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#but it's good to know that you can tell the difference by looking and seeing if the firebender is making movement with their legs
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hello! I was scrolling through your blog (delightful) and found the post about Beef and his whiskers position, and I'm ashamed to say that in all my near-thirty years of being around cats and thinking I understand them pretty well I never thought to pay attention to the 'circle shape'. could you please expound a bit on what to look for when it comes to whiskers position and how to interpret it? Beef is an absolute sweetheart but looking at a brachy cat as an example makes it a bit hard for me to generalize. thank you!
Thank you! And also thank you for your patience--- I wanted to give some really good examples and have been scouring my blog for the best circle whisker cats I could find.
Picture heavy post under this.
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so this is the cat grimace scale. It's a sort of way to visually see if a cat is in pain/distress, and it gives a simplified view of the things I'm going to discuss. It's important to recognize that whisker shape/position is just ONE piece of communication and doesn't tell the whole story. A lot of this is also based on CONTEXT as well.
When you're looking at a cat face, here are the things you really want to pay attention to:
Ear position—Ears facing forward, ears slightly pulled apart, or ears flattened and rotated outward.
Orbital tightening—Eyes opened, eyes partially opened, or eyes squinted.
Muzzle tension—Muzzle relaxed (round), muzzle mildly tense, or muzzle tense (elliptical).
Whisker position—Whiskers loose and curved, whiskers slightly curved or straight, or whiskers straight and moving forward.
Head position—Head above the shoulder line, head aligned with the shoulder line, or head below the shoulder line or tilted.
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Calypso's huge whiskers give a REALLY good visual on the 'circle shape' to look for. You can see her whiskers are pushed forward and are loose and curved. She's feeling playful and engaged! She really wants to know what I'm up to and what's in my hand (spoiler alert, it was treats)
Compare that to this later picture, taken after she heard a dog bark nearby:
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Her muzzle is tighter. Her whiskers are pulled back a bit, and are straight. Her ears are set differently as well, one pulled back a bit. She's concerned, but not terribly worried about this strange sound.
You can also compare it to this handsome lad:
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Again, his whiskers are fairly straight. They aren't pulled back as far, but he's still very tense. He was extremely tense and upset that I took his water dish away from him (because it needed to be cleaned and changed).
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Milo is another great example of excited whiskers. They're pushed forward and curved, forming a sort of circle. Like Calypso, he's interested in what I'm doing and feeling playful. He was very interested in the toy I was throwing for him.
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Gumdrop is a good example of a more relaxed whisker position. She's curious, but not feeling playful. Her whiskers are held very loosely rather than being pushed forward. Her tail nub is up, indicating friendliness and confidence.
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"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1
Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.
There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!
Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!
Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.
None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!
Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!
If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.
I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!
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My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!
POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!
Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.
That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.
It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.
But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.
My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.
People were HORRIFIC about Louis.
It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.
My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.
POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?
While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.
For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.
But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)
I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.
POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!
As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!
I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!
POINT#5: You are NOT Black!
This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!
For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?
An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!
I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.
Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.
My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.
Conclusion
We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!
And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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hairmetal666 · 1 day
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Everyone in the league knows about Eddie Munson. He has the makings of a great pitcher, except for the fact that his slider has a 75% chance of sliding too high and his fastballs mostly end up in the dirt. His technique is wild, flailing, unrestrained. Which is why Steve is beside himself when he learns about the trade.
The owners, they think that Steve being the best catcher in the league means he can work with Eddie, settle him, make him a real prospect. Steve's input isn't needed with the decision already made, but Munson--with all his tattoos piercings and leather--looks like he'd rather hock a loogie at Steve than take directions from him.
And Steve is the best in the league, the glue that keeps the team together. They're a well-oiled machine, and Eddie is--Eddie is a squeaky wheel.
They meet for the first time, briefly, in the locker room. He's seen the guy before, of course, but now, like this, he can't help but be intrigued by his pale skin and long curls and brown doe-eyes, his lightly muscled frame. And they're in the locker room, Eddie with just a towel around his waist, exposing his toned chest and stomach and the black swirl of his tattoos.
"Steve Harrington!" Eddie reaches out a hand. "Great to meet you, man."
"You too. Excited to have you with us." The handshake is quick and firm and Steve is trying not to be surprised about how excited and genuine the guy sounds, keep his mind away from thinking of how Eddie is naked aside from the towel.
With only a few weeks until the start of the regular season, Eddie starts pitching to Steve. And Steve, he so expects Eddie to fight and grumble and refuse, that his head sort of spins when, on the first day, Eddie claps him on the back with his glove, says, "where do you want me, cap?" and that's that.
He wants to say that they dislike each other, that they're a bad fit, that Eddie is full himself and refuses constructive criticism.
Instead.
Instead it's easy.
Eddie doesn't complain, doesn't argue, just watches Steve, learns him, takes his advice and notes and implements them as much as he can. They like each other, have an easy rapport, get each other. He's tight with all the pitchers, but Eddie is different. They settle each other.
They're best friends. They hangout constantly. And he doesn't have a crush; he doesn't. It would be unprofessional. They're best friends.
But sometimes, sometimes he thinks he catches Eddie looking at him. It's impossible. Of course it's impossible. Eddie couldn't be into the guy Sports Illustrated called "baseball's Ralph Lauren model" in the intro to Steve's Body Issue photo spread. And it doesn't matter one way or the other because Steve won't make a move. He won't jeopardize the team like that.
They don't touch. He touches everyone on the team, often, and Eddie particularly is a physical guy, but aside from that first handshake, he keeps his distance. Steve's afraid--even though it's silly, he's afraid--that once they start touching, he won't be able to stop, and he can't let that happen.
The team is good, competing for first place in the National League. Eddie's success has made everyone else better.
It's late July, they're in first place in the league, and Eddie's pitching a perfect game. There's only been 24 perfect games thrown in the history of Major League Baseball, but it's the eighth inning and Eddie's doing it.
A pitch goes wild, veers high over the umpire's head. Eddie's shaken, Steve can tell with how his fist tightens compulsively around the ball. The next pitch swings wide, towards the batter's knees.
The count is at 2 balls, no strikes, and he can see, even from behind home plate Steve can see, that Eddie's losing it. He heads for the mound, refuses to let it end like this. He closes the distance between them, has a quick internal debate before he puts his hand on Eddie's lower back. They've never touched, this is it, this is--warmth bleeds from Eddie's skin, through the fabric of his jersey, goes straight to Steve's head.
Eddie frowns. "I don't think I--"
"You're going to do it, Ed. I know. I can feel it." He pats his chest, over his heart. "It's gonna happen."
Eddie's breathing settles and it's only then that Steve realizes he's rubbing circles into Eddie's back with his thumb. He's not sure when he started, doesn't want to stop, loves being able to feel.
"Okay," Eddie says.
"Okay."
Steve removes his hand, heads back to home, still tingling with the warmth of Eddie's body even as he crouches behind the plate.
He closes out the inning with three definitive strike outs. The crowd goes wild.
They take the field for the top of the 9th, the crowd is screaming, ready for this, the energy zipping through every player on the field.
It goes by in a blur. Nine pitches. Eddie's perfect game is wrapped up in nine phenomenal pitches.
As the ump calls the last out, there's a moment of complete and utter quiet in the stadium, Steve's heart a pounding hum in his ears, before pandemonium breaks loose. There's screaming, fireworks, someone is crying--
All he can see is Eddie. Eddie's who's thrown his glove to the dirt, is barreling towards him with a triumphant smile bright on his face. Steve stands, runs to close the distance. He sees the moment that Eddie decides to jump into his arms, catches him easily--will always catch him--but his legs are tired and the momentum gets him, sends them tumbling back into the grass.
They're both yelling, laughing, smiling hard enough to hurt. Eddie's hair has fallen out if its tie, tumbling around his shoulders, and Steve gazes at him, can't help it, in this moment can admit that he's so, so astronomically in love.
It's only then Steve realizes that the laughter's stopped, that Eddie's gazing back. Brown eyes shining bright with happiness, cheeks flushed pink, lips parted. Thoughtless, he reaches up to caress Eddie's cheek.
The team reaches them, streaming around them, yanking Eddie and Steve to their feet. The celebration stretches around them, the moment slipping away. He wants to finish what they started but there are interviews, champagne showers, congratulations, that keep them apart. Sometimes, from across the room, their eyes meet, and there's heat there that's new, that sparks something low in Steve's gut.
Hours pass, and finally he finds himself alone in the locker room. He's just pulled on his t-shirt when the door shuts behind him. He spins, finds Eddie, waiting, watching.
He crosses the room without a word, can't not, not now, not after everything. They grapple for a second, the wanting so strong that it takes a second to settle, to find each other. They kiss hard, desperate, seething with desire.
Steve hopes it never ends and it doesn't, just tapers into soft kisses, gentle nips. He can't bring himself to step away.
"Is this for real ?" Eddie whispers.
"I've been insane about you since the trade."
Eddie's smile is blinding. "I used to have those pictures of you--the ones with the little red shorts?--in my locker in the minors. Feel like I'm living in a dream right now."
It lights him up inside, knowing that Eddie wants him, has wanted him. "Let me take you home and show you just how real it is?"
He snorts, but his dimples deepen, eyes shining. "What a line, sweetheart."
"Yeah well, the baseball field isn't the only place where I hit home runs."
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bucks-babe · 2 days
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Change My Ways For You
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Pairing: College!Fuckboy!Bucky x college!fem!reader
Summary: One of the only girls in school that didn’t want Bucky Barnes was somehow the one he fell in love with
Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader doesn’t take any of Bucky’s shit, himbo!Bucky, Bucky being a fuckboy,a bit of forced proximity, small part where Bucky is fucking someone else (ew), pinning, Bucky proving himself to be a sweet boy, non consentual kissing, Bucky being tooth rottingly sweet, Bucky calling reader sweets sweetheart and sweetcheeks, Steve is a dick (sorry not sorry), PROTECTED p in v (they are responsible in this one), fingering, fluffy smut, dirty talk, cockwarming?, so much praise, talk about STDs, delayed aftercare, talk about no aftercare, Bucky learns about aftercare so all is good
Word Count: 14.6k This is a long one
A/N: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading and helping with the direction; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. This fic is the most adorable and full of emotions. The angst, the fluff, the feelings and especially Bucky. The way they act around one another — it’s absolutely great and definitely a read worth it!
“I have to admit, some of your grades in this class are less than I expected. Some of you have excelled in my class, but there are quite a few students to which their performance, to put it nicely, has been subpar.” A few students in the room look around, trying to see who looks guilty of having shit grades. You couldn’t care less; you know your grades are great so it’s not your problem if someone else is failing. 
All you want to do is get out of class and go back to your dorm to sleep, having stayed up way too late to finish a research paper for a different class. Your professor walks back over to his desk and leans back on it, sighing and taking off his glasses to wipe them on his sweater. 
“Now, while I understand that this course is not for the faint of heart, I still expect all of you to put in effort, and based on these,” he holds up the essays that were due last week, “I can tell that some of you just don’t care. Not even mentioning those of you who didn’t turn in your paper.”
You hear a scoff a few rows behind you and you know it’s Bucky Barnes without having to turn your head. He is the resident fuckboy, not caring about school or his education, just going to parties and fucking every living thing in sight. Sometimes you think that the only reason he is even in college is to have the “college experience” of “being free and having a bit of fun.” 
He’s never turned your head, rather just been a thorn in your side three times a week when you go to class, always joking with his friends next to him or talking about his latest trist. You don’t want to hear about how loud a random girl screamed when she came on his cock. You were here to get your degree and finally move out of this shitty town you were stuck in.
Honestly, you doubt that Bucky was even giving anyone orgasms. In your experience, men who brag about how good they were in bed were nothing but a disappointment, giving you about 30 seconds of mediocre sex until they came inside a condom and rolled over only to ask you, “did you cum?” The answer was always no. You didn’t have the patience to stroke any man’s ego when they couldn’t even make you wet. 
Bucky did nothing but make you roll your eyes, annoyed by the absolute gall of himself. “Now, because I don’t want my class average to go down because of a few dumbasses, I have sent some of you an email to meet me in my office after hours in which I will pair you up with another student in hopes that it will give you a kick in the ass since I cannot be bothered to spend more time teaching you.” You like your professor, you really do. He was one of the chillest professors you’ve had, but a twinge of fear goes through you. You fucking hope that he doesn’t pick you to help another student, especially Bucky.
You hang on to the sliver of hope that he won’t pick you. He knows that you’re busy, right? Between work and school you don’t have any time to tutor anyone. The topic stays on your mind long after you leave class, delaying looking at your email just in case he picked you to help another student. 
As the hours went by, however, you knew that you had to check it. You cursed when your laptop had battery; if it didn’t, it would have given you an excuse to not show up if you were picked. Nonetheless, you opened your school email, only to find out that you had been picked and you needed to go down to your professors office in a half hour.
Getting dressed, you had the most intense scowl on your face. This was the last thing you needed added onto your plate. You only hoped that he would pair you up with someone who didn’t need that much help, but you were proven wrong when you walked in only to find Bucky sitting down looking like he would rather be anywhere else.
“Take a seat, please.” You huff and sit down, moving your body away from Bucky as much as you could. You didn’t really feel comfortable around him. He’s never done anything to you per say, but you’ve seen his shameless flirting and it makes you uneasy and never want to be on the receiving end of it.
You don’t pay attention to anything your professor says, something about helping Bucky over the next few months until he’s passing or fails out of the course. You’re too lost in thought to care. On top of everything you have going on, now you have to help the one person you can’t stand.
Your professor dismisses the both of you with instructions to meet at least twice a week to study together. Bucky walks out before you and you assume that he has sprinted away to go to another party given that it was late afternoon, but you find him right outside the door. 
“So, sweetcheeks, I guess you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me now.” His eyes run up and down your body, like this was the first time he’s seen you. It makes you shift and wrap your arms around your middle, trying to soothe yourself. Bucky clearly takes this the wrong way and thinks that you like his hungry eyes and steps closer to you. “How about I give you my number and we can meet up, ya know, to study? Or if you ever need something, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
You don’t want to give him your phone, thinking about where his hands have been. Ever since his step closer to you, you can smell the scent of sex on him. If you look closer at his beard you can see the glisten on it, most likely from some girl he ate out right before he came to the meeting. 
“Just tell me your number, James so we can get this over with. I don’t want to help you and you don’t want my help. Clearly you don’t give a shit about this class and you only want to get in my pants.” He raises his eyebrows at your tone, a little shocked that you spoke to him like that. Before he opens his mouth you continue, “I mean, look at you. You’re flirting with me when I can fucking see that someone’s pussy was on your face, and that makes you think that I want to have sex with you?”
He opens his mouth one more time but you aren’t finished, finally able to snap at him for all the times he’s pissed you off. “I’m not going to be one of the girls you add to your roster so you can get that idea out of your head right now. The only time I am going to interact with you is when I have to, okay? Now give me your number so I can go back to my dorm and fucking sleep.”
Bucky is shocked, not having anyone talk to him like that. It pisses him off that you rejected him. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but he has time to change your mind. He can’t lie, your sass was making his pants tighter, but he relents and gives you his number before you walk away while he watches your ass, palming his dick through his pants. 
He needs to relieve the pressure in his groin and he’s sure as hell you’re not going to help him and his hand is nowhere near good as a pussy, so he goes out to Steve’s party, knowing that he can get a girl in minutes.
“Fuck, yeah baby, that pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock. Shit, love that ass too, you gonna let me fuck it? Yeah, I bet you fucking would too.” Bucky doesn’t know how the two of them ended up in the bathroom, fucking each other’s brains out, but he’s not complaining. When she offered to get on her knees and suck his cock he pulled her into the nearest room, cumming on her face before pushing her into the mirror, smearing her makeup and his cum all over the mirror.
The slam of his hips was brutal, surely going to leave bruises on her hips but he didn’t care, as long as she wasn’t complaining, he would do whatever he wanted with her, fucking her like she was a slut. “Fuck, baby, gonna make me fucking cum. Pussy is so fucking tight.” He lets a groan out, close to cumming. 
 Usually he didn’t make much noise during sex other than dirty talk, only breathing heavily and groaning when he was about to cum, but he was always composed. Sex felt great, but he never felt the need to moan. He never understood why men would moan like a slut just over some pussy, and he doubted that he would ever embarrass himself like that during sex.
“Love the way that ass bounces, so fucking hot.” This was the way Bucky fucked - from behind watching the girl’s ass jiggle. He wasn’t one to fuck any other way. Bucky didn’t give a shit to watch her face or look into her eyes, he just wanted to cum as fast as possible so he could move on with the rest of his day. He thought missionary was quite possibly the most boring position ever created, not like he ever made it to a bed anyway.
“Shit, gonna take my cum, bitch? Yeah, you fucking are, just a little fucking cumdump for me, letting me fuck you in a dirty bathroom, too horny for my fat cock.” He was babbling, just wanting to cum so he could go back out to the party and have another drink, maybe even pick another girl up for later.
Bucky lets out a low groan, filling up the condom with his cum. Once his orgasm is finished, he pulls out, taking the rubber off and throwing it away. Pulling his pants back up, the girl turns around, clearly affronted. “I didn’t even cum, baby.” Her voice was high and annoying, making Bucky roll his eyes. 
“Sorry, but your pussy made me bust early.” He chuckles knowing damn well that it was a lie. He just couldn’t be bothered to make her cum. Why would he put in the extra work to make her cum when he was just having fun? If she wanted to cum so bad she could have handled it herself. He wasn’t stopping her from using her own hands. Bucky either ate a girl out until she came to get her nice and wet if he was feeling generous that day or left her to her own devices while he took his own pleasure from her body.
She blushes, “oh, thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Bucky just wants to get the fuck back to the party and she’s talking too fucking much. “Maybe we can do this again.”
He can hear how hopeful she is and he felt just a little bit bad so he decided to humor her. “Sure, Sherry, whenever I’m free. You know college life and all, working hard in classes every day. Gotta keep up that 4.0 GPA.” As he heads for the door, he hears her squeak out, It’s Sally!
The next day is when you’re supposed to meet Bucky in the library to study, but it’s been a half hour and he still hasn’t shown. You decide to study what you need to. If Bucky wanted to fail you weren’t going to go out of your way to help him. You weren’t his mother; he was a grown man and he was responsible for himself. 
Nearly an hour later, Bucky stumbles in, clearly reaping the effects of the alcohol binge he must have been on the night before. It was no wonder  why he was failing his classes. When he sees you, a smile graces his lips, trying to make you forget that he was more than fashionably late. “Heeyyyy, sweetcheeks. You been waitin’ on me long?” The closer he gets the more you can smell the musk of sex and alcohol.
“James, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” You know he is and you fight the urge to turn your nose up at the offensive smell coming off him.
“Huh? Oh, shit, I am. Well would ya’ look at that?” He laughs before plopping down in the seat next to you, his smell even worse than before. He tries to give you what you assume is a sexy look, but he just looks like he just awoke out of a coma. “How about you help me change them then, sweetcheeks? Maybe even give me a good scrub, make sure I’m real clean? Oh, and sweets, call me Bucky since we’re gonna get real close.”
There is no way that he is trying to have sex with you when his stink is filling up the entire section of the library. Anger bubbles up in your chest. You were here to help him and he is taking this whole thing like a joke. “I don’t have time for this, James. Unlike you, I actually care about my grades and don’t think with what’s in my pants.”
As you go to walk away, Bucky tries to grab your wrist, wanting to mess with you some more, but his motor skills haven’t come back yet and he was too slow. “C’mon, sweetheart, I was just messin’ with ya’, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Bucky holds his tongue about wanting to sniff your panties, not wanting to antagonize you further, but you just keep storming away and soon enough you’re out of Bucky’s sight.
Bucky huffs, annoyed that you walked away from him. Not because he actually wanted to talk to you, no of course not, it’s because no one has ever walked away from him. He walks away from girls after he fucked them, not the other way around. Grabbing his shirt, he lifts it up to smell it, turning his head away when the stench hits him. “Damn, no wonder she fucking sprinted away from you, Barnes.” Bucky stands up, almost falling over when gets lightheaded, the effect of drinking all night with no food catching up to him.
He slowly makes his way back to his dorm to shower and get out of his grimy clothes, feeling it stick to his skin in the worst way possible. He realizes that he only gave you his number and you didn’t give him yours so he has no way of texting you to see when your next session is. Maybe he would have made it on time if you texted him. It wasn’t his fault he was late. Honestly, you should have reminded him since you are supposed to be helping him.
The next day Bucky sees you in class and luckily he doesn’t reek this time. Instead of sitting in his usual seat, he goes down a few rows and plops down next to you. “So, sweetheart, I don’t mean to question your teaching methods, but seems to me like you’re a pretty lackluster teacher, runnin’ out on me like that.” You slowly turn your head, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man. How dare he say anything about you when he showed an hour  late and proceeded to ogle you like a piece of meat?
“Excuse me? You wanna say that again, James? Because I don’t think I heard you right, because you better not have just said that I’m the problem.”
“I was just teasin’ ya, sweets. But if this is gonna work ya gotta help me a little bit. I mean, you’re the teacher and all.” You wanted to slap that smug smirk right off of his face.
“If this is going to work, James, then you need to try. I’m not going to pull my weight and yours so get that idea out of your head right now. I’ll be in the library at 4:30. If you’re so much as a minute late, I’ll tell the professor to get someone else to deal with you.” With that you got up and changed your seat, not wanting to be around him for another second. 
Bucky felt his pants tighten again. He really needs to do something about your attitude, like fuck it out of you. It wasn’t a lie that he found you attractive and the thought of bending you over your desk and watching your ass bounce made his cock even harder. Bucky was contemplating asking the girl next to him for a handjob but the thought of her hands around his cock didn’t seem as good as what he thought your hands would feel like.
So instead of that, Bucky moved his seat to the back of the room so he could jerk off. A man has needs after all and Bucky has never had to worry about someone taking care of his boners until now.
Bucky decides not to push his luck and he actually shows up to the library on time, sans all of his books, but at least he’s there. He sees you in the corner, hunched over your laptop, typing away. You look cute too, with your tongue slightly passed your lips in concentration and eyebrows pulled together. Reading glasses perched on your nose. His sweetheart was working hard. What the fuck, Barnes? Bucky is taken aback by his own thoughts. He has never looked at a girl like that, when none of his thoughts are about how many different ways he could fuck them.
You roll your eyes when you see that Bucky didn’t bring anything with him, just the air of arrogance that seems to follow him wherever he goes. “Would ya’ look at the time, sweets? I’m early. See I happen to take my education very seriously.” You swear, if you roll your eyes anymore because of this man, they’re going to be stuck in the back of your skull. 
“Yeah, yeah. What did the professor say you needed to work on?” You want to get straight to business. The faster you get this done the faster you can leave.
“Uh, well. I don’t exactly know what.” He tries to smile to soften the blow of his incompetence as he sits next to you, but you are almost vibrating in anger at how useless he is.
Huffing, you angrily click at your laptop, going to check the email your professor gave you, knowing that Bucky couldn’t be trusted to remember. “James, please tell me how your grade is a 13% and you’re still in college?” You had no idea that someone could have a grade that low and not be kicked out of the entire course.
“What! No way, let me see that.” You slide the laptop over to him, showing the proof of his negligence. “Well, damn, we have a lotta work to do then, sweetcheeks.” You ignore his comment and pull up his most recent essay, surprised that he turned it in at all, but not shocked to see how terribly he did.
“James, what did you even think this essay was about?”
“Uh, nature and care?” Your mouth drops open and you just stare at him for a minute, making him squirm under your gaze.
“James, this was an essay on Frankenstein, and you were supposed to analyze the difference between nature versus nurture. You wrote about the fucking trees!”
Bucky clearly didn’t understand the problem with his essay. “Yeah, that’s nature!”
“No, James. Nature as in how you are, like how you were born, not how you were raised. You were supposed to compare how Victor was nurtured all his life but was full of hate and spite, but the creature never had any care but he was benevolent until everyone who encountered him abhorred him!”
You were talking too fast and Bucky didn’t understand a word of what you said. You were using words that he had never heard of before. “So, you can fix it, right, sweets?” That same sly smile was on his lips. The look on your face was enough to make him backtrack. “Uh, so we can fix this right? You know, since we’re a team now.”
The resting bitch face you gave him had him shifting his eyes around the library, trying to avoid it. As soon as he did, however, he regretted his decision when his party hook up locked eyes with him. His eyes immediately went to your laptop, typing random words onto the document you pulled up, trying to seem busy.
“So, sweetcheeks, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. So Victor is a bitch and Frankenstein is cool.” The sound of your voice correcting him by calling the creature Frankenstein is drowned out by the shrill voice of his past trist.
“Hey, baby, haven’t seen you since that party. See you're working hard, keeping up that 4.0 I see.” She lets out a giggle and strokes his bicep. You raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything about his supposed GPA. You’re taking great pleasure in watching Bucky squirm, clearly not wanting anything to do with her now that he’s gotten his rocks off. 
“And who is this? I bet my smart baby is helping her study, right? That’s so sweet of you to help out, really. Not everyone would want to help the ugly girl.” You wheeled your head back, about to bite her head off for daring to say shit about your looks when the foundation on her face was three shades lighter than her chest that was almost spilling out of her way too small top. Now you were never one to judge, but if someone comes for your looks, you come right back at them.
Before you got the chance to tear her a new one, Bucky interjected. “Ya’ know me, always helping out where I can, even those less fortunate than me.” His eyes were glued to her chest and you doubted that he even knew what she said to begin with. “Listen, Sandy, how about we catch up after I’m done and I can help you out too?”
The “sexy” look on her face dropped. “My name’s Sally, nevermind, you can have the ugly bitch!” Bucky cringes slightly at getting her name wrong again; he was never good with those. You don’t know why you were involved with their lovers quarrel, but a twinge of hurt sprouts in your heart. You didn’t even do anything to her and she had to come at you for your looks, and Bucky didn’t say a fucking word.
Grabbing your things, you pack them with more force than necessary, but you don’t give a fuck. “Sweetheart, where are ya’ going? Don’t listen to her, she’s just a bit jealous that I’m with ya’.”
How does he not see what he did wrong? You just glare at him before turning on your heels and walking away. There is no way that you’re going to spend anymore time or energy on him when he isn’t going to try. If it was anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t be so hurt, but for just one second you thought that Bucky wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be.
“Sweets, c’mon, we still have that essay to write.” Was this man really following you down the hall? Yes, yes he was. 
You spin around, eyes ablaze just to walk back up to him and push his chest. “You have an essay to write because I. Am. Done. You don’t give a fuck about this and I refuse to put myself through this for nothing.”
“What did I even do?” Now you were shaking with anger.
“What did you do? You haven’t tried at all, showing up late, trying to get me to fuck you, and worst of all, you let someone talk about me like that right in front of you and didn’t say a fucking word. You know, for a second there I thought you might be a nice guy, but you proved me the fuck wrong.”
Bucky had the nerve to look angry at what you said. Pushing you against the wall, he stares into your eyes. “Sweets, you’re really starting to piss me off. I’m fucking trying and it’s not good enough for ya’. I ought to fuck that attitude right outta ya’.” His eyes drop down to your lips and you’re too stunned to speak, not expecting him to push you up against a wall. 
He was starting to scare you, getting into your space like this, but before you could tell him to back off his lips smashed against yours. It was rough and fast. Your lips stayed still but your eyes were wide open, shocked at what he was doing. You tried to push his chest, but he only got closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand dropping to your ass.
You struggled to free one of your hands, but as soon as you did you slapped Bucky in the face as hard as you could given your angle. He pulls back, shock on his face at the fact that you hit him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing! What made you think that I wanted to kiss you, asshole!” You try to wipe your lips, wanting to get the memory of his lips against yours off.
Bucky just stood there, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know what came over him. You shook your head and practically ran away to your dorm so you could shower and wash his touch off of you. The next day you were glad you didn’t have class with Bucky, but the remains of his kiss were still lingering. You didn’t even want to help him to begin with and this is how it ends up? With him forcing you to kiss him.
You didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, just wanting to forget the whole thing. But you couldn’t avoid Bucky for long since you did have to share a class together. He tried to come up to you, but you saw it out of the corner of your eye and switched seats before he could reach you. The entire hour and a half lecture was spent making sure Bucky wasn’t making his way any closer to you.
Instead of rushing out when class was over, you made your way down to your professors desk. “Professor, could I talk to you in your office for a minute? It’s important.” He might be relaxed most of the time, but your professor always made sure everyone in his class felt like they could talk to him if needed. 
Nodding his head, he leads you to his office and closes the door behind you, but not before you catch a glimpse of Bucky looking like a kicked puppy. He knew what you were about to talk about in that office, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Have a seat and tell me what’s going on. You’ve seemed off the past couple of lessons and I’m starting to get worried.”
You gulped, not knowing why it was so hard to say that you don’t want to tutor Bucky anymore. You didn’t want to let your professor down. Maybe it was because he reminded you of a father that you never had, but you just wanted to make him proud, showing him that you were capable of what he entrusted to you. He was looking at you, waiting to listen.
“Um, well, I have been distracted, but I think that it would be best for James to-” You can’t finish the rest of your sentence when you look at your professor. He trusted you to help Bucky and you can’t throw his trust away. “I think it would be best for James to have a more structured plan and I wanted to discuss that with you.”
The pride in his eyes was undeniable and you forgot about all the shit Bucky has put you through over the last few days. “Of course, what did you have in mind?” When you get out of his office, Bucky is still waiting, most likely missing the next party one of his friends is having.
You don’t even look at him, only grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him with you all the way down to the library. “Sweets, listen, I didn’t mean to make ya’ feel-” Turning around, you cut him off and he stumbles to a stop.
“No, I don’t want to hear it, James. You listen to me. We will meet in this library every other day at this exact time and you will keep your mouth shut and work. Do you hear me?” Bucky feels his pants tighten, but doesn’t say a word about it, slightly scared to talk back to you. 
He just nods his head, finally noticing how beautiful you were. How your eyes held so much emotion in them, even when you didn't let it show on your face. Or how your lips form a small frown, the sides pulling down giving you an adorable pout. The small belmishes on your face, the tiny imperfections, created the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
“A nod is not an answer, James. Use your words.” Bucky swears that he could have cum in his pants at that exact moment. No woman has ever been so dominant with him in or out of the bedroom. 
He gulps before finding his voice again, hoarse but still working. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let ya’ down again. I swear.” You stare into his eyes for a few seconds longer, determining if you believed him or not, giving Bucky more time to appreciate every part of your face he didn’t notice before.
You let go of his shirt and keep walking and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, eyes downcast to your ass but not being able to see much with your hoodie going down past it. Instead of going to the corner of the library you were at last time, you walk to one of the private study rooms. “Sit and get your shit out.”
Bucky wastes no time following your direction, loving how brazen you were. You sit down next to him, giving him the opportunity to smell your perfume, the light scent intoxicating. “So, teach, what are we working on first?” His eyes are bright and attentive, taking in your facial expressions. He’s trying to butter you up, make you less angry at him.
“We have to fix your atrocious essay. It’s worth the most amount of points so hopefully it will bring your grade up.” You root through his binder, nothing organized at all. When you find it and pull it out you sigh, not knowing where to even start. “Okay, first things first, you need to at least understand what this is about.”
You explain everything to him, stopping to see if he is still following along, surprised to see him paying attention, going so far as to interrupt every so often to ask questions. For the first time since he got to college, Bucky is trying. The two of you sit there for a few hours, going over the essay line by line, fixing his mistakes. To your surprise, his grammar wasn’t too bad. At least he had something going for him.
The next few lessons go by the same way, Bucky working hard to not piss you off, but also to improve his grades. There were no flirty comments, no complaining about you being bossy. He was falling for you, something that Bucky never thought would happen to him.
He didn’t know how it started. Maybe it was that day you told him off, grabbing his shirt and putting him in his place. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. You were so beautiful and smart. God you were smart. It amazed him how easy it was for you to explain the assignments to him. 
Bucky stopped going to parties, too. For once he didn’t find interest in getting shitfaced drunk and sticking his dick in a random girl; although it was giving him his first ever case of blue balls, it just felt wrong to have sex with another girl. He tried once at the last party he went to before he decided to stop going, but her hand on his cock didn’t make him pulse with need. Bucky ended up faking a phone call, saying that his friend was in the hospital and he needed to go see him.
As the weeks pass, Bucky can tell you’re getting soft on him, especially when you called him Bucky for the first time.
 “C’mon, sweets, it can’t be that bad helpin’ me out.” Bucky leans back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered on his face. 
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, James because from where I stand, I’m losing IQ points by the minute with you.” You still try to sass him but Bucky can tell you’re fighting off a smile. The two of you talk like actual friends now - no more jabs at his promiscuity and no more ogling.
“Ah, I think it’s the other way around. I can feel myself gettin’ smarter with ya’.” Bucky puts his head on the table in front of you, moving so he could look at your face. His eyes glisten, showing the sweet man hidden underneath his tough exterior.
“Oh, give me a break, Bucky, you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll do all the work for you.” You smile, looking down at him with the same adoration he’s giving you. His name leaving your lips felt right, smooth and sweet.
Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting his name to sound so damn good coming from you. He doesn’t say anything in fear of you going back to calling him James. Now that you’ve called him Bucky, he never wants to hear his first name come out of your mouth again. He wants to be your Bucky.
You can’t deny the feelings you’ve developed for Bucky. The man charming his way into your heart, but you know you can’t act on them. You doubt that Bucky has ever been in a serious relationship, only going for one night stands. Even though you’ve seen first hand how sweet of a man he can be, you still aren’t convinced that he would be interested in dating.
But Bucky doesn’t share the same sentiment. Today is the day he’s going to ask you on a date, hoping that you’ll say yes and give him a chance to prove himself to you, prove that he can be the man you deserve. Like always, you’re in the library before him, already set up and waiting. When you see him walking over you wave, the same gorgeous smile he fell for gracing your lips. 
You could tell that he was nervous, stuttering and not meeting your eyes. “Bucky, what’s going on with you? Don’t tell me that you forgot to turn in the essay that we’ve been working on.”
Bucky smiles sheepishly at you. “No, sweets, I remembered to turn it in. I, uh, well, ya’ know. I got a question for ya’.” Mentally slapping himself in the face, Bucky blushed.
Staring at him suspiciously, you pushed your laptop away, giving him your full attention. “Well, sweets, you’ve been so good to me over these past few weeks. Really turned me around. I didn’t think that I would be able to do all this college shit, you know?” It wasn’t a question that he wanted you to answer. “You made me change my ways. I don’t want to go to parties and get blackout drunk anymore. To be honest, I’d much rather spend my time with you.”
Bucky takes a deep breath while you gaze at him with a blank expression on your face, making him even more nervous than before. “Doesn’t matter what we’re doing, s’long as it’s with you I don’t care.”
You cut off his rambling, afraid of where he is going. “Bucky, what are you trying to say to me?” You know what he is trying to say, but you don’t know how to react to it. It’s not like you haven’t imagined what it would be like to go out with him, but that’s just not the man he is.
“I’m tryin’ to be romantic right now, sweets.” He lets out a little giggle, playing with his hands to try to calm himself down. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky feels his heart drop when you only stare at him, not even blinking. His knee starts to bounce, the anticipation becoming too much for him.
You sigh, thinking about what to say to him. The two of you have a good friendship, one that you never thought you would have, but starting a relationship with him is terrifying. “Bucky, listen.” Just from the way you started your sentence, Bucky regrets saying anything. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I really do, but I can’t deny that your past scares me.”
“What do you mean, sweets?” For a man so observant, he can be a little dumb.
“You don’t do relationships, Bucky. You’re used to no strings attached and dating includes a lot of strings.” Bucky clenches his jaw, of course his past would come back to bite him in the ass.
“I don’t want no strings attached anymore. I want to be with you and only you.” You close your eyes, putting your head down slightly. You want to believe him, you really do, but you don’t want to get your heart broken. Gently, Bucky’s hand grabs your chin, moving you to face him. “Let me prove myself to you, sweets, just give me a chance and if I blow it I give you full permission to kick my ass.”
That brings a small smile to your lips, but you’re still not convinced. “What if you get bored of me? Being with the same person over and over again?” Bucky’s heart aches at your words, not used to seeing you unsure of yourself. How could he ever get tired of you? He knows that he is the one who caused your insecurities. If he didn’t sleep around as much as he did, then you wouldn’t worry about his loyalty.
“Sweetheart, ever since you put me in my place, I haven’t touched another woman, can’t even think about someone who isn’t you touchin’ me. Just one chance is all I’m askin’ and I promise that I will show you how much I care.”
Closing your eyes, you lean into his warm palm, letting yourself feel him. His eyes hold so much vulnerability and you feel yourself losing the ability to say no to him. “Just one chance, Barnes. And if you hurt me I swear to God.” You’ve never seen Bucky smile so wide, pure joy adorning his face. 
The smile never left his face, only growing wider. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweets. What about you come over to my dorm and we can have a movie night? Maybe you could even stay over?” He looks sheepish, worried you’ll turn him down. At the quirk of your brow he rushes to explain himself. “Not like that! Just to hang out.”
You head back to your dorm to get a change of clothes while Bucky waits outside so he could walk with you back to his. As soon as you walk out, he is rushing to grab your bag from you, insisting that he carries it. “Bucky, I can carry my own bag, you know. I’m capable of that much.” He loves your little attitude, never accepting his help.
Throwing an arm over your shoulder, Bucky leads you away, not giving you your bag back. His dorm is just what you expect from a college frat boy: trash can overflowing, clothes on the floor, food left out, bed a complete mess. Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky shyly looks at you. You decide to only give him a little bit of grief for the mess. “Am I allowed on the bed or have you fucked someone here?”
Bucky’s eyes widen, frantically shaking his head. “No, never brought anyone back to my dorm.” Toeing your shoes off, you ask him where the bathroom is, changing your clothes before you flop onto the bed, letting yourself sink into the fluffy mattress. For a minute, Bucky feels his brain malfunction. The sight of you in his bed is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He would give his left arm to have you naked right now, his cock buried deep inside you, your pussy pulsing around his cock, moaning when he rubs little circles on your clit.
“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna put on a movie, loverboy?” Shaking his head, Bucky nods and heads over to grab his laptop before climbing into bed, leaving space in between the two of you in case you didn’t want to be too close. “I didn’t know that hanging off the side of the bed was your style, but if you want to leave me to freeze feel free to do so.”
Bucky doesn’t know how to act around you, this whole dating thing is uncharted territory for him. He just moves over, your thigh pressed to his. Bucky had to will his cock to not get hard, the softness of your body was making it hard to think straight. The fact that he’s only jerked off for the past month isn’t helping either.
You move to get more comfortable, which so happens to include you snuggling into his side, curling your arms around his bicep. Bucky has no clue what the movie is about, the image of all the things he wants to do to you in this bed are too much for him. He doesn’t know what the feeling passing over him is. He likes this. He likes the feeling of your body pressed to his. Not in a sexual way, although he wouldn’t mind that either, but in a completely innocent way. Bucky never stayed around after he came, always getting dressed and leaving. He’s never had a woman press their body against his just to find comfort.
Somehow, Bucky is following along with the plot of the movie, but he knows that it was just because of how you interacted with all the characters like they could hear you. Bucky would usually hate that, he hates when people talk through movies, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. If anything, he was glad that you kept talking, giving him the opportunity to hear your voice.
Halfway through the movie you stop talking. When Bucky looks down he sees that you fell asleep on his chest. Of course at that moment Bucky’s bladder decided that he needed to pee urgently. He tried to hold off for as long as he could, focusing on the part of your mouth and the bit of drool leaking from it. But try as he might, he needed to use the bathroom. 
He tried to maneuver you to not disturb your sleep but you woke up as soon as he moved. “Where you going?” Shit, he’s going to have to pee with a boner because your sleepy voice sent blood right to his cock. 
“Just gotta take a leak, be right back.” You just snuggle deeper into the pillows, humming in understandment. Bucky has to put one hand on the wall in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet at an awkward angle trying to push his erection down with his other hand so he could pee. It took a bit of work, but he was able to go without making a mess. Now, Bucky might be a lot of things, but unhygienic isn’t one of them and before he goes back to bed he washes his hands.
Once he walks back into the room he sees that you’re more awake than before but still laying in bed. He hits the lightswitch on his way over and turns on the lamp, letting the soft glow illuminate your features. “What took you so long? Almost fell back asleep.”
Before he could answer, you wrap your body around his and feel his hard cock through his sweats. Pulling away slightly, your face gets hot. That’s why he took so long. “Shit, sweets, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, you were in my bed, and you look so gorgeous. Not that I’m expecting anything! But the image of you is fucking hot. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”
Your giggle catches him by surprise. “It’s okay, Bucky. Can’t imagine going from having sex all the time to being abstinent for a month.” With the soft glow of the lamp, you see Bucky’s blush. “Just don’t think I’m going to fix it for you though.” He shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pulling you back into him, keeping his pelvis away from yours even though his dick was begging for release.
Bucky doesn’t say anything back, but his hand moves to your waist, resting over your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles before he trails his hand up to your ribs and you can feel the heat of his palm through your shirt. For a few minutes he keeps his hand there, feeling your heartbeat, all the while moving his face closer.
He can feel your heartbeat pick up the closer he gets. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and inviting. You’ve never been this close to his face, seeing all of his freckles up close. You don’t want him to pull away, not when your whole body is thrumming with need. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that Bucky could be this gentle.
He moves his hand up to your arm, delicately trailing his fingertips up and down, giving you goosebumps. Bucky is waiting for you to make the first move this time. The first time he kissed you was crass and unwarranted. The little gasp that leaves your lips when his palm rests on your cheek makes his cock jump.
Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in first. His plump lips meet yours and you moan into his mouth, not expecting his lips to be so soft and warm. You move your hands to his chest, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel his whole body pressed to yours. You ignore the erection pressed against your stomach, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 
Bucky frees his other hand from under him and wraps it around your waist, pulling you on top of him. The pressure of his hand caused you to arch your back, gasping when your core meets his hard dick. Bucky doesn’t waste the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste. He has to use every bit of self control in his body not to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t have to because you grind down onto him, searching for friction. The harder you kiss him, the more his will slips from him and he was the first to break the kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting you to him.
Both of you gasp for breath, having deprived yourselves of oxygen for too long. “Why’d you stop?” God, you were perfect. Eyes wide, pupils blown, kiss swollen lips - Bucky knew that he wanted to keep you like this all the time, having you look at him like that was addicting and he was already hooked.
“If we keep going I won’t be able to control myself and I told you that I’m going to prove to you that I’m in this. That I don’t want you just for sex. I’m going to treat you right, make sure you know how much I care first.” You have to bite your lip to stop the moan leaving you. That was the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. The fact that Bucky, the resident fuckboy, is denying sex because he wants to show you what you mean to him first has your cunt clenching around nothing.
You can’t think of words to convey how much that means to you, so you just slam your lips against his, kissing him with as much passion as you possibly could. Bucky has to use every morsel of restraint to move you off of him. “Sweets, you’re going to kill me with this.” The giggle you let out makes leaving his throbbing dick alone worth it, but you take pity on him and ask if he wants to go to the bathroom to fix his issue.
At first he declines, but he eventually caves and goes into the bathroom, shuts the door and handles his business. You scroll on your phone for a bit but you’re surprised when he comes back so fast. “Loverboy, this better not be a sign that you don’t last in bed, because when we do have sex, I want you to fuck me properly.”
As he flops back down on the bed, he groans. When, you said when, not if, when. “Sweets, if I hadn’t just came my dick would be rock hard again. You can’t say shit like that to me.” He rolls over, stradling you. “And sweets, I promise you, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name.”
You just raise your eyebrows, choosing to tease him a bit. “Well, based on the time you spent touching yourself, I’m not convinced. Hope your reputation hasn’t gone to your head because I’ll be honest if you can’t fuck me right.”
Bucky squints his eyes at you before leaning down, like he was going to kiss you again, but at the last moment, he pulls back and tickles your sides. Your laughter is easily one of his favorite sounds. “Bucky! Stop or else I’ll never have sex with you.” That makes him pause, even though he knew it was an empty threat and lays back down next to you.
“Okay, okay, sweets, I’ll leave you be. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you tickling me.” 
“What, is this a kink that you have, being tickled?” He scrunches his nose while he laughs, knowing what he was going to say next.
“No, but I would love it if you would tickle my pickle.” He smirks like it was the best joke ever told, proud of himself. You groan and turn away from him so he can’t see your smile. “C’mon, sweets, that was a good one.”
If you turn around you know you’ll see his puppy dog eyes. “Buck, that was the worst joke in the history of jokes.” 
“Ah, ah, I can hear your smile. You loved it.” You don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you liked his joke. It’s silent for a moment and you are about to turn back around but Bucky talks before you can. “Do you mind if we spoon? I mean, you don’t have to stay overnight, but if you want to, ya’ know.”
“Well, it is pretty cold outside, and I would hate to have to walk all the way back. And who knows, I could freeze to death at my dorm. Better be safe than sorry.” Bucky knows what you're doing and plays along.
“Of course, sweets, can’t have my girl freeze. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t keep my girl warm.” You skooch back, pressing against his chest and his arms circle your waist, chin resting on your head. “Night, sweets, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Only if I don’t run away, loverboy.” You feel the vibrations of his chest as he chuckles before leaning back to turn the lamp off, falling asleep with your soft body pressed to his.
Over the next few months, Bucky proves himself to be the perfect boyfriend, always asking you how your day was, remembering all the little things about you, kissing you and holding your hand around campus, not giving a single fuck who saw the two of you. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was whipped.
“Buck, c’mon, this is the best fucking party of the year, you have to go. It’s gonna be packed with girls in slutty costumes, Halloween man, everyone wants to fuck everyone.” Bucky only rolls his eyes at Steve.
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, parties aren’t for me anymore. Hangovers suck dick and I have better things to do in my free time.” Steve doesn’t seem to understand how much Bucky loved you. He’s never said it, at least not yet. 
“Like what, hanging out with the nerd who hasn’t put out in three months? C’mon, I know you want some pussy and it’s gonna be on a fucking platter tonight.” Bucky sees red, not giving a shit that Steve is his best friend. No one talks about his girl like that, no one.
“Steve, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but you fucking know how much I care about her. If I ever hear you call her that shit again, I’ll put you in the fucking hospital. I couldn’t give less of a shit about how long I have to wait for her to know that I don’t just want a pussy to fuck, not anymore. I’m done with the parties and the random girls, okay. So get that through your thick skull.”
He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, storming out of Steve’s dorm and walking away, not even caring where he was headed. He doesn’t know how he got there, but he stands outside of your door, raising his hand to knock. You always answer the door for him and this time is no different.
“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You were so tuned into him, reading him like a book. Without waiting you pull him into your dorm, shutting and locking the door behind him, leading him to your bed. His jaw was clenched, eyes set. If he was a cartoon, steam would be pouring from his ears.
“Fucking Steve.” He kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable in your bed, you following right after. You would go anywhere he goes.
Cuddling up to him, you pull him into you and his muscles relax at your touch, body responding to yours without thought. “What about Steve? You two get into a fight?” You never really liked Steve, but he was Bucky’s friend and you would listen to whatever he had to say about Steve. He was just like Bucky was before he met you.
“Being a fucking asshole. You wanna know what he said to me?” Bucky doesn’t wait for you to answer, only turning his head to see you better before continuing. “Wanted me to go to the Halloween party tonight, talking about all the girls that want to fuck as if he doesn’t know that I’m with you.” That doesn’t seem as bad as you thought, thinking that they got into a fist fight. It doesn’t surprise you that Steve was still trying to convince Bucky to go back to his playboy ways.
But Bucky wasn’t finished. “He had the fucking nerve to say that I should go because we haven’t had sex yet, like I give a shit about that. Fucking disrespected you right to my face.” You couldn’t deny that you were turned on by the fact that Bucky was defending your honor even when you weren’t there, not letting anyone bad mouth you.
“And what did you say, Buck?” Fuck, your voice was breathing, heartrate picking up. You wanted to hear what he said, how he told his best friend off. Bucky didn’t seem to pick up on your arousal, still too heated from his argument.
“Fucking told his ass that if he ever says that shit again, I’ll fuck him up. No one talks about my girl like that, don’t give a shit who it is.” You swear you could cum right now. Why was that so hot? Maybe it was because you’ve never had a man that didn’t let anyone disrespect you, or maybe you just liked to see him mad.
“I want you, Bucky. Want you to fuck me.” It just comes out, shocking the both of you. Bucky whips his head around, eyes as wide as your own.
“What?” 
“I want you to fuck me. I’m ready, know you don’t just want to use me.” Bucky’s dick is rock hard in seconds, all the anger in his body disapparating instantly. 
“Are you sure you want this, sweets? Because I have no problem waiting.” Throughout the course of your dating, Bucky can’t count the amount of times that he’s been hard and left his cock untouched. It’s gotten to the point where the two of you knew he was going to get hard when he was around you, not that it bothered you, knowing how much you were affecting him, but Bucky’s used to ignoring his erection now and he has no problem waiting for it to go away if you don’t want to have sex with him.
“Yes, Bucky, I think I’ve made you wait long enough. And to be honest, if I make you wait any longer I don’t think you’ll last more than a minute.” The mouth on you marvels Bucky every time. 
“Excuse me, sweets, but I’ll have you know I’m no two pump chump.” You only raise an eyebrow and Bucky huffs before kissing you again. It’s slow and hot. Bucky’s never kissed like this before, but with you he just can’t help but savor the feeling of your lips on his. He doesn’t want to rush, if he could he would kiss you forever, stuck in limbo, floating with only your touch to ground him.
You whine, hands pulling at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. Bucky moves back, smirking at you. “Desperate, aren’t we? Just wanna feel me ‘gainst you, huh?” Teasing hasn’t been something Bucky really did, always hurrying to the main event, but he wants to make you crave him as much as he does you. 
The glare you give him holds no heat, not able to be mad at him when he’s looking so damn hot above you. Bucky relents, just this once, and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach. He sucks a breath in through his teeth when your hands land on his abs. “Holy hell, woman! Your hands are fucking ice cubes!” You giggle but don’t pull away, sitting up and moving your hands across his back, slipping them into his sweats, finding his bare ass and squeezing.
“Well, loverboy, warm them up for me.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling at you. He takes your hands out of his pants and lays you back down, letting his warm palms circle the soft skin of your belly under your shirt. 
“Can I take this off, sweetheart? Gonna let me see those pretty tits?” Your cunt pulses at his words. Men that you’ve been with before haven’t talked to you like this, making you yearn for them.
“I mean, you can take it off but they’re not that pretty.” Bucky wheels his head back, clearly offended by your statement. For the first time, you shy away from his gaze. You weren’t exactly insecure about your body, but you also weren’t the most confident and you doubt that your body is better than the surplus of girls Bucky’s had.
“I beg your fucking pardon, sweets. I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.” Bucky lowers his face to yours, and you’re sure he is looking right through you. 
“Well, I doubt they’re the best pair you’ve seen, Buck. Don’t roll your eyes at me either.” You catch the eye roll Bucky gave you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, but rather the words you were saying.
“I can’t believe my ears, sweets. The smartest girl I’ve ever met is saying what is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve heard. And that’s coming from the guy who is friends with Sam.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes and instead of saying anything back to him, you grab the bottom of your shirt and take it off, revealing your naked chest to him, foregoing a bra.
Like any man, Bucky gets distracted by the sight of your breasts on display for him. It takes him a second, but he shakes his head and comes back from his daze. “Fuck, sweetheart, you got the prettiest set of tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. Fucking perfect.” Bucky isn’t lying either, he really does think that you’re the most beautiful woman on the entire planet, every part of your body is perfection. “Should be a model, sweets, let everyone see how gorgeous you are.”
You feel the heat creep up your neck and rest on your cheeks. You aren’t used to being looked at like this. The look he’s giving you is so much different from when you first started working with him. It’s not filled with lust, although you can tell it’s there, but filled with awe and love. “Uh, uh, don’t look away from me. Want you to look at me while I make you cum.”
He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot that he found the first time you made out. The little gasps and whines that leave your lips has his cock begging to be touched, but right now it isn’t about him, it’s about you.
You arch your back, pressing your soft breasts against his solid chest, drawing his attention away from your neck and to your tits. Trailing kisses down your chest, he swirls his tongue around your right breast, purposely avoiding your sensitive nipple. He doesn’t listen to any of your protests so you take matters into your own hands and grab a fistfull of his hair and jerk his head to where you want him to be. 
 The moan that leaves Bucky is pornographic, having no idea he liked his hair pulled that much. Bucky abides and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. “Oh, Bucky, just like that, feels good.” Bucky has to buck his hips into yours, never hearing something so sexy in all his life.
His other hand comes up to grab your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, every so often switching to give each one the attention they deserve. The longer he plays with your breasts, the more you feel your panties soak and you can’t take it anymore, needing some type of release.
Bucky pulls away with a pop, the cool air hitting your wet nipples makes you gasp. “Baby, I need you to touch me.” You can sense the words about to leave his mouth and answer his unspoken question. “Touch my pussy.”
Letting out a deep groan, Bucky grabs the hem of your sleep shorts, pulling them and your panties down when you nod. Your hand jets down to cover your pussy when you remember that you haven’t shaved, not expecting to have sex with Bucky tonight. “Wait, I have hair right now, maybe we shouldn’t.”
Bucky just blinks at you. He can’t believe that you would deprive him of your pussy because of a little hair. “Sweets, I have been a patient man, but I swear to God if you don’t move your hand and let me see my pretty pussy I’m going to lose my mind. You really think I give a shit if you have some fucking hair?”
You just smile sheepishly at him before removing your hand. “There she is. Look at her, so beautiful ain’t she? Yeah, she’s dripping for me, knows who she belongs to.” Fuck, you didn’t expect him to be so enamored with your cunt. “Ya gonna let me touch my pretty girl?”
You gulp before giving a breathy yes and Bucky spreads your legs a little wider and brings his right hand up to your pussy lips, gently tracing them making you twitch and giggle. “Bucky, that tickles.” Bucky smiles and his nose scrunches before his thumb goes from your hole up to your clit. “Fuck, Bucky, rub my clit.”
He just stops his movement, resting his thumb on your bundle of nerves. “This is where I’m in charge, sweets, and I don’t think that was a very polite way of talking to the man who is touching you.” You huff, not used to taking orders from anyone, but you want him to keep touching you so you relent.
“Will you please, rub my clit, loverboy.”
Bucky clicks his tongue at you. “Now, sweets, that didn’t sound very genuine but I’ll let it slide this time because I want to see this pretty pussy soak my sheets.” 
He starts to rub your clit from side to side, making you jerk your hips away. “Don’t fucking DJ my cunt. Circles, Buck, circles. You’re making me lose faith in you, babe.” Heat makes its way up his neck, his selfishness finally catching up to him. He doesn’t say anything, but switches up his method to what you said and you giggle at his confidence wavering.
His little slip up doesn’t slow him down, though, quickly finding the pace and pressure that seems to work best and draws those pretty sounds from your lips. Bucky knows that he isn’t going to be able to get enough of this, of you laid out on his bed consumed by the pleasure he is giving you. 
“You want my fingers inside ya? Cause I wanna feel my pretty girl cum around my fingers.” You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten to the edge this fast. All you can do is nod, moans and gasps the only sounds leaving your lips.
When his first finger slips inside you, your back arches and somehow the moans leaving you get even sexier and Bucky slips another finger in. “That’s it, pretty girl, suck my fingers in. Doing so good for me, knew you’d treat me so well. Don’t ya think, sweets?” The way he talks to your pussy has you leaking more arousal out.
“Please, Bucky, don’t stop, keep going just like that. M’gonna cum.”
A jolt of excitement shoots up Bucky’s spine. He wanted to see you cum so bad. Using every bit of self control in his body not to speed up, Bucky kept the same pace, curling his fingers to find that spongy patch. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, sweets, need to feel my pretty girl cum on my fingers. Promise I’ll feed her my cock after.”
Bucky groans with each clench of your cunt around his fingers, more desperate than you for your orgasm. “C’mon, sweets, give it to me. Can feel your clit pulsing. Be my good girl and give me what I want.” That was all you needed to fall off the edge, trusting that Bucky would catch you. 
Bucky’s sure that the sight of you cumming is the greatest thing in the world. He couldn’t dream of fucking you and not seeing you fall apart for him. He never stops moving his fingers, riding out your orgasm, only relenting when you push his hand away. It takes a few minutes, but you come back down, an open mouth smile on your face, eyes closed and Bucky falls even harder for you.
Blindly, you search for his pants, wanting to see his cock. “Bring him out, Buck, wanna see my new friend.” If it wasn’t for the orgasm he just gave you, Bucky would have been positive that you were drunk off your ass. Doubling over, Bucky cackles, not expecting to hear that come out of your mouth. “Don’t you laugh at me, loverboy, know your cock is huge. Let me meet him. Wanna put him in my mouth.” You give him a lopsided smirk.
“Don’t worry, sweets, you can meet him.” Bucky struggles to hold back his laugh. In all fairness, he did refer to your pussy as her, but the thought of you calling his dick him is hilarious. Nonetheless, Bucky strips the rest of his clothes off and you practically drool at the sight of his dick.
A little over average length, but thick as hell. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a cock that thick and you know he is going to destroy your cunt. Under his cock, his balls were heavy and full, the amount of cum in there building up just for you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you and Bucky has to catch himself with his arms so he doesn’t crush you with his weight. 
You both gasp when his bare cock rubs against your soaking cunt. Bucky has to close his eyes and think about all the assignments he still has to complete to stop himself from cumming on the spot. “Want it inside me, please, Buck, give it to me.” Bucky is near the verge of crying when you grind your cunt on him.
All you want is for him to fuck you until you can’t see straight and so does Bucky, but it takes everything in him to put away, knowing that the next words to come out of his mouth aren’t going to be sexy. “Hold on, sweets. I have to get a condom first.”
You don’t like that one bit, wanting to feel him inside you with no barrier. “Don’t need one, ‘m on the pill.” That has Bucky about to cum all over his sheets and your pussy. He knows that he needs to be responsible, not only for him, but for you too.
“Sweets, I, well, I haven’t been tested since my last partner. I’ve never done it without a condom, but I don’t want to risk it until I get tested.” He hangs his head in shame, yet again his promiscuity is coming back to bite him in the ass. What he wouldn’t give to feel your sopping cunt choke his dick, hell only knows, but his statement seems to sober you up.
“Oh, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” You can’t meet his eyes, the conversation awkward enough even if you weren’t about to fuck. Bucky takes in a deep breath and huffs out, clearly not knowing what to do next so you decide to lighten the mood. “Well, loverboy, you better wrap that bad boy up so you can prove that you can actually fuck me like you said you would.”
You got Bucky to crack a smile before he gave a small smack to your thigh and walked over to his nightstand to get a condom. You wolf whistled when you saw his toned ass. “Damn, baby, you’ve been holding out on me?”
Bucky wheels around and says some clever retort, but you don’t hear it, not when his cock swings around with him, bobbing at the sudden change of direction. Not only that, but with each step he takes, his dick bounces up and down. “Sweetheart, it’s all yours. Stare all you want but close your mouth before I put somethin’ in there.”
Bucky rolls the condom down his length, giving it a few pumps while he admires you laid out on his bed, naked and ready for him to fuck you. Before he climbs back into bed, you stop him. “Wait, loverboy, do a little spin for me, let me see him move.”
Throwing his head back, Bucky lets out a belly laugh, and he just so happens to make his cock and balls bounce. “C’mon, s’all I want.” When he calms down, Bucky relents and circles his hips a few times, his cock, although stiff, moves with his hips and you have to close your legs to try to relieve the ache in your core. “Fuck, need you now, Bucky.”
“Yeah, sweets, you need my cock? Does my pretty girl need to be stuffed with my cock?” No smart retort comes to your mind, only the need to have him fill you up. It’s been way too long since you’ve had sex and you know Bucky’s cock is going to ruin you for anyone else.
“Please, Buck.” Fuck, the way you’re looking at him, with wide, pleading eyes, and a pout on your lips has Bucky’s dick pulsing. He climbs on the bed, in between your legs. “How do you want me?” You’ve overheard Bucky relive his one night stands more than once in class, before he fell for you. He was always adamant that the only positions worth doing were the ones where he could see the girl’s ass, and how boring positions where he could see her face were. 
Bucky stares at you for a second, cupping your face and leaning down to give you a tender kiss. “Want you just like this, sweets, wanna see you.” You swallow hard, willing yourself not to cry at how intimate he’s being. Despite your best efforts, tears well up in your eyes, making Bucky panic.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” His eyes hold so much love, something Bucky never thought he would feel for a partner. You wrap your legs and arms around him, clinging like a koala.
“Not a damn thing, Buck, just love you. Love you so fucking much it hurts.” Bucky feels his heart swell. If this is what it felt like to love and be loved, Bucky would spend the rest of his life trying to keep you, show you how perfect you are, love you as hard as he can and then some.
“Sweetheart, I can’t even put into words how much I fucking love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, made me change from the asshole I was.” Bucky had his own tears welling up in his waterline.
“Buck, make love to me, show me how much you love me.” Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his dick, drawing a gasp from his lips, and line him up with your pussy. He presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he pushes in, cock stretching your cunt with every inch.
Crashing his lips into yours, Bucky tries to hide his moan, whiny and long, never feeling such intense pleasure. Neither of you can kiss, just gasping into the other’s mouth. When his hips are flush with yours, balls resting against your ass, Bucky has to stop. If he moves he’ll cum; he knows it. He’s never felt like he would cum on the first stroke, but the way your cunt hugs him has him doubting that he’ll last more than a few minutes.
You can’t handle it, the stretch of his cock almost too much, but you needed him to move. “Please, baby, move, need it.” The moan that leaves him is sinful and you involuntarily clench around him.
“Sweets, can’t. Need a minute.” His arms go to your waist, and he pulls you up, groaning when his cock shifts deeper inside you, and sits with his back against the headboard, keeping you wrapped in his arms, bodies pressed so close together you could feel every muscle. Bucky closes his eyes, resting his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relishing in the intimacy of the moment, with your breasts squished against his chest, feeling every breath you take, loving your soft hands scratching his scalp.
“Do this with all the girls, loverboy?” The breathiness in your voice has his cock pulsing against your walls.
“Never, sweetheart, never. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky sounded like he was about to cry with how hard he was trying not to cum.
You wanted him to fuck you, pussy leaking down his thighs. You decided that if you annoy him enough he might just fuck you dumb. “Guess I was right then, loverboy can’t last in bed. Gonna tell everyone how I broke your cock, how fast you came for me.”
That seemed to strike a nerve and Bucky rolled over, pining you to the bed with his body. You gasped at the quick motion and the jostle of his cock. “Sweets, now is not the time to tease me. Use your mouth for something better.” He could already hear your, like what, so he cut you off before you could get anything out. “Like moaning my name while I fuck you.”
He doesn’t pull his cock out far, wanting to stay as close to you as possible. Pushing back in, he groans, having to will himself not to cum. You feel so good, pussy wrapped around him perfectly. “Sweets, love you so much, never wanna leave this pussy.” You whine, a jolt of pleasure going through your clit at his words. 
“Love you too, Buck. Want to stay like this forever, want you.” It’s Bucky’s turn to whine, rutting into you, the coarse curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, the sensation of your breasts pressed to him new to him. 
He can’t help it, you just look too pretty underneath him, grabbing both of your hands in his, lacing them together and putting them above your head and pressing his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes. His lips meet yours, both of your whines and moans mix together. 
The constant roll of his hips is pushing you to the edge faster than ever before. You take one of your hands, still laced with his, and place it over his heart, feeling the erratic beat. The coil in your stomach is curling tighter and tighter. “C’mon, sweets, can feel you clenching ‘round me. Give it to me, cum on my cock.” 
Bucky is doing his best to hold on, wanting this moment to last, to relish in the bubble the two of you have created. His moans get louder, his own orgasm creeping up on him. Wiggling your other hand out of his grasp, you run your fingers over the back of his head, crashing your lips on his before you fall off the edge, eyes rolling back and body quivering, his body the only thing grounding you.
He had to pull out, your pussy almost milking his cum out, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wants to make you cum again, this time while he looks at your face, seeing it scrunch up in pleasure. You didn’t seem too happy at him for pulling out, needing him to be as close as possible. “Keep fucking me, Bucky. I need you to cum for me.”
Bucky groans before guiding his cock back home, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your pussy somehow got even tighter. Not wasting any time, he starts thrusting again, this time much faster, still rolling his hips, hitting your sweet spot every time.
Pulling his body away from yours, Bucky sits up, resting your thighs over his, keeping his dick inside of you, not missing a single thrust. With the new position, he can see your breasts bounce, but more importantly, how beautiful your face looks screwed in ecstasy. “So fucking beautiful for me, sweets. Love the way your pretty tits jiggle, look gorgeous when your getting fucked dumb on my cock, gonna keep you like this all the time.” 
In this position, your clit is being neglected so you reach one hand down, desperate to cum again. Bucky quickly swats your hand away, replacing it with his own. “Ah, ah, I’m gonna make my girl cum. Just want you to lay there and look pretty for me. Can you do that for me?” You just moan in response, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit, bringing you to the edge again. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes! I’ll do anything you want.” You feel Bucky’s cock pulsing inside of you, thrusts becoming sloppy and losing their rhythm. “Cum for me, Bucky, fill me up with your cum.” You both know that he is wearing a condom, but the thought of his cum rushing into your pussy, stuffing you to the brim, is enough to have Bucky emptying his balls into the rubber, groaning deep, almost whining your name.
He can’t stop thrusting into you, still rubbing your clit, desperate for you to cum around him. “Sweets, so much fucking cum for you, know you can take it. Fuck, cum for me, milk my cock, get every drop out.” Bucky was right, you looked absolutely divine when you came. At that moment you’ve never looked prettier.
Bucky never felt an orgasm that intense, leaving him weak in the knees. Collapsing onto your chest, not able to hold his own weight up. You huff, air being pushed out of your lungs, but you don’t mind, his weight soothing, helping to bring you back down from the highs of your orgasms. You both lay there, hands stroking each other until you fully come back to reality.
“Gonna pull out, sweets, okay?” Bucky has never had his cock in a girl this long after he’s came, and it was getting too sensitive. Words don’t come to mind and you just nod your head dumbly, both of you hissing at the sensation.
Without a word, Bucky gets up and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. All of a sudden tears well up in your eyes, body cold and craving his touch. He’s been so sweet to you for the past months, proving that he didn’t just want sex with you, but now he’s walking away as soon as you’re done. 
The buzzing of your body goes away, dread filling you. Rolling over, you burrito yourself under the covers, facing away from the bathroom, not able to stop the tears from streaming down your face. It only takes a few minutes, but to you it feels like a lifetime, until Bucky comes back, sliding under the covers himself. 
“So, sweets, what do ya’ want to do? I could go for a bite to eat myself. Don’t know when the last time you ate was though.” Bucky, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of the best sex of his life, already thinking about all the things he could do with you, all the ways he could get you to cum for him.
When you don’t respond right away, Bucky thinks you fell asleep. Leaving a kiss to the back of your head, he gets up and puts his sweats on, not bothering with anything else and heads to your kitchen. He doesn’t feel like making a full meal so he decides to just make a quick sandwich and head back to bed after eating.
You burst into full blown sobs when Bucky leaves, assuming that he left your dorm all together, having no idea that he was just outside. How could you have been so stupid to think that he really wanted you? Bucky goes to take a bite out of his snack when he hears your sobs, immediately thinking the worst - he hurt you, did something you didn’t like.
Rushing back into the room, Bucky climbs back into bed, rolling you over without warning. “What are you still doing here? Thought you left?” How could you ever think that he would leave you?
“No, sweets, just went to make a sandwich. What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Bucky has never been so fucking scared in all his life, terrified that he hurt you.
“Thought you left after you got what you wanted. You just left me in the bed after we were done.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting you to say that. He doesn’t know what he did wrong. He’s never stuck around after sex, confused at what’s going on with you.
“Sweets, I’m so sorry that I made you think that, but I don’t know what’s going on. Need you to talk to me. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.” Your bottom lip wobbled, of course he didn’t know about aftercare. It wasn’t his fault that he never had a relationship like this. It meant so much to you that he was asking how to fix his mistake.
“I get really sensitive after sex. It’s annoying actually, but I need to be held and told that you still love me.” You avoid his gaze, more tears making their way down your face, Bucky wiping them away. How could his perfect girl think that her needs were annoying or an inconvenience to him.
“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” Bucky pulls you into his lap, almost petting your hair. “You did so good for me, you know that? I love you so fucking much and nothing is going to change that, okay?” He pulls your head back to look into your eyes.
“It’s just that my last boyfriend said that he couldn’t look at me after sex, said he couldn’t see me the same way.” What in the fuck. 
“Sweetheart, I need you to understand that I know that I’m the fucking luckiest man alive to be able to be with you any way you let me. When I look at you I’m so proud to call you mine.”
You bury your head in his shoulder, letting him hold you and whisper sweet words in your ear. For his first time doing aftercare, Bucky is doing great and soon you come all the way down. Pulling away from him you giggle. “Love you too, Buck. Thank you for that. I know some men don’t care about that. After they get what they want they leave.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, thinking about all the girls he made feel like they were worthless. “I know that you did the same thing, but the fact that you were so willing to change means a lot to me.”
Bucky knows that there’s a lot he has to learn about being in a relationship, but he wants to learn it all to be the man you deserve. He is going to treat you like the goddess you are for the rest of his life, he knows it, already planning on picking out a ring, because he’s gonna love you for a long, long time.
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dearaceofhearts · 3 days
Text
you walk out after an argument
characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is
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♡ husk
when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.
in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.
but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.
his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.
husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.
when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."
husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.
"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.
you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."
♡ alastor
"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.
when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"
he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.
alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.
so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?
he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.
...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.
one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.
"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.
upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.
"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.
"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.
♡ angel dust
his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.
despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.
while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.
he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.
one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.
but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?
after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.
he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.
he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"
the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.
it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.
♡ vox
he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.
(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).
(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).
his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.
he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.
and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.
all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.
"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.
his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.
meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."
vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"
"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.
it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.
"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.
"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.
suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.
♡ lucifer
he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.
all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—
he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.
most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.
thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.
"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."
you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."
his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.
after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.
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© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!
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5sospenguinqueen · 18 hours
Text
Love To Hate | Daniel Ricciardo x Gasly! Reader
Summary: Daniel Ricciardo is known for bickering with Pierre Gasly's older sister online. The fans love it but they suspect there might be something more behind it.
Warnings: Swearing. One sexual innuendo. Female reader.
Takes place in the 2022 season so Daniel is with McLaren.
Main Masterlist
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mclaren just posted
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liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and others
mclaren spot the difference #MonacoGP tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo
2,446 comments
YourUserName the one on the left can actually drive
→ User 1 wtf does she know about f1
→ User 2 um, her baby brother is a GP winner so…
danielricciardo @ YourUserName coming from the woman who failed her driving test twice
→ YourUserName @ pierregasly you weren’t supposed to tell your little racing friends that!
→ pierregasly do not drag me into this nonsense.
landonorris @ YourUserName thanks pookie
→ danielricciardo more like pukie
→ YourUserName you’re just mad that he gets bitches and you don’t
→ danielricciardo okay, cradle snatcher
User 3 mom and dad are fighting again
danielricciardo here’s to a good weekend 💪
→ YourUserName ass licker
→ danielricciardo you wish.
→ maxverstappen1 can you guys not do your foreplay privately
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by arthur_leclerc, lilymhe and others
YourUserName soaking up the sun before the madness resumes (01/06/2022) 🌻
2,488 comments
danielricciardo i need to bleach my eyes. please cover you up before you mentally scar someone else.
→ User 5 he says like his jaw didn’t drop when this came across his timeline
User 6 how to become y/n gasly
→ YourUserName have an annoying brother and endure his equally insufferable friends
lilymhe the only reason i’m still with Alex is so i have an excuse to spend time with you in the paddock
→ YourUserName we could get married and then you could see me all the time??
→ alex_albon it’s a good thing I’m used to this or i might cry
→ georgerussle63 don’t lie. i can hear you sobbing from my hotel room.
MaleFriend wow 🥵 → danielricciardo try harder (comment deleted)
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PierreGASLY you’re both certified yappers. it’s why the two of you together is a nightmare
User 7 hmm, okay but why were you two together in the first place if you hate each other…
→ danielricciardo I was bullying her
→ YourUserName pierre ditched me to talk to a pretty girl and Daniel was making fun of the fact that I got lost
→ LandoNorris i wouldn’t have left you… just saying 👀
→ YourUserName i’m 10 years old than you, boo.
→ LandoNorris age is just a number
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danielricciardo just posted
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liked by mclaren, scottyjames31 and others
danielricciardo preferred mode of transport... fast
6,443 comments
YourUserName title of your sex tape “i'm in love with my car”
YourUserName someone’s clearly compensating for something
→ danielricciardo omg why are you so obsessed with me. Get out of my comments, stalker
→ YourUserName let’s not forget you stalked me first
→ danielricciardo where’s your proof
→ pierregasly here. you begged me for her instagram until i gave in
→ danielricciardo and then i realised what a bitch she was
→ YourUserName just ‘cause i wouldn’t blow you
→ pierregasly i need you to delete this
User 1 this man is so fine
User 2 i’d like to ride
→ YourUserName you’d have more fun with the car
→ User 2 omg hi queen
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liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and others
YourUserName last race of the season today. just wanted to say a big ‘well done’ to my baby bro. so proud of all you achieved this season and i know you’ll go on to kill it next year! 🍾 #AbuDhabiGP
3,323 comments
YourUserName yes, i know one pic has daniel. no, it’s not an announcement of our friendship. i just like how scared pear looks
User 8 i have never been more attracted to a frenchman before
danielricciardo and who is that handsome man
→ YourUserName there is not a single handsome man in this post; charles was sulking out of the frame
→ pierregasly 1) i am very handsome, 2) stay away from charles, he’s too nice for you
→ danielricciardo and too pretty
→ charles_leclerc stop it or i will fall in love with all of you
→ YourUserName @ pierregasly i’ll stop if you promise to get rid of daniel so i don’t have to see him again
→ danielricciardo and deny you of my bakery 🍑
→ User 9 it's cake, honey, but you tried
User 10 anyone catch the camera panning to y/n when daniel’s car spun out in qualifying
→ User 11 talk about delulu
→ User 12 because he almost crashed into her brother so obvi they would show her
pierregasly just posted
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liked by francisca.cgomes, yukitsunoda0511 and others
pierregasly a huge thank you to my support system. je t'aime grande soeur 🌸 (she forced me to post this, please send help)
5,222 comments
YourUserName you’re such a liar! you were legit crying to me last night about how nice it is that i still come to all your races and then said you wanted the world to know
→ pierregasly don’t expose me!
→ landonorris come sit in my car instead. rub a little luck on it
→ User 12 never beating the no rizz allegations
danielricciardo @ landonorris probably best she doesn't, she’s clearly a curse, mate
→ YourUserName and how many races did you win this season?
→ danielricciardo i hope pierre pushes you off the plane tomorrow
→ YourUserName i hope you get run over in the pits
alphatauri we love having you in the garage
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User 1 agreed. her hair looked so pretty today and he ruined it
User 2 only for him to then completely forget what he was saying when he realised she was wearing a white shirt? yes! it’s been playing in my head
→ User 3 can’t say i blame him. i too was no better than a man 👀
User 4 but the way he covered her body with his the second he realised to stop the camera focusing on her see-through top
→ User 5 and then gave her one of his shirts because she was walking around in a mclaren top until pierre yanked her into the alphatauri garage
→ User 6 guys, this is bare minimum. him being hot doesn’t make this extra chivalrous
User 7 another angle of that video showed it was an accident. he can be seen saying sorry a billion times and after that, they put a border around the fountain
YourUserName posted a new story
danielricciardo reposted your story
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and others
YourUserName happy 4 year anniversary to my professional car crasher tagged: danielricciardo
7,114 comments
User 1 i knew it! they all called me crazy
danielricciardo delete this. you said you would be a nice. i’m a champion! how many trophies do you have, huh
→ YourUserName depends on how many i steal from the trophy case in our living room (plus, those are replicas)
→ User 2 our?!?!
charles_leclerc but i thought you loved me?
→ YourUserName i do, citrouille. but, daniel and pierre are keeping us apart.
User 3 4 years? this means they were together when he was still at red bull! what did you think about him leaving?
→ YourUserName i'm not allowed to talk about that
landonorris congratulations, mum and dad
→ alex_albon congratulations, mum and dad
→ georgerussell63 congratulations, mum and dad
→ YourUserName i didn’t sign up for this responsibility
→ danielricciardo they’re a package deal, babe. they come with me
maxverstappen1 oh, thank god. It was so hard keeping this to myself in interviews
danielricciardo just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, kellypiquet and others
danielricciardo contrary to popular belief, pierre is not my favourite gasly
6,998 comments
YourUserName aww, mon coeur, you actually used nice photos
→ danielricciardo don’t speak french to me, you know it turns me on
→ maxverstappen1 i miss when you publicly hated each other
pierregasly you take that back!
pierregasly that’s it. you’re off the Christmas card list
francisca.cgomes wonderful, daniel, now he’s sulking
→ YourUserName you get used to it. they may seem cool but all f1 drivers are essentially big crybabies
→ danielricciardo hey!
→ charles_leclerc hey!
→ pierregasly hey!
→ alex_albon hey!
→ landonorris hey!
→ carlossainz55 hey!
→ georgerussell63 true
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Please request if you have any ideas you'd like to see, and I'll do my best to bring them to life <3
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megistusdiary · 3 days
Note
If Arlecchino sees you as a replacement for her childhood friend (Clervie) and you accidentally find out, it makes you very sad and when she finds out she is next to comfort and prove Show you how much she loves you, not see you as a replacement by feeling guilty about you. 🤭
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i think you guys are obsessed with hurting me
angst with arlecchino
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arlecchino x fem!reader
warnings: angst (hurt + comfort), suggestive at the end
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it was a mistake to look in her journal. you should've known better than to pry into her personal thoughts. that journal was for secrets, and as she always said, things she kept secret from you were better that way.
the only way she even knew you read it was the singular teardrop left on the corner of the page. it irreversibly smudged the ink, leaving a permanent addition to her writing that spoke louder than any of the words on the page.
"let me explain." she answered you, finally managing to corner you as you lay in your shared bed, tears in your eyes.
"explain what? that i'm just... some replacement for someone you lost?" it's obvious you're hurting, and so is she. while she wishes you would've never set foot in her office, she also knows her own internal thoughts are the problem.
she approaches the bed, gently kneeling down at the side, wrinkling her neatly pressed pants. "please listen." and you can hear the desperation in her normally cold tone. "i never meant for you to see that journal."
"but i did."
"what you read was something i've kept bottled up. you are not clervie's replacement, you are my wife." she tells you firmly, reaching over to hold your hand. "i saw good in her, good that i knew i couldn't possess myself. i am cursed, after all. it's the same good that i saw in you." she pauses, looking up at you. "i see things that remind me of her in you, not the other way around."
"what difference does it make? you'll always compare me to a girl you keep alive in your memories alone." you sniffle, wiping your eyes.
"i won't deny that clervie will never leave my memories. she was the only friend i've ever had until i met you." she rubs her thumb across the back of your hand. "i fell in love with you not because of clervie, and it takes me time to see the resemblance. it is no surprise i would seek out someone so... kind-hearted."
you stay quiet and she pulls your chin to look at her. "i have no intention of lying to you like this. i can say that i love you over and over until my lips bleed, but that won't change a thing in your mind, will it?"
"no. i suppose not." you frown and she cups your cheek.
"then let me prove it to you. i hope you know those words were written in a... particularly troubling time for me. they brought me comfort... to see that i have you. to think she would be happy for us."
she slides into bed with you, bringing you closer to her chest and wiping your tears. "you're not a replacement. you're my wife. you are the most important person in my life at all times." her lips press into your forehead as you snuggle into her.
"prove it." you mumble, half-teasingly, but you yelp when she rolls you over, looming over you instead. "arle-"
"peruere. that's my name, and i am aware you know, so say it."
"peruere." you breathe out softly and she sighs, looking troubled.
"i haven't heard that name in ages. it brings me... discomfort, but coming from you, it's almost like it means something loving again." she hums, leaning down to kiss your throat. "let me show you how much you mean to me." she offers.
you smile up at her, nodding as she kisses away your tears and slowly descends your body, taking gentle care of you for the night.
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leah-lover · 19 hours
Text
Girlfriend duties. Alexia putellas x reader.
Angst, smut, fluff.
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90 minutes and not a single successful shot from you. You were beyond devastated when the ref blew her whistle . Another olympic gold escaping through your grasp. Another lost opportunity at redeeming your country. Another moment of weakness. Another loss.
The stadium erupted at the final blow but at the moment you couldn't hear anything. You just sat down, your head in your hands, and felt nothing. Nothing was going through your head for a few seconds. Then you remember your girls. Most of your teammates were young. This was their second consecutive major loss. You got up quickly, collected yourself and went straight to the first person to console them. You made the round of everybody. You told them how proud you were of them, how good of a job they did throughout the Olympics , and how lucky you were to play with them in the final. Your regard to your own feelings was invisible. You were the captain, it's your duty to help them.
After the team huddle, you made the round of the pitch and met every fan you could. You signed autographs, took pictures, and spent as much time as you could before getting your silver medals.
As expected the winning team clapped for you as you went to get your medals. What hurt you the most about the loss was how better the Spanish team was than you. They were on a different level than you for the whole 90 minutes.
While walking to get your medals, you kept eye contact with the Spanish captain of the night for a little too long. All you wanted was the comfort of her arms. You wanted to cry in her chest, you wanted her to tell you how good you are, you wanted her to talk Spanish to you, to south you, to make love to you, but you couldn't be that selfish. Tonight was her night.. She deserved to celebrate her hard fought win along with you Barca teammates.
It was like she knew your exact thoughts. The look on her face was enough to give you the confidence to wake up those stairs, get your medals and help your team heal.
You didn't stick around to see them get their medals. Instead you followed as a crying teammate to the locker room. After consoling her more, you showered and picked up your phone.
“ I need to see you meet me in the hall please.” texted alexia. Once you saw her name you smiled. You didn't want to ruin her fun so you hesitated in responding. “ please mi alma.”
“ okay.” you responded, dropped your phone and headed to the hall.
The music was getting louder as you approached the Spanish locker room. You stood, your head against the wall,your eyes closed, waiting for alexia. You didn't hear her come near you, you just felt her arms pull you in for a huge. Your head on her shoulder, you didn't dare to open your eyes.
“ mi niña estoy orgulloso de ella.” she whispered kissing you temple.
“ I am not sure there is anything to be proud of.” you respond. she then brings your head in front of her so she can look you in your eyes.
“ don't you ever say that again. You're an olympic medalist now. Plus I saw the way you handled your girls. You were so good to them mi amor.” she added, her thumbs rubbing your cheeks.
“ don't let me ruin your night go celebrate with the girls and tell aitana, ona and the others congrats.”
“ I want to celebrate with you.”
“ We can do that once we are back in Spain, baby. We can't now.”
“ Come with me, we can travel together back to barcelona.”
“ You are kidding right? Baby they don't know about us.”
“ They are our family. It's fine if they knew. I want to be with you.”
The Spanish plane was going to land in Barcelona because they want to do the press there, so going with them would be an easy flight to your home, back to your bed and in ale's comfort. You hesitated before saying yes due to the awkwardness of the situation but you knew that while alexia was there she would be the only one who got your attention.
“ hola bebita, nice of you to join us.” said aitana as soon as she saw you enter their locker room your hand intertwined with alexia’s.
“ merda les capitanes estan juntes al llit.” said ona.
“ no es permeten preguntes de moment. celebrem-nos en pau.” said alexia shutting down the confused faces.
The Spanish girls lit up your mood even though half the time you were texting your teammates. Once you were in the bus, you and alexia sat at the front where no one was. You put your head on her shoulder and she put her hand on your thigh. She kept rubbing her hand along the length of your thigh the whole journey back to the hotel. Once you got to her room and shut the door behind you, you whispered in her ear. “ mommy, i need you.'' She then picked you up, put you down on the bed and proceeded to strip you. She knew that you wanted her too much so she didn't bother to tease you. She just kissed you all over. She kissed your lips, your neck; your chest, your stomach until she arrived at your inner thighs. She spread your legs slowly, and teased your entrance a little before putting two fingers inside you. You arch at her action and release a small moan. While thrusting into you she whispered in your ear how proud she was of you, how good you were for her, and how much she loves you.
“mi amor eres tan bueno para mí. que buena niña." She whispered again before speeding up. Once she realized how close you were she started kissing the sensitive spot on your neck unleashing filthy sounds from you. You came without her permission which she doesn't like. You thought that she would punish you for it. Instead she put her fingers full of your juices in your mouth and said, “límpialos por mí.” After you cleaned them, she got up, handed you water and said, “ I am gonna prepare a bath for us then we are gonna go down and celebrate with the girls okay?.”
“ I love you so much. You are perfect. ” you say to her.
“ I am just doing my girlfriend duties.”
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worldofkuro · 3 days
Text
Painted Smile
Painted Smile VI
<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->
Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: It's a long chapter because it's Alastor's Point of View from the beginning until the end of Chapter IV. There is dark theme here, like racism, blood, dark thoughts. But I guess you know about it, it is about Alastor's story ! Please enjoy and tell me your thoughts, if you like having a long chapter about Alastor's thoughts.
“ Do you promise to be a good boy bébé?”
Alastor smiled at his mother and nodded. He would always be good for his mother, even if he didn’t like what he was supposed to do. Today, his mother had invited an old friend of hers, someone she used to know before she married his father, and this woman would bring her child with her, hoping that they could play together. His mother was so excited.
He didn’t care about them, but if his mother was happy, he'd put on a show.
He went into his bedroom to be sure everything was clean, but mostly to be sure that his secrets were kept safe. He took his journal, where all of his thoughts were written down. He hid it under a pile of clothes, if his father were to fall upon it,  it would be a disaster and frankly, he didn’t want to get into another beating.
He lifted his head up as he heard noises downstairs. So the parasites have finally come. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled brightly. Easy. He tried different types of smiles before going downstairs quietly. He has learned not to make noises when he was walking, sometimes he could walk behind his fathers without him noticing. 
And there you were. He tilted his head as he saw you took a photo and stared at it. You didn’t even sense him, you weren’t paying attention to what was going on around you. Your life must be so easy.
“  Do you not know that it is rather rude to touch others' belongings?”
He stopped himself from chuckling as you jumped, surprised. Heh, too easy.
“And it is rude to come unannounced behind a lady!” 
A lady? His mother was a lady. Always proper, always smiling… You? You were… a naive, uninteresting girl so far. He did say to his mother that he would play nice… But he couldn’t help himself.
“ I see no lady.”
He wanted to laugh at your expression. How strange. You were giving him your reaction without faking it. In this house, everyone was faking it to make it out alive, even his Mother, faking a smile so his father could be “happy”. And when the emotion wasn't faked, it usually meant that problems were on their way. But you, you just expressed your expression out loud, without fearing it could put you in trouble. How strange. 
He turned his head toward his mother who introduced you both. He was ready to go shake your hand but you came toward him and kissed him on both cheeks. The only person who kissed him like this was his mother. Who did you think you were ? His cheeks flushed with anger but he contained himself,  not here, not in front of his mother… You wanted to play that game? Alright.
He waited for both of your mothers to go back in the kitchen before stepping closer to you, his face near yours. Hah, how you liked it when someone came too close toward you. He stared at your eyes, your eyes that seemed to say so many things, things he couldn’t comprehend, that he couldn’t grasp because he… he wasn't like you.
“ It’s rude to look at someone face this close!”
He almost coughed, you were the one who kissed him first but now HE was the one being rude? He easily made a lie saying he needed to be close to see. He saw your eyes relax and you almost seemed sorry. Were you watching him with pity? Oh no, he wouldn’t accept it. He’d prefer seeing you angry at him than watching him as if he was some kind of helpless kid who couldn’t fight for himself. 
“ But now that I have seen you up close I can clearly say… I see no lady.”
He smiled when he saw your angry face.
----
Your parents were really curious about him. He didn’t really want to talk with them but he put on his mask and talked about school and other boring stuff. He almost lost his calm when he felt you kicked him in the shin. He stared at you as you were beaming with pride and joy because you were now the centre of attention. How naively cute.
His mother always told him to never hit a girl but… If it was an accident ? And you were the one to begin this war. He kicked you on the same spot you had kicked him. His smile widened when he saw you spilled your drink on the table. You were panicking so much and you had every reason to be.. if his father were to be here. He stared at you, drinking.  You were a living experiment with your emotions shown so easily. You were still naive… But a tiny bit interesting. 
He stood up from his chair when his mother invited you both to play outside. He walked in front of you but he was looking at your shadows which made it so easy to dodge your so-called kick. He looked at you with a beaming smile when he spotted your face. You seemed so surprised.. and a bit impressed.
“ So unladylike.”
He watched you as you stuck your tongue to him, he was sure you were thinking he couldn’t see you. How funny. He let you go toward the swing and watched you as you went higher and higher with each swing. He walked toward you as you closed your eyes and arched your back toward the ground. You seemed so light, like you could just fly at any moment. Now he was curious.
“Jump.”
You didn’t seem keen on jumping, saying things like you could hurt yourself or dirtying your dress. He kept his smile but felt kind of disappointed. Oh well, maybe you weren’t interested. 
Or maybe you were!
He stared at you as you jumped when the swing was in its highest spot. He opened his mouth as he saw you, almost floating in the air, you seemed so free, so alive, so colourful, so… out of reach. He wanted to drag you down in hell with him. In his personal hell. In his life. Why were you so happy and he was–
“ Wow! Did you see that Alastor ! I did it ! Haha ! That was super amazing !”  you laughed. He looked at you, you were looking at him like you wanted him to be proud of you. You were beaming, you were… cute. You just jumped off a swing because he dared you to do it and you did it. No question asked. Most of the people would have said they didn’t want to play with him and left. But you stayed. Strange…
He tried to suppress his laugh when you dared him to climb the tree. So easy. Once he climbed it he watched you. Now you were the one on the floor while he was near the sky. He looked at you as you watched him, impressed. It made him feel something so he decided to tease you once again.
“ I should thank you, now that I’m here, I don’t have to see your face.”
“ My face is pretty !”
Yes, it was.
“ Pretty ugly.”
“ Alastor !”
You played all afternoon, you always had another game to play, another riddle to solve. Your mind was always thinking about something new… But then you put your hand on his eyes and said that you had a great time with him. What kind of manipulative game was that? Saying a secret, trusting the other person to hold their tongue and never breathe a word of what you just said? How could you be so naive ? Life wasn’t fair. Sharing secrets would make you weak. Never reveal your scars, your secrets or your emotions. 
He asked for another game, not wanting to see your face. Did you know that he could see everything in your eyes? Was that why you said your secret with a hand in front of his eyes, so he couldn’t see if you were in pain or happy? 
He looked at you as you proposed  a game of hide and seek. How cute. He would find you. He was a master of “hunting”. He closed his eyes and counted until fifty. He could already hear where you were going as you ran toward the forest. He smiled as he made you think he didn’t know where you were, he waited some time so you could be so sure of yourself you wouldn’t see him come.
And there you were.
“ Found you.”
You ran.
But what shocked him even further was that he couldn’t catch you. It was like you were flying through the grass, you weren’t watching where you were putting your feet while he was watching the floor, dodging the puddle of mudd, jumping over the branches that would have made him fall. He watched as you ran, he wanted to catch you. He didn’t know why, maybe to prove something to himself. 
It seemed like it was time to say goodbye, he didn’t even see the time passing which was surprising, he always knew what time it was, knowing when his father would come back. You came toward him, you seemed sad.
“ Well.. Goodbye…”
Were you really sad ? How cute. But if it was the last time that he saw you, he would rather see you smile.. And , well , he wasn’t going to see you again right? He could tell you a secret. He covered your eyes.
“ I had fun and… you are pretty.” 
He went to his mother as he watched you and your family leaving his house. When he went back home, his mother was watching him with an expectant smile. He tilted his hand, smiling at her, she seemed to have had a great afternoon, he was relieved.
“ Did you have a great time Alastor?”
He froze for a second. Did he? He stared at his hand, the hand that didn’t manage to catch you. Well, you were like a fresh breeze. Needed but short. He would have to live once again without feeling it.
“ Yes, I had a great time.”
—----
Alastor was doing his homework in the kitchen while his mother was cooking. Most of the time, his Father was away all week because he worked far from home, so his boss would give him a place to stay to avoid doing long travel. Which meant, when it was the weekend, his Father would do nothing but lay around in the house and if he had a bad week, well.. Let’s just say that his body remembered those days.
There, done! 
He stood up from his chair, now that his homeworks was done, he could go and listen to his radio. He went to his bedroom and sat on his desk, listening to the radio until he heard noises downstairs. He didn’t remember his Mother telling him that they would have guests over… And then he heard them. Your footsteps. What was that feeling? His heart was beating louder as your footsteps were getting closer and closer.
He smirked when he heard his door open, did you really think you were being quiet ? He stayed silent waiting to feel you closer to him, and once he saw your shadow, he opened his mouth.
“ How rude, entering a boy’s bedroom without permission.”
“ I see no boy.”
He smiled as he approached his face towards yours making you blush. He didn’t know why, but he was… content seeing you in front of him with all of your emotions written across your face. 
But he didn’t like this thought.
The fact that just your presence could make him feel things. You didn’t have the rights. That would mean that you had the upper hand on him, playing with him. No, you couldn’t know.
“ Why are you here?”
And there it was. You looked like a kicked puppy. He didn’t like it. He clearly didn’t like it. You were cute like this but he’d rather see you smiling even if he didn’t like what it made him feel. He suppressed his need to sigh at your face. You stuck your tongue at him, trying to hide the fact that he hurted you. You really were the cutest. Didn’t you see that he already saw your heartbroken expression? Seems like he needed to make things right. He touched your shoulder but you didn’t move. You were such an obstinate brat. He really was trying to be nice ! He sighed. Well… 
He covered your eyes, smiling when he saw you flinching and spoke.
“ I didn’t expect…to be content to see you today.”
Your smile was really blinding. He wondered if you were aware of it? How could you smile so easily without fearing that you showed too much emotion? How could you trust him not to use the information you just told him with your smile: You liked being with him. 
He was almost worried for your future. He looked at your hands as you raised it toward his face, clearly trying to cover his eyes. You really liked to touch him, didn’t you? He helped you as he took your hand and placed it in front of his eyes. Now what?
“ I wanted to see you too.” you confessed.
So that’s what it was.
He wanted to see you too.
How could you speak so freely? He took your hands off him and stared at you, maybe if he stared long enough in your eyes, he could get an answer. The only answer he got? He didn’t flinch when you kissed his cheeks not because he was scared but because didn’t feel the need to push you away. How strange…
He smirked as you told him about making him food. So you asked about him. You didn’t forget about him. Interesting..
He tilted his head as you ordered him to dance. He could dance, his Mother had teached him, he couldn’t wait but show you. He gave you a big smile and held his hand toward you but you went off script. You took his hand and just started to jump around, holding his hand. You encouraged him to do just like you but he was so confused. Was that dancing ? Maybe it was your way of dancing… Well, it was chaotically cute.. But let him show you how it’s done.
He took your hands and twirled you just like his Mother taught him. You seemed impressed once again, he really liked that. He didn’t know why but he wanted you to keep on watching him like this. You let go of his hand and walked toward his bed before throwing his pillow in his face. He didn’t expect it. He stared at your laughing face. You thought you were funny huh?
He took the pillow and ran toward you, pinning you on the floor and hitting you softly with his pillow. “ Rule number one, never drop your guard.” He hitted you with his pillow. “ Rule number two, I’m the strongest here.” he hitted you once again. “ Rule number three, give up.” He smiled as he watched you trying to sit up. You were really trying to get away ? He held the pillow above his head and then he saw it.
Your gaze fell on a bruise from his father. Ah, were you going to ask questions? What excuses should he invent this time? He tried to help his mother but failed? No, it was impossible. As he was swimming through his thoughts you took his hand, placed it on your eyes and  began to talk. You talked and talked and talked, you really couldn’t stop huh?
But he listened.
To every word.
He stood up and helped you when he heard his mother calling you downstairs. He followed you to the sofa and sat down, listening to your mothers talking. Seemed like you weren’t as patient as him, he could already see boredom settling on your face. But then you ran off the living room saying stuff about a kitty. He smiled at the ladies and went outstairs, staring at you and the cat. This bloody cat who was always hissing at him…
Maybe if he stopped affraying it, the cat would calm down? Huh…
He came closer and as expected the cat began to hiss but then it hurted you. He stared at your bleeding hand and took it in his. You were trying so hard not to cry. Why? You’ve been showing him every single of your emotions since you have met, why would you hide something that he wanted to see? Why did you not want to share yourself with him? He didn’t remember the last time he or his Mother cried. What would you look like? Without even being aware he dug his nails in your cut making you scream. He stared at you, you didn’t seem angry at him, but confused.  
“ Don’t be ashamed, you can cry. I… I think I want you to cry.” Now he was the one being confused.  Why would he want to see you cry? Because that means you trusted him enough to show yourself at your weakest. You began to cry, louder than necessary for such a little cut. But he let you. You were crying in front of him without feeling ashamed. You trusted him not to hurt you even more. You were an open book for him, a book he wanted to keep on reading.
But he’d rather see you smile.
He opened his mouth, ready to make a joke but he froze once he heard his voice.
“Alastor.”
He kept you against him. He remembered his Father hitting him because he was crying, he needed to hide your tears from his Father. He didn’t deserve to see you in that state. He didn’t trust his Father and neither should you.
“ Why is this chick crying ? For God’s sake, what have you done boy?”
“ The cat scratched her.”
“ This stupid cat… I’ll shoot it next time.”
He stared as the man went inside the house. It was going to be a hard night… He didn’t want to explain everything to you about his Father, you didn’t need to know. All you needed to know was how to be safe from this man. He covered your eyes with his hand.
“ Never cry in front of this man.”
He didn’t let go of you until you nodded. Then he took you to his Mother so she could clean your cut. Better safe than sorry.
Before leaving you told him about the pizza that you made with your Mother. He sneaked with you to the kitchen, he knew that his Father would eat all of the food you made so he wanted to share it with you before it could be stolen from him.  You were so eager for his feedback, he almost wanted to say it tasted bad but after what he did to your hand he decided to be honest and made the promise to cook you something next time. You beamed and kissed him on both cheeks before leaving with your Mother.
—--
He was so excited.
His Mother had told him that you would have a sleep over while his Father wasn’t home. It was perfect! He also had another game he wanted to play with you. His Mother had bought him a microphone thanks to his good grades at school. He wanted to do a radio broadcast with you. He wanted to share his dream with you just like you shared your emotions with him. He was in his bedroom, re-reading his note to be sure that everything was perfect. He asked his mother to do his hair like adults, so now his hair was slicked back. He looked at himself in the mirror. That would do. 
“ Can I come in yet?” you asked, outside Alastor’s bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.
His grin got even bigger. He opened his bedroom door and stared at your outfit. You were cute, as always. You kissed him on both cheeks, like usual and he tugged you inside his now radio booth! 
“ Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !” He said with glee as he shoved you on a chair. “ Welcome New Orleans to Alastor’s podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today I’m thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !” he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You gave him a big smile and began to introduce yourself even saying he was the best radio host of all New Orleans. He couldn’t help giggling, you were playing your part perfectly. Maybe when he would have had his own radio station he would invite you as a very special guest. 
He kept talking as you read the notes he had just given you, he kind of expected you to fumble but once again you surprised him. You were natural, talking about what was written on his notes but then you went off script and made him laugh. You were amazing.
He kept doing his part as the radio host, explaining about why your sleepover has to be delayed to this day. You didn’t ask much more information but was happy he punched the boy who badmouthed his mother. Calling her such a disgusting word…
You both kept playing, sometimes he would forget about your presence, but when he noticed that his voice was the only thing he could hear he would turn toward you, ordering you to talk. You had a pretty voice, why not use it?
Well, he didn’t expect you to raise your voice against him when he said he couldn’t understand people liking sweet things. You were so convinced that there was something wrong with him for not liking sweets. Well, shouldn’t you feel appreciated ? You were the sweetest thing he ever laid his eyes upon and he kept you by his side, didn’t he? He closed his eyes still smiling as you kept blablating with his Mother’s laugh echoing in his bedroom. He liked it. He really liked this moment, if he could, he would like to record this moment so he could play it again and again.
After his Mother’s departure he went toward the letter he wrote with questions for you. You thought the game was over? Think again.
He asked you many questions, well of course the questions weren’t from him, but from the audience ! You answered to all of them honestly and there came the last one. He took the letter and read it to you.
“ And now, our last question before our guest’s performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?”
He could see your answer in your eyes before you even opened your mouth. He already knew what you were about to say. He already knew. But he was waiting eagerly so you could say those words he desperately needed to hear. Say it, say it, say it…
“ He is the best!”
Yes, and so were you.
And you needed to know it.
He tugged you downstairs saying you needed to sing or the broadcast couldn’t end. He sat in front of the piano as you were flustered with his microphone in your hands.  He smiled at you and then closed his eyes. He wanted you to feel powerful. But first, he needed you to be less insecure about your abilities. So the first lesson would be: singing.
And sing you did. When you stopped being a coward and really sang like the singer that you were, he couldn't help but open his eyes to admire you. Even if some of the notes weren’t the best, you were giving it your all. You were giving him all of you at that moment. 
He couldn’t be more proud.
You were the best.
He couldn’t stop himself from crushing you against him as he said goodbye to your audience. Everything was perfect, you were here, his mother too and there were smiles on every lips. 
—--
“ We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.” you said with a shy smile, holding a plushie. He was behind you, waiting for his Mother's command. Truthfully, he didn’t want you to go to sleep with his Mother right away. He still had other games he would like to play with you. As soon as his Mother accepted, you ran into his bedroom with him following you. You were on his bed with this…
“ What is it ?”
“ Well, first of all, it’s a He and he is a deer.”
He listened to your story. So you didn’t know how to swim, he would have to train you. You shouldn’t have so many weaknesses, it was dangerous. But then you started talking about how your deer plushie was protecting you. What were you saying, were you so tired that thinking was too difficult for you?
“ So, a deer saved your life from drowning…”
“ Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!” you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. “ Do you want to try it?” 
Did he want to try to squeeze a plushie? Not really. Not at all.
“ How can he protect you?”
You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. “ Now, squeeze him !” 
Once again , you were looking at him with those eyes he couldn’t refuse anything. He suppressed a sigh and squeezed the deer against him and closed his eyes. It has your scent. He could feel himself relax. Yeah… It felt nice. If he were to hug you like this, would you also be this soft?  He was getting taller than you, have you noticed it? Maybe one day, he would be able to hug you just like this plushie? Would you feel safe in his arms? Or would you try to run away?
“ Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?”
Our.
He opened his eyes, staring right in your soul. Ah, you were panicking. Did you think he didn’t like that you use “ our” instead of “ his” ? You were so cute! 
“ I’d like that.” he whispered with a soft smile. “ Our first guest.”
You both laid on his bed, he still held the plushie against him. He really needed to find him a name, names are important. He listened to you blablating about how he was supposed to take care of the deer. It looked like a fawn for him but whatever.
“ Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?” he asked, with no trace of fatigue on his face, he was used to not sleeping, because of nightmares or just because he needed to be aware of what his father’s doing in the house. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow.
“ Well, because you hold Mister Deer, it’s your job to protect me now.” 
It was his job to protect you..? He would do it. He would protect your smile, he would protect your dazzling eyes that seemed to never lose their sparkes.
“ … So, do I need to hug you?”
“ M-maybe but…Do you want to …?”
Does he want to?
He covered your eyes with his hand. Within the next five minutes you were asleep, he took off his hand and stared at your face.
 Did he want to hug you? 
He looked at the fawn in his arms. You were cuter than your plushie, so that made you huggable. He touched your cheeks with his finger but you didn’t move. He nudged you with his feet but you stayed asleep. You must be feeling very safe to sleep like this. He would awake at any noise in the house. 
Did he want to hug you? 
He wasn’t touching you but he could feel your body warm from here. Were you too hot? Did he need to take off the blanket ? But maybe you liked being warm? You were so problematic, did you know that? He stared at the ceiling, he knew he wasn’t going to fall asleep soon… 
Did he want to hug you?
He put the fawn between his body and yours, whispering in your ear. He hoped you would stay asleep, he didn’t want anyone to witness what he was going to say.
Did he want to hug you?
“ Yes, if you hug me back.”
—-----
He was blushing as his Mother was asking him if he slept well. She had a teasing glint in her eyes, she must have seen! When he woke up, he had you in his arms. He quietly left the bed, leaving the fawn with you. 
“ Alastor, this  was a very cute scene!” 
He didn’t care if this was cute, it was embarrassing ! He hid his face in his Mother dress. Could she just forget about it? 
“ Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.” she kissed the top of his head with a beaming smile. He smiled at her, his mother seemed happier since she found your mother back.  He liked it. He decided to go back to his room to see if you awakened but what was surprising was that he saw you with his microphone, talking with the fawn. How could the fawn protect you, it looked like you were the one protecting it with the way you were holding it against you. You were so strange.
“ I knew you would play with it.” you blinked at him. He looked at your bed hair and couldn’t help but smile. You looked silly like this ! “ Eamon told me you were using the microphone.” You tilted your head.
“ Who ?”
“ Our deer. He needs a name, don’t you think?” he stroked your plushie’s head while mumbling “ even if he looks more like a fawn than a deer…” 
“ He is a deer ! I’m sure you never saw one !” you huffed as you squeezed Eamon against your chest. 
“ Actually, I did when Father took me hunting.” he tilted his head as he saw your horrified face. Why did you take a step back?
“ You killed a deer ?”
“ No, I saw one. And most of them have brown fur, not like ours who have a white one.”  Why did you seem so confused?
“ But…  Why is your father taking you with him.. to hunt..?” you asked, confused.
To kill of course. 
But he couldn’t tell you that. His father wanted him to be a man, and man went hunting.  His father showed him how to kill while threatening him.
If you don’t want to end up like this, shut your trap.
When he first went hunting , he was terrified but now, he would just stare at the dead animal wondering if he will be the target next time. So far, he was alive. How lucky ! But once again, he couldn’t tell you that, could he? Would you be worried for him? 
“ It’s not for little girls, that’s for sure. You wouldn’t bear it.” He teased you.
“ Hey! I saw things too, I’m not a little girl!”
Did you? Were you like him? Did you see things that made you reconsider your morals? Did you see things that made you throw up? Did you see things that made you want to run away and never look back. Did you–
“ My father tried to eat my mother one day.”
Now, that was horrifying.
—--
You went downstairs to eat breakfast as he went to the bathroom to wash up. He stared at his body. The bruises were no longer on his body, that was nice. He went to the kitchen and sat next to you. Strange, you were looking at him like you knew something that he didn’t. Did his Mother tell you what happened ? No, she wouldn’t. So why–
“ Next time, we should have a sleepover at my house ! I could show you my room !” you smiled excitedly.
He tensed. He would love to go to your place, being able to see your house. How did you decorate your room? But he couldn’t leave his Mother alone with his Father. What if he decided to come back drunk and beat his mother while he was enjoying himself, free of worries, at your place. No, he couldn’t. He looked at you and there was the kicked puppy stare… 
“ I… I don’t like leaving my mother alone at home.”
“ But we will choose a day where your father is home!” you nudged him, trying to coat him to come with you at your house. “ Please Alastor… I really want you to come.” you pleaded as you held his forearms with your small hands. “ You don’t want to..?”
I want to.
He bit his lips, he wanted but he couldn’t. Wasn’t it the meaning of his life? Wanting without having the power to be able to do what he wanted. Fortunately, his Mother had sensed his discomfort and she offered to come with him for your next sleepover.
He relaxed. Yes, like this, it would be perfect.
The day went on as you both “gossiped” as his Mother called it. But unfortunately, it was time for you to leave. You asked Eamon to take care of him and then you asked him to take care of Eamon.  You were cute but as asked, he would take care of your Fawn.
—-------
He was in the forest with his Father, holding a rifle. It was a familiar feeling to hold the weapon in his little hand. He was used to it now. He was walking, alongside his father who was making so much noise, how could they hunt like this?
“ Here, be a useful brat, shoot it.”
He shot the partridges which fell down near him. Should he be afraid of himself ? He couldn’t feel anything as he watched the life leaving the animal’s eyes. It was almost boring, he was stronger so he won. It was that easy.
Would you be scared of him?
 He stopped himself. You were the first real friend he has ever made. If you were to see him like this, would you be afraid of him? Would you let him explain? He turned his head toward his father as the man pointed to a deer not too far. He could shoot it. It would be easy.
But then he saw your face. He knew this deer wasn’t the one who saved you but this time, for you, he would not kill it. He knew you wouldn’t forgive him.
“Alastor, shoot it..!” 
He just stared at the beautiful beast not too far from him. He stared into its eyes as the animal saw him before running off. How he envied the animal right now…
He heard his Father before feeling the punch in his face.
Ah, today it was going to be harder than usual.
“ You brat!” 
A kick in his stomach.
He wondered if you were sleeping right now? You always fell asleep so easily, he was almost envious. Maybe next time, he’ll ask you how you manage to find the sweet relief of falling asleep.
“ How useless!” 
Another kick in his stomach.
Ah, his Mother was going to be so sad once she saw him. Maybe his Father would let him wash himself up in the water? 
“ You nigga !”
Aand there it was. That disgusting word. He felt his Father grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him toward their home. His Father threw him inside his bedroom, Alastor’s head hitting the wall. 
Seemed like his mother was out buying groceries. Good, she wouldn’t have to see that. He stared at his Father, smiling. The man took off his belt and began to hit him on his back, forcing him to lay on his belly. Alastor stared in front of him and saw Eamon, staring back at him. He didn’t know why, but he moved. He stood up as his Father shouted at him to stay in his place. He took the plushie against him, keeping his back toward his Father but he stayed standing. 
His father hit him on his back with his belt once again but Alastor didn’t fall on the ground. He crushed the plushie against him as he closed his eyes. 
It was going to be over soon. He would see you this weekend, you would play together, you would show him your neighbourhood, you would give him something sweet to eat.
He opened his eyes and saw with sadness that Eamond was dirty with his own blood. He touched his nose, oh yes, his father did punch him in the forest. Aah, he needed to clean it before you came back.
His back felt wet and stinky. Was he sweating that much? Normally he could handle it better? He sniffed.
Ah, blood.
He didn’t remember when he passed out but when he woke up, Eamon was still in his arms.
“ ça va aller mon bébé, regarde Maman.” 
He looked at his Mother, her smile wobbling. He just closed his eyes and squeezed Eamon, the plushie didn’t have your scent anymore, but it has his blood’s. 
—---
He didn’t know why, but each week his Father would hit him with his belt on his torso or back even when his Mother was begging for him to stop. He had to go to school with bandages all over his body but his face. But he never cried, nor asked his Father to stop. He would just think that soon, you would come and the Hell he was living would come to a pause. Each time, he was thinking.
Next week.
But you never came. 
It’s been almost a month. Did something happen to you? Were you sick? Maybe he could ask his Mother to see if you were okay? He was on his bed, clinging to Eamon, his back was hurting so much he almost wanted to bite off his hand from the pain.
But no, he just stared in the void, losing his smile. And then, a thought struck him.  
Was killing a human any different than an animal?
His eyes widened, but before he could deepen his thoughts on the subject, he heard footsteps downstairs. Yours footsteps. It was you. He was sure of it. He heard the door smashed open, well, weren’t you full of energy today?
“ So unladylike. I could recognize your footsteps anywhere.”
He frowned when he didn’t hear any witty come back from you. Well? 
“ I.. I made your favorite dish..” you whispered, your voice trembling with each word as you tried to speak out loud.Why did you sound like that? “ Can… Can I see you?”
You wanted to see his pathetic self right now? You really had a bad timing, you’ll have to work on it, really.
“ No.”
“ Please…” you begged, it sounded like you were crying, why were you crying?. “ I was so worried… My father told me what happened–” 
“ What did he tell you?” His voice was colder than usual. He didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want anyone to know.
“ That… That you went hunting with your dad and–” you approached the bed and flinched when you felt his hand covering your eyes. So you were crying, he thought. He could feel your tears wetting the palms of his hands. “ Because of your father you- you have been hurt.” you cried, holding his wrist with one of your hands. “Alastor, I was so scared..!”
Me too, I was so scared.
“ Keep your eyes closed.”
He couldn't help himself. He hugged you. You were finally here. Hell was over for some time.  He wanted to see you so bad. He wanted to see you…
“Yes, I wanted to see you.”
“ Are you hurting?”
“ No. Remember Rules number two: I’m the strongest here.”
He smiled as he heard you laugh. Yes, everything would turn out nicely. He just had to be more careful. To be more observant. He would be the strongest for you. You’ll never have to worry for him to the point of crying. Nobody would keep your friendship from you. He sighed in relief, you were here…
“ I want to see your face.”
Mhn.. Well, as long as it is just his face. He stepped back and smiled at you. You didn’t have to worry.
“ Be my guest.”
 His smile widened when he saw your confused face. You must have thought he would have injuries on his face heh? 
“ You said you wanted to see my face, not my injuries.” he smiled cunningly at you while holding Eamon against his chest. 
“ Why do our deer have pink…red spots on him?” you tilted your head, stroking its fur.
Ah, right. His Mother had tried but she couldn’t wash all the blood he had lost on the fawn each week. Were you going to be upset ? He didn’t protect your fawn even though he told you he would take care of it. Were you going to be disappointed in him?
“ I’m sorry. I bled on him.”
He watched as you sat next to him and gently kissed his cheeks, resting your lips against his skin. Did you know it was the spot his father had punched weeks prior ? Of course, you wouldn’t know. He only could feel your lips, the pain in his back wasn’t there anymore. He squeezed your hand. He missed you… He missed this…
“ I missed you.” you both said.
He smiled softly, as you began to explain all the week he has missed. He felt his heart soared when you explained how you had made a scene so you could come and see him. He had to tease you, because if not, he felt like he would explode with happiness. You have missed him, his presence was something you wanted, he was important for you.
Unfortunately, you had to go.
Well, Hell is forever, right?
He went downstairs, keeping his hand around yours. You seemed so worried. He looked at you after your mother asked about his well being. Why were you so quiet ? 
“ I promise, I’ll see you soon.”
“ You promise? How do I know if you are going to be sick, or injured once again?”
Oh that’s why.
You were so cute. Unfortunately, he couldn’t promise to never be injured again, he would be breaking his promise tonight. What kind of promise could he conjure that would make you both ties to each other forever.
“ Let’s make a deal.”
He approached his face close to yours and kissed your forehead. You blushed and he couldn’t feel bad about it, red suited you.
“ You always kiss me good morning, so now, I’ll kiss you goodbye. Now, you owe me a good morning kiss.” he smiled at you teasingly as he took a step back. “ Do we have a deal?”
Please, say yes.
“ Deal.”
He smiled, now he knew that even though he would suffer because of his father, you would always come back to him, healing him without being aware of it. You were his special.. Something. You were the one painting a true smile on his lips. You were his special person.
Tag List: lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @boogiemansbitch @sodavizz @tessemerick @slytherin4ever
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joelmillerisapunk · 22 hours
Text
Dirty Daddy
Dbf/daddy!Joel x f!reader
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Wordcount: 2,489
Summary: Congratulations, you've just earned yourself a daddy, albeit not for being a good girl.
Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, light consensual choking, light slapping, oral receiving m!&f!, fingering, implied age gap, mentions of the names 'slut, brat, babygirl, sweetheart, good girl, and daddy', Joel's all greasy and sweaty.
Notes: it was this picture that inspired this along with part of a request I received that I'm writing a different daddy!fic for. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider
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Joel groans as he tightens a bolt on his truck, sweat drips down his forehead and mixes with the dirt and grease that cover his face and hands. He's been working on this truck for hours, ever since it broke down on him during a job, his last job of the day. He could be home relaxing. Instead, he's here. Luckily for him, his buddy, your dad offered him the use of his garage to work on it, and Joel gladly accepted. It wasn't often that he got the chance to work on his baby, and he wasn't going to let a little thing like a broken engine get in his way.
But as he stands up and stretches his aching back, he can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It isn't just the truck that’s been giving him trouble - it’s you, who's been teasing him mercilessly since he arrived. Wearing those skimpy clothes, that short fucking skirt, that leaves little to the imagination, bending over in front of him and "accidentally" brushing up against him as you walk by. Joel's been trying to ignore you, but it's getting harder and harder to do so.
As if on cue, you walk into the garage with a smirk on your face. "Hey Joel, need any help?" You ask, leaning over the open hood, letting your cleavage do most of the talking.
Joel grits his teeth as he looks up straight at your breasts and then quickly back down to the engine. "No, I got it.” he says as he looks up once more only to see you pouting, but Joel can see the spark in your eye. You're enjoying this, you fucking minx.
"Come on, Joel. I'm just trying to help." You reach up to adjust yourself on the hood of the truck, giving him a clearer view of your breasts that are now pretty much popping out of your top. You catch his gaze and smirk, knowing exactly what you're doing to him. You hop down and start touching his arm, “cmon, I can help, I'll hold the flashlight or something.”
Joel snaps, dropping the tool he's holding, and pushes you roughly against the nearest free wall. His grip is tight around your arms despite being all greased up from his truck. "I know what you're doin'," he growls, "And it ain't gonna work."
You can see the fire in his eyes, and you know you've pushed him too far. But instead of backing down, you challenge him. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Joel's eyes narrow, and you can see the tension building in his muscles. "I'm warnin’ you," he says, his voice gets deeper and quieter. "Stop, or you're gonna get a lot more than you bargained for."
"Is that a promise?" you ask.
Joel's eyes go dark, and he grabs your face roughly, his dirty fingers grasping into the hollows of your cheeks, pulling you close, leaving his musky, grimy scent on you. "You have no idea what you're gettin’ yourself into, do ya?” Joel's grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your face. "You think you're being clever, huh? Lemme tell ya something, sweetheart. You're playin with fire, and you're gonna get burned."
You can feel the heat radiating off of Joel's body, and you know he's serious. But instead of being afraid, you're turned on. You've never seen this side of Joel before, and you can't help but feel yourself getting wet.
Without warning, Joel grabs you by the waist and pins you harder against the wall as he grinds himself against you, his hardness pressing into your core. "This whatcha want babygirl?" His lips brush against your ear. "You've been teasin' me all day, I think it's my turn to have a little fun now."
You moan as Joel's hands roam over your body, roughly groping your breasts and ass, leaving dark stains across your clothes. You can feel his cock straining against his pants, and you can't wait to feel him inside of you.
"Please," you whimper, "I need it."
Joel smirks as he pulls away from you. "Beggin already?" He says, 'That ain’t like you."
He reaches down and unzips his pants, pulling out his long, hard cock and starts to stroke it. "On your knees," he commands.
You don't hesitate, sinking to your knees in front of him. You take his cock in your hand, stroking it gently as you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes. Joel's eyes darken as he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head towards his cock. "Open wide, and don't fuckin’ bite."
You comply, opening your mouth wide as Joel slides his cock inside. You moan as you feel him hit the back of your throat, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you suck him off.
Joel groans as he fucks your mouth, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into the very back of your throat. You can feel his cock swelling inside of you, every vein hitting your tongue.
"Such a good little slut, suckin my cock like a pro."
You moan around his cock, your pussy getting wetter with every thrust.
"M’gonna come baby, and you're gonna swallow every last drop."
You nod eagerly, your mouth still wrapped around his cock. Joel groans as he explodes inside of you, his hot seed filling your mouth as you swallow every last drop just like he said. He pulls out, his cock still hard as he looks down at you with a satisfied smirk. "Good girl, you earned that."
Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before he walks over and starts to clear off the workbench. He pushes aside tools and spare parts, making enough space for you. Once he's satisfied, he turns to you with a stern look in his eyes. "Get up here," he commands, patting the now-clear space on the workbench.
You don't hesitate, hopping up onto the bench and spreading your legs wide for him. Joel steps between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you closer to the edge. "You've been a brat all day, teasin' me and temptin me," his fingers dig into your skin.
Joel's gaze is intense as he looks at you. His eyes are filled with desire and a hint of something darker. He leans in closer, his breath is hot on your skin as he starts to kiss a trail down your body, his lips leave a burning sensation in their wake.
His hands roam over your body, roughly groping anything he can as he continues to kiss and nip at your skin. You can feel his facial hair scratching against your sensitive flesh, and it sends shivers down your spine.
When he reaches your thighs, Joel smirks and spreads your legs wider, exposing your wet and aching core to his gaze and no panties - you drive him crazy. "You've been teasin' me all day, s’only fair. I get to taste what I've been missin.” He looks up at you, his eyes filled with lust as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your pussy. Without warning, Joel starts to lick and suck at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he teases you. You moan loudly, your hips bucking up towards his mouth as you try to get closer to him.
Joel's fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place as his tongue delves deeper, exploring every inch of your pussy, sucking and licks at your wetness. Lapping it up like a thirsty dog. He continues to feast on your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of your wetness as you moan and writhe beneath him. Just as you feel yourself getting close to the edge, Joel pulls away, leaving you wanting and needy.
"Uh-uh I ain't done with ya."
You whimper in frustration, and your hips buck up towards him as you try to get him to continue. But Joel is in control, and he's not going to let you come that easily. He stands up and looks down at you. You can see the hardness of his cock that's been tucked back into his jeans, and you know he's just as turned on as you are.
Joel reaches down and helps you off the workbench, his grip on you is firm as he leads you towards the door of the garage. "We're gonna finish this in your bedroom.”
Your body is still tingling with desire as you follow him out of the garage and towards your house.
As you reach the door of your house, Joel turns to you with a serious look in his eyes. "We gotta be quiet, go make sure the coast is clear.”
You quickly and quietly make your way through the house, checking each room to make sure no one is around. When you reach your father's office, you see that he's deeply engrossed in his work, completely unaware of what's happening just a few feet away.
You give Joel a quick nod, signaling that the coast is clear. Joel grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs to your bedroom, his grip firm, and reassuring. When you reach your bedroom, Joel pushes you inside and closes the door behind you, locking it to ensure that no one will interrupt you.
Joel looks around your bedroom, his eyes taking in the familiar surroundings. He turns to you, "Take off your clothes," he commands.
You hesitate for a moment, your hands hovering over your shirt. But the look in Joel's eyes tells you that he's not in the mood for games. As you slip out of your shirt, Joel's eyes rake over your body, taking in the lacy bra that barely covers your breasts.
"Keep goin,"
As you slip out of your jeans, Joel's eyes follow the movement, taking in the curve of your hips and the softness of your thighs.
"Take it all off baby," he commands.
You comply, slipping out of your bra and panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him.
Joel undresses himself, his movements quick and efficient. He pulls off his shirt, revealing the hard muscles of his chest and arms. His jeans follow, revealing the long and hard cock that's been tucked away, waiting so patiently for you.
You can't help but stare as Joel undresses, your eyes taking in the dirt and grease that cover his body. He's been working on his truck all day, and the evidence is clear on his skin.
"Like whatcha see, babygirl?"
You nod, unable to speak as you take in the sight of him. Joel steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch your body. His fingers leave dark stains across your skin, the evidence of his work still present.
He lays you down on the bed, and his body hovers over yours. His hands roam over your body. His touch is rough, but there's a tenderness to it that drives you crazy.
He leans down to kiss you, his lips rough against yours. His tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch as he tastes you. You can taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of what he's done to you.
Joel's hand moves between your legs, his fingers exploring your throbbing clit. He teases you, his fingers circling your clit but never quite touching it. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up towards his hand.
"Please, Joel," you beg, "I need to come."
But Joel is relentless, continuing to tease you just like you did to him, as he watches you squirm beneath him. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your orgasm building deep inside of you.
“Joel,” you whine, “don't be an asshole, let me come.”
Joel chuckles and gives you a light but sobering smack to the cheek. “You don't get to be a little brat and get your way - Beg for it.”
"Fuck you-," you whimper, your voice trembling with need. "Please daddy.”
Joel's eyes blaze as he hears you call him Daddy. He increases the pressure on your clit, his fingers moving faster and harder as he brings you closer to the edge again, he can feel it. "You like that, babygirl?" his breath is hot as he leans close to your ear. "You like it when Daddy teases you?”
“Mmm, yes daddy yes. Feels s-so good.”
Joel can't hold back any longer. He positions himself between your legs, his cock pressing against your wet and aching core. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with lust and something darker. He growls as he thrusts his hips forward, burying himself deep inside of you.
You moan loudly as you feel him fill you up, your pussy stretching to accommodate his ever growing, ever hardening size. Joel starts to move, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into you. Each thrust is harder than the last, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
Joel's hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you. His fingers dig into your skin. You can feel his cock swelling inside of you, every vein hitting your sensitive flesh.
"You like it when Daddy fucks ya like the dirty little brat you are?"
You moan in response, your hips buck up to meet his thrusts. You can feel your orgasm building deep inside of you. “Want you to choke me daddy, please.”
Joel doesn't hesitate, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach. He grabs your hair, pulling your head back as he wraps his other hand around your throat, cutting off your airway just enough to make you feel lightheaded.
You moan as you feel his cock press against your entrance once again. He thrusts forward, filling you up completely. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounds into you.
You can feel your orgasm building once again, your body tensing up as you get closer and closer to the edge. "Not yet, babygirl, fuck - wanna come with ya.” Joel increases his pace. His thrusts become erratic as he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, your orgasm just on the edge.
"Come for me, baby," Joel commands.
Your moans are muffled and strained as you feel yourself fall over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You can feel your pussy clenching around Joel's cock, milking him for all he's worth.
Joel groans as he feels you come, his hips thrusting forward as he empties himself inside of you. He collapses beside you, his body spent and satisfied.
As he catches his breath, Joel looks at you with a satisfied smirk. "Next time you pull that shit, babygirl, I ain't gonna letcha come."
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ktgoodmorning · 1 day
Text
Can't do this anymore
Mapi Leon x reader
You and Mapi are best friends and roommates but there always seems to be something else between you
(I adore Mapi and Ingrid but we’re gonna pretend she doesn’t exist for this)
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“Wow, someone’s looking good. Hot date or what?” You rolled at Mapi as you entered your living area. Your roommate layed stretched out on the couch, where she often was, with a book in hand, peering over the top of it with a teasing smile on her face. 
“Yeah, Patri’s trying to set me up with some girl she knows. I’m hoping that by agreeing to this one she’ll quit trying to do this all the time.” You weren’t exactly excited for this date, something made clear by your deadpan voice as you talked about it. You were the token single friend in your friend group and you were tired of all of them bugging you about it, constantly trying to set you up. You only agreed to this one in hopes of shutting them up, something that always proved to be difficult. 
“I don’t get why you’re so afraid of talking to girls. You never know, maybe you could bring this one home with you and have some fun?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you. “I can disappear for the night if you want?”  Her sing-songy voice was a hallmark of her usual teasing towards you, both of you used to the fact that she was the one most likely to bring random girls home while you would panic the second a girl made eye contact. 
Despite your differences, the two of you made the most perfect friends. You had lived together for a few years now, saving on rent while also enjoying each other’s company. You were more of a homebody, often appreciating her help in crosswords or sharing books with her while she was the one who got you out of the house, not allowing you to be too much of a homebody. You were the perfect duo and everybody knew it, being more comfortable with each other than with anyone else. 
“Don’t count on it, Maria. I think it’s safe to say you don’t need to plan on disappearing. I’m just going to go have dinner with her and maybe grab some drinks if it goes well. That’s it.” You gave her a knowing look as you put your shoes on and got ready to leave.
“Keep an open mind, you never know, cari. I’m going out with the girls later but you can always give me a call if you need a ride or anything. I’m not drinking tonight so I’ll leave my phone on for you!” And with that, you left the house, off to meet your date.
Your date was fine. The girl was fine, the food was fine, the conversation was fine, it was all just fine. It wasn’t anything special. You didn’t know her at all, obviously, so you felt like the conversation was forced and unnatural. Something about it just left you feeling unsatisfied, seemingly having nothing in common with this girl and therefore nothing to talk about. You couldn’t quite decide what made Patri think it could work out between you but you were over it, your social battery depleted, opting to end the date early so you could go back to the comfort of your own home. Every one of these dates that your friends set you up on left you drained and even more anxious about the idea of ever finding a significant other. 
When you trudged through your apartment door after not being gone for all that long, you weren’t surprised to find Mapi exactly where you left her on the couch. All she could see was the look of annoyance on your face as you slipped off your shoes and made your way to join her, dramatically flopping yourself onto the couch next to her. “I’m guessing the fact that you’re already home will tell me everything I need to know about how your date went?” Her eyebrows rose as she set her book down on her chest to look at you. 
You shot her a glare in response, answering her question for her. The defender raised her hands up as if to surrender, “hey, don’t be getting mad at me, I’m on your side here.” 
“Ugghhh, I know. I’m sorry.” you sat up to finally look at her. “I’m just tired of this shit.” 
“Why don’t you come out with us tonight?”
“I don’t know, I’m tired and I-”
“Cari, listen to me. I think it could be good for you. You can stick with us the whole time, we won’t make you talk to any girls or tease you about it at all.” You scoffed at her words, knowing how unlikely it would be for that to happen. 
“You’re gonna stick with me? Zorri, I guarantee you’ll have your tongue down some girl’s throat in the first ten minutes we’re there.” Her face feigned shock, seemingly offended at your words as you giggled, knowing you were right. 
“Okay well maybe I won’t stick with you but Patri and Pina will!”
“I don’t know, Maps. You just wanna get laid, tonight. I can tell it’s been awhile cause of the stick you’ve had up your ass lately so I think I’ll sit this one out.” You burst out laughing, once again knowing you were right while she started smacking your shoulder. The two of you both broke into a mixture of giggling and hitting each other before trying your best to calm down. 
 This was the nature of your relationship with your Mapi. The two of you were constantly teasing and bullying each other, both of you knowing the love you held for each other. You saw right through what she wanted from her night out, and decided that you just didn’t have the energy to join her, or more accurately, join your other friends, in their night. 
“Mapi, while I appreciate the invite, I’m gonna stay here. But you have fun! I just need a night in.” You stood up from the couch to retreat to your room, stopping briefly to turn back to your friend right as you reached your bedroom door. “And Maria- don’t sleep with that bartender tonight. I know I said to get laid but I don’t mean her. As your friend I’m telling you, something is off about her, so please bring home any other person instead.”
The defender rolled her eyes at you but you knew she’d take your advice seriously. Every time you went out, the same bartender would spend the entire night flirting with Mapi. She hadn’t done anything wrong, per say, but something about her just rubbed you the wrong way and all you knew was that you didn’t want Mapi bringing her back to your apartment. Maybe it was just the way she looked at her or how drop dead gorgeous she was behind the bar, but it made you slightly possessive over your best friend.
With that, you retreated into your room for the night, allowing Mapi to go on with whatever she had planned and for you to get occupied by your thoughts while you attempted to watch a movie. However, all you could think about was how right Mapi had been when she teased you for being so afraid of talking to girls. You had thought about it some before but could never figure out why you were that way. The only girls you were ever all that comfortable around were your teammates and even so, it wasn’t unusual for you to still tense up around them at times. Mapi seemed to be the only one who you truly could let down your walls around no matter what and something about that didn’t sit quite right with you. 
You couldn’t figure it out. She was your best friend and she had been for years, why would you suddenly be questioning how you felt about her? It’s not like anything had changed? So why should your feelings be? 
The more you thought about it, the more it absolutely tore you to pieces, eventually resorting back out to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea in hopes of being able to get to sleep eventually. You didn’t realize how much time had passed until Mapi was quietly opening the front door, sneaking into the kitchen under the assumption you would already be asleep. 
You didn’t hear her enter, scaring you half to death when she suddenly started speaking to you, “You’re still awake? You okay? Something on your mind?” when her voice broke through your thoughts, you jumped, grabbing your chest as you caught your breath. 
“Jesus, Mapi! You scared the shit out of me, what's wrong with you?!”
“Ay, calm down, I didn’t mean to,” she held her hands up in surrender. “Are you okay?” 
You sighed, unable to actually be mad at her. “Yeah, I just couldn’t sleep.” It wasn’t an entire lie, but there was no way you could tell her what you were actually thinking, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible. “I see you’re home alone. Couldn’t find any girls willing to put up with your yapping, huh?” 
“Oh don’t worry, my mouth would have been far too busy to be yapping.” You almost spit out your tea, shocked by her response while she smirked at you, giving you a small shrug once you calmed down. Mapi’s plans for her mouth were certainly not something you needed to be thinking about at the moment. “I just didn’t really feel it tonight, I don’t know.” 
She joined you at the table, stealing a sip from your tea as she did so. “You should’ve seen Patri and Pina tonight, cari. Those two were crazy…” She continued on and on, filling you in on everyone’s antics from the night, while you just listened. It was easy for you to be completely captivated by her as she spoke. You were used to her talking nonsense and you just listening, always getting lost in how excited she got and how her smile grew the longer she spoke. 
Eventually Mapi noticed the way you struggled to keep your eyes open, completely exhausted by the previous day, and helped you up. “Time for bed, you’re hardly awake. Also, don’tbemadatmebut I told Patri about how your date went so don’t be surprised if you hear from her tomorrow. Goodnight!” She rushed out her words, barely understandable, conveniently right before you went to bed and were too tired to actually be mad at her like you would’ve otherwise. Hardly even processing what she said, you decided you could handle Patri in the morning and went straight to bed, finally too worn out to be kept up by your thoughts any longer. 
You slept in late, later than you normally would, hearing Mapi already up and doing things on the other side of your wall. When you eventually emerged from your room, you were shocked at the state of your best friend. “MAPI! What the fuck!” There she was, casually doing her laundry, in nothing but a sports bra and her underwear. 
“Que?” she genuinely looked confused by your reaction, somehow unsure as to what your problem was.
“Since when does laundry day mean walking around in your underwear?!” 
“Well otherwise you can’t clean all your clothes. Cause the one’s you’re wearing are still not clean so you still have more laundry to do. So I figured why not just wash everything?” She acted as if it were the most obvious thing in the world while you kept your eyes glued to the floor, worried that you’d get caught looking somewhere you shouldn’t. You could only hope that she wouldn’t notice the slight blush that was rising to your cheeks.
“Mapi, somehow you still find ways to surprise me even after three years of living with you.” You shook your head at her, trying to hide how flustered you were while you sat down on the couch to check your phone. 
Somehow, you’d already missed a variety of messages from Patri regarding your failed date that she had set you up on. Normally you’d ignore her or tell her off for bugging you about always being single, but for some reason you decided to entertain her today. Maybe if you agreed to more of her setups and put in more of an effort, it could get you out of whatever weird headspace you found yourself in the night before. Whatever it was you were feeling about Mapi, you needed to put an end to it and hopefully some more successful dates could be the solution you needed. So in a lapse of judgment, you agreed to meet up with another one of Patri’s friends that night. Her source of single, lesbian, friends seemed to be endless so she was overjoyed when you finally stopped putting up a fight. 
There you were once again, getting ready to go on yet another date that you weren’t too excited about. You were trying your best to have a good attitude but it was harder than you expected. 
“You’re all dressed up,” Mapi raised her eyebrows at you, mimicking the exact conversation you had had 24 hours earlier. 
You let out a sigh, already regretting your decision to do this. “Yeah, I let Patri set me up with someone else, so I have another date. We’re just getting dinner so I shouldn’t be out too late, especially with training tomorrow morning.” 
“Wow, you’re really putting yourself out there,” she paused for a moment, almost looking… disappointed? But the defender quickly changed her tune, doing a complete 180, “You have fun, chica! Keep an open mind and my phone’s on if you need anything! You can always give me a call!”
“Gracias, Mapi! I’ll see you later? Adios!” 
You set off towards the restaurant you agreed on, deciding on walking as it was only about a twenty minute walk and the weather was nice. If nothing else, the walk could help clear your mind before you had to meet this girl for real. 
You were about five minutes early so you were the first one there, leaving you to get a table and wait for your date to arrive. 
The girl was a total stranger to you, not even having her number, only knowing that somehow Patri knew her and set the whole thing up. So you sat with your glass of wine, and waited.
After a while you checked your watch. It was now ten minutes after your agreed upon time. But that was understandable, right? Ten minutes was no big deal, she was probably just running late. You double checked your texts with Patri to make sure you had the right time and place and went back to waiting. 
There you sat, getting more and more anxious for every minute that passed. This is why you hated things like this; dates always just filled you with anxiety. You’d already received plenty of looks of pity from the wait staff, and weird glances from the people dining around you. After it reached thirty minutes past your meeting time, you gave Patri a call which she of course, didn’t answer. 
When it hit 45 minutes, you decided you had had enough. Tears had started pooling in your eyes from a mix of anger, embarrassment, frustration, and anxiety. You shakily got up from your table, apologizing to your waiter and paying for your wine as you did so. As soon as you reached the front door, you saw that it had begun to rain, instantly deflating your mood even further. You knew walking home would be the thing to fully send you over the edge so you decided to call your Mapi to pick you up. 
“Chica, estás bien?” 
“Mapi, can you please come get me?” Mapi could hear the exhaustion in your voice, obviously trying to hold back tears. 
“Si. Si, I’ll be right there, I’m leaving right now.” You could tell from her voice that she was rushing, coming to your rescue as fast as she could. She stayed on the phone as she drove, speaking nonsense in an attempt to distract you until she arrived about five minutes later. 
When you got in the car, she looked at you hesitantly, clearly wanting to ask what happened. 
“Maps, she stood me up.”
“Oh, cari.” Her hold body deflated at your words, “I’m sorry. I swear, when I see Patri tomorrow I’m gonna kill her. Why would she try to set you up with some shit girl she knows? I can’t stand that! You deserve better than that, you know that, right? You deserve someone who will treat you like a fucking queen, and I-”
You interrupted her by setting your hand on her thigh as she drove. “Mapi, it’s fine. I appreciate the sentiment but it’s fine, it’s not Patri’s fault.” The two of you settled into a comfortable silence- both of you lost in thought, unknowingly for the same reason. 
“Thank you for picking me up,” your voice was hardly audible. 
“Of course. I told you, I’ll always be here for you if you need anything. It’s no bother, really.” 
“You’re telling me you really have nowhere better to be than here picking me up from a  stupid restaurant in the rain?” 
“Where else would I be right now other than the couch? Sure you might have to answer to Bagheera, but I think she’ll understand.” 
You returned her soft smile, although your thoughts were more conflicted than ever before. “I just can’t help but think this is more effort that most people would put into a friend.” Both of you were silent as she parked the car, not quite sure what you were getting at. You didn’t quite know either, if you were being honest. Your emotions had taken over all sense of logic and all you could think about was the girl sitting next to you. 
“Let’s go inside, order some takeout, and talk, si?” You nodded and followed her inside, terrified of the direction your conversation would be going in. 
Once you got inside and changed from your nice clothes, you both settled on the couch next to each other. “Hmm, nice sweatshirt you’ve got there.” Mapi raised an eyebrow at you as you sat down, looking down at your clothes in confusion. You hadn’t even realized that in your mess of an emotional state, you had put on a hoodie that was definitely hers, instantly comforted by the familiar smell. 
“Ugh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize I had it. I’ll wash it and get it back to you tomorrow.”
“Oh no, mi amiga, keep it. I like seeing you in it.” suddenly her voice had gotten much quieter than usual. 
“Mapi, don’t be ridiculous, this is one of your favorites.”
 “No, I mean it. You’re keeping it.” 
You felt tears brimming your eyes once again and tried to blink them away, partially from your emotions from the night catching up to you, and partially filled with appreciation for the girl in front of you. 
“Amiga, are you crying?” 
“NO. No, I’m fine. I’m just tired.” 
“Vale, vale, bien. You’re not crying, I’m just gonna give you a hug, because I want to then, not because you’re crying, because you definitely aren’t crying, I’m just giving you a hug for no reason.” You rolled your eyes at the way she smiled at you, seeing right through you like she always did before pulling you into a hug. Mapi always seemed to know you better than you liked to admit, allowing you to instantly relax in her arms. “You’re adorable.” she mumbled into your shoulder, quietly enough that it took you a second to process her words that she likely didn’t intend for you to hear. 
“What’d you just say, Mapi?”
“Hmm?” she pulled away to look at you. “Oh. Nothing.” Her head shook quickly, as if she had no idea what you were talking about, something that made you smile at her once again. 
“Maps, I know I probably shouldn’t tell you this but I don’t know who else to tell other than you and I just need to get it off my chest.” She looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. “I’m always so scared of girls and dating and all of that.” You looked up at her, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you know that already.” You were met with an encouraging smile as you thought about what you wanted to say next. “But I never could figure out why I was so scared. I just could never get comfortable with anyone and I think I’ve always been terrified of getting hurt if I let my walls down. But lately I feel like I’ve realized that you’re the only person that I ever feel completely comfortable with. And you’re the only person that I’m not worried about hurting me. And I don’t know what to make of that, and it scares me, and you’re literally my favorite person in the world, and I just-” You took a deep breath in an attempt to prevent yourself from getting even more worked up. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”
Mapi was silent in thought for a minute but reached out to grab your hand, her way of letting you know that she wasn’t upset but just needed a second to think before responding. When she finally did, her voice was shaky and much less animated than you typically heard it. “You know how I am with dating. You know I’d rather just hook up with people and play around.” This was not at all what you expected her to say, raising your anxiety even further. “I never saw myself being able to settle down. It was always too scary. I’d rather put no feelings into it and just have fun than risk someone else fucking me up. But something about you, changes that for me. There’s a reason I haven’t been hooking up with anyone lately. You were my best friend before you were anything else, amor, and I don’t want to put that at risk.” Her eyes glanced up at you hesitantly, barely whispering out her last words, “But you make the idea of settling down seem easy.”  
If you thought you were confused before, it couldn’t even compare to how you felt now. Your mind was running on overdrive, trying its best to make sense of her confession. You’d never in life seen Mapi look so scared and vulnerable, something that was saying a lot as you had seen her at some major low points. She was hardly making eye contact with you, and was more fidgety than usual- picking at her nails and tapping her foot. 
The defender took a huge deep breath, before giving your hands a squeeze. She could easily see the way your thoughts were spiraling and knew she would have to be the one to say what you were both thinking. 
“Why don’t we stop pretending we still think of each other as friends? Cause I don’t know if I can do that anymore.” 
You looked up at her surprised, just now realizing that she was serious in sharing the feelings you had. “Mapi are you for real? And don’t fuck with me right now, cause I swear-”
She giggled slightly at your reaction, stopping you in your tracks, “En serio, amor. Prometo.” You could tell that she was. Her face was as serious as she ever was. 
“Then let’s not be just friends anymore.” 
You hardly realized the way the two of you had drifted closer throughout your conversation, both of you speaking much quieter, only a few inches apart. “I want to show you what you deserve, treat you like the queen you are, and show you how much I love everything about you.” Both of you were looking all over the other’s face, your eyes bouncing from her lips, back up to her eyes, and taking in everything in between. If you could memorize every freckle in that moment, you would’ve.
“Then do it, Maps.” 
There was maybe only an inch separating you, but for some reason she was still scared of messing it up. "Am I reading this wrong? If I am.. push me away." Your noses brushed together as you could feel her breath on yours. When you didn’t hesitate at her words, she took that as the approval she needed, instantly pressing her lips against yours. The chemistry between you was more than either of you had felt with anyone else, finally doing exactly what you didn’t realize you had been waiting for along.
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feyhunter78 · 2 days
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Think I'm Gonna Call it Off
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Description: You have been Prince Aemond's secret for years now, but a certain visiting Stark opens your eyes to what could be.
Inspired by the line “think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love, I just wanna love someone who calls me baby.” From Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan
This was ridiculous, you are a Lady of a fine house, virtuous, beautiful, intelligent, kind and your embroidery skills have been praised by Queen Alicent herself and yet here you sit waiting for Prince Aemond to return. To return and not spare you a single glance. Not until you are tucked away from the prying eyes of the court, until he is confident no one can hear your conversations.
You wonder if it is foolishness that keeps you sitting there, leaning against one of the many windows in the library, searching the skies for Vhagar’s great form set against the clouds.
You have rejected a number of suitors, worried your father and mother, made yourself seem all but undesirable in the eyes of the court, all because the prince swore that he would tell his mother. That he would announce to the whole of the realm that he loved you, and that you would be wed as soon as possible. He does not want a Valyrian wedding he said, he has no taste for it, he wants to honor you, honor his mother, and the Seven whom he worshiped.
“Lady y/n?” Lord Cregan Stark’s voice rolls through you like thunder, the deep baritone, the rouge northern brocade that made him pronounce your name just slightly different from everyone else, just enough that shamefully it makes you feel special.
You turn your head away from the towering window and give him a small smile. “Lord Stark, I did not expect to see you here.”
He returns your smile and leans against the wall; arms crossed over his chest.
Seven help you, he did have such strong looking arms, the sight of them never ceases to distract you. Even his thick tunic, and his dark-colored cloak could not hide them. Truly, everything about Lord Stark seemed strong. Queen Alicent said it is common of a Northmen, that they must be strong to survive the winters, while Lady Frey said it was the wolf’s blood in his veins. That all Starks had unnatural strength, speed, and stamina granted to them by the Old Gods. Neither woman’s explanation accounted for the man’s looks though.
Lord Stark is quite handsome, a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones with a close-cut beard, more stubble than a full beard though, and gray eyes like a winter storm. His dark hair is around Prince Aegon’s length, though often tied back and much better cared for. His lips are full and healed, having been cracked and dry from the drastic change in temperature on his trip down south. A small scar runs through the corner of them, on the right side, giving him a more roguish appearance. He said he had gotten it as a child, playing around with his father’s sword. And he was tall, so, so tall, towering over you in a way no man has before.
Then he laughs, the sound warming you to the bones, making a blush rise to your cheeks. “Do not tell me you think me a barbarian, as the others do. I thought you knew me better than that, little fox.”
The name he has graced you with never fails to make your heart stutter and disrupt any coherent thought you might have had. It is a reference to your house sigil, you know that. But the way he says it, how his accent wraps around each syllable, makes it seem far more…intimate than simply a friendly moniker given to you by a man who does not know your customs.
Aemond calls you his, or some sweet term of endearment in High Valyrian in private, sticking to Lady y/h/n in public. You wish he would use your name, you have told him time and time again, even the Queen and Princess Helaena use it. You have been at the Red Keep for nearly a decade now, been in the Princess’ inner circle of friends for almost as long, it would not seem strange to others.
“Lord Stark—”
“Cregan, or Lord Cregan if you must add the lord, as I have told you before.” He corrects you, but not unkindly, his lips curling up into a fondly exasperated smile.
“Lord Cregan, I did not mean to imply I believe that libraries were not your preferred place to spend your time, only that I thought you would be joining the other men on their hunt.”
He glances out the window towards the Kingswood. “And I would think you would be taking tea or sewing with the other ladies.”
You have been caught.
“Ah yes, well, as you know, Prince Aemond is to return today and Princess Helaena asked me to keep watch. She loves her brother very much but has to entertain the other ladies so could not watch for him herself.”
You pray Helaena will forgive you for involving her in a lie.
Cregan hums low in his throat and his eyes flicker to you, picking you apart. “Did she now?”
You nod, not trusting your own voice.
“The prince is lucky to have such a vision of beauty to return home to.” He says, running his eyes down your form, drinking in every detail with something akin to reverence? Though you know you must be seeing things. Cregan Stark would not look at you in such a way, there is no reason to.
“Princess Helaena is quite beautiful.” You agree, trying to keep an air of propriety around you even as your mind screams at you to flee for fear you will say something utterly stupid.
Cregan reaches out, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment caressing your cheek. “Aye, but she is not who I speak of.”
You? He means you?
You duck your head, cheeks warming once more. “You flatter me.”
He shifts forward, invading your space, the scent of forest air and woodsmoke filling your nostrils. “Is it flattery if it is true?” He is so close, still a respectable distance but close enough that you can reach out and touch him, can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
“I believe that is a question for the maesters.” You tease lightly, your heart pounding in your chest.
“You are a smart girl, little fox, I am sure you can figure it out.” He teases back, a glimmer in his eyes that excites you.
No one teases you; no one jests or challenges you like Cregan does. You assume it is because they all know Prince Aemond has claim on you, or because you are a lady, but you are educated, and strong-willed, you enjoy a good challenge. You enjoy Cregan speaking to you like an equal.
“Truth is relative, as they say.” You offer, cocking your head innocently, barely able to keep a smile off your face.
“Aye, some say. Though your beauty is truth, relative or not. Surely you must know that.” He counters.
“Vanity is not a virtue.” You say, meeting his gaze. The storm gray of them has softened to a dove gray, mirth dancing within them.
“Neither is lying and yet…”
“Are you accusing me of lying, Lord Cregan?” You gasp in mock outrage.
“About knowing that your beauty is what every man dreams of returning home to? Yes.” He says, his tone light and blithe, but his words, and the way his eyes darken for a moment? It takes your breath away.
“Your beauty, little fox, is one that haunts men’s dreams, that keeps them fighting when they are the last standing. That they keep in their mind as they clash swords, traverse through snow and sea.” He continues, holding your gaze, voice no longer light, but heavy with intent and promise. “It is a beauty one wishes to see the moment they return home before all else, or any others. A beauty that should be admired in all lights and shadows. The setting of the sun and its rising, the summer days and winter nights, one to be cherished.”
You break away from his gaze, a twinge of sadness in your chest. Aemond has never spoken to you in such a way, he has waxed poetic about your beauty, flattered you, lavished you with sweet words, but it has never felt the same as Cregan’s did now. Guilt replaces the sadness, and you toy with the edge of your sleeves. You should not be engaging with Cregan in this way, it was not right, even if it made you feel…something. “You are too kind, My Lord.”
Cregan reaches for you, breaching what was proper, and taking your hand in his. They are so much larger than yours, so warm, so gentle. “Have I spoken out of turn?”
“No, no, I am just—I am a maiden of the South, Lord Stark, I am not used to such forwardness from a man I am not courting with.”
“Honesty, it is honesty, though I apologize for my forwardness.” Cregan says, subconsciously stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Either way, I am not used to it.” You say heart calming with each stroke of his calloused thumb.
Cregan’s brows furrow. “I have heard tales of—the other noblemen, they speak highly of you. Of your beauty, your kindness, your wit, are they all struck dumb by your very being, is that why no one has praised you as you deserve?”
You feel you should say something about Aemond, but what could you truly say? There is no formal betrothal in place, he has not publicly staked his claim beyond a possessiveness that those who spent enough time in court could see. But nothing is ever outwardly stated.
You go to speak, but Cregan stops you. “My apologies, I should not have asked such a thing, how are you to know what lies within the minds of man?”
“You are correct, I do not know their minds.” You say instead and bury down any explanation involving Aemond and his invisible claim.
A dragon roar fills the air, the window vibrates with the force of the sound, and your eyes shoot back to the window. Prince Aemond is home.
“Or they fear the mind of one man and thus hold their tongues.” Cregan says, releasing your hand.
“The prince? I—he—we…it is not—” You cannot get the words out fast enough.
“I will take my leave.” He says, remaining for a moment searching your face until it seemed he had found what he is looking for, and left.
You watch him go, admiring the strength in his stride, when he turns back, a strange look in his eyes. “At the feast tonight, might I have a dance?” He asks.
“With me?” Your heart is pounding against your chest.
He nods.
Footsteps rush by the open library door, and you can hear Princess Helaena calling out to Prince Aemond.
You stand, smoothing out your skirts with shaky hands, why did he make you so nervous? Or is not nerves, but excitement? “Of course, Lord Cregan, I would be honored.”
“I will hold you to that.” Cregan smile, then he disappears down the hall, and you are left alone to hurry after the princess.
Aemond does not call for you until hours after he has returned. When you knock on the door to his chambers, dressed already for the feast, he bids you to enter in a soft voice, exhaustion tinging each word.
You hurry to his side, clasping one hand between your own. “My Prince, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you have returned safely.”
He uses his free hand to cup your cheek, that half smile, half smirk he wears so well on his well sculpted face. “I was only gone for a mere moon, and I was never in any danger, did you doubt your Prince, ��uha nūmio?”
“No, of course not, but…you would not tell me where you were going, no one would.” You say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“That is simply because it was not information you needed.” He says, brushing the pad of his thumb across your lips.
“But if I am to be your wife, would it not be prudent if I were to know where my husband is?”
Aemond’s eye, a brilliant amethyst, hardens, then he looks away and sighs. “Lady y/h/n I have told you patience is a virtue, and your virtue is what I adore most.”
You bite your lip, internally chastising yourself. You know better than to rush him. “My apologies.”
Aemond frees your bottom lip from between your teeth and brushes his lips across your forehead. “Do not take my words so harshly, your eagerness is quite endearing, and I to wish for us to be wed, but it is not yet time.”
You lean into his touch, “I understand.”
“How have you been amusing yourself while I was away, ñuha nūmio? Did anything exciting happen?” Aemond asks, his thumb resting beside the corner of your lip.
“Not much, it seems you had taken all the excitement with you. Though as you know Lord Stark’s arrival has caused quite a stir and now two moons later still is. Many ladies are jockeying for the position of Lady of the North.” You tell him, giggling at the memory of some of your friends’ actions.
“But not you?” Aemond asked, his tone making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
“No, I am yours, why would I wish to be Lady of the North?” You reassured him, brushing back a lock of silver hair from his face.
For a moment, you are struck with the feel of Cregan’s fingertips, rough and calloused but gentle against your skin. The warmth of his skin, the softness of his gaze, the earnestness of his words. What was he looking for when he stared into your eyes, when he took in every detail of your face?
“If you are too distracted, you may leave, My Lady.” Aemond says, the irritation in his voice drawing you from your thoughts.
“No, no, I am not, I am just so happy you have returned.”
Aemond hums in acknowledgement, dressed in his feast finery as well. “I have missed you.”
Your heart flutters. “I have missed you as well.”
He releases your chin to trail his fingers down the column of your neck. His cool touch causes goosebumps to follow in his wake, and he dips his head low to press his lips to your cheek, then begins to follow his fingers with his lips. “I have missed you, your voice, your smiles, your touch.”
You shiver in response, grabbing onto his doublet.
“Do not touch, you will wrinkle the fabric.” He warns, even as his hands grip your waist.
You remove your hands, clasping them behind your back.
“I will not be able to dance with you tonight, mother has brought another girl for me to try and charm.” He says, into your skin, his silver hair brushing against your exposed décolletage.
Your heart sinks. “Not even one dance?”
Aemond sighs and presses a final kiss to the hollow of your throat. “You know I detest it as much as you do, but it is my duty.”
You nod, blinking back the tears that threaten to appear on your waterline.
He smooths down your hair and turns you towards the door. “I will try to find time for one dance, but I cannot make any promises.”
His words lift your spirits, and you smile at him. “Thank you, Aemond.”
“Prince Aemond, we have guests tonight.” He reminds you, then he shuts the door, and you hurry back to your chambers.
The Great Hall is decorated beautifully, and you sit at your table with the other ladies of Helaena’s circle. A wine glass in hand as you watch Aemond dance with Cerelle Peake, her brown hair pinned up with a net of gold and sapphires, her umber gown flowing beautifully as she twirled.
“Come now, y/n, you will never be asked to dance with such a scowl.” Johanna Swyft says, poking your cheek goodnaturedly.
“No, she will never be asked to dance because the prince glares at anyone who tries.” Mina Redwyne says, clinking her glass against yours in silent sympathy.
Johanna shoots her a look. “Do keep your voice down, Mina.”
You take a long drink from your glass, emptying it, then setting it down, scanning the crowd for another servant. “Perhaps I do not wish to dance.”
“I am crushed to hear that Lady y/n.” Cregan’s presence makes every lady at your table sit up straight, and you turn to face him.
“Lord Stark.” You say, bowing your head in his direction.
He holds out a hand, and you remember how it nice felt, the phantom warmth still lingering. “I do believe you agreed to a dance, earlier today?”
“Lucky.” Mina hisses, as Johanna juts her elbow into your side to prod you up and out of your seat.
You stand, and take his hand, trying to ignore the twinge of pain in your side. “I did.”
Cregan leads you to the dance floor, and you can hear your friends giggling behind you, much to your utter embarrassment.
“Your friends seem quite encouraging.” Cregan says, barely holding back a laugh.
“When they learned I have no sisters, they decided that they would act as such, apparently that means acting in a most embarrassing way.” You say, falling into the rhythm of the dance.
“I knew you had brothers, but I did not know you were the only daughter, that must make you very precious in your father’s eyes.” Cregan ventures, his large, warm hand pressed to yours as you circle each other.
“I would like to think so.” You smile, your heart aches for a moment with homesickness. “He could not attend this feast, he is too ill to travel, my eldest brother is here on his behalf, accompanied by my second-eldest brother who is here to drink and presumably enjoy the Silk Streets.”
“I never had a taste for brothels.”
“Nor I.”
Cregan smiles and twirls you. “I thought not, for I have heard you are far too virtuous.”
You shrug. “It is more, I do not wish to spend the coin.”
Shock flashes across his face then he laughs, repeating your words quietly with a chuckle, and as you are spun back into his arms you cannot help but laugh as well.
“You are clever, little fox, I will miss you when I return home.” He says, his eyes searching you once more.
Your heart stops, and you trip over your feet. “You are leaving?”
His grip on you tightens as he helps you right yourself. “Aye, I have here for two moons, that is far too long, my people need me.”
You do not want him to leave, you will miss him dearly, his laugh, his expressions, his stories. You will miss the walks you had taken together, the discussions that ran late into the night, just outside your chambers, the men standing guard pretending they were not listening. The way he presented you with the pelts of animals he had hunted, regaling you with the tale of how he felled it. Who would challenge you now, who would make you laugh, would listen to your words, and respond as if you were an equal, as if your sex did not diminish your intelligence?
“When will you leave?” You ask, unable to keep your voice steady, so you spin away from him to give yourself a moment to smother your emotions.
Cregan pulls you back into his arms, trapping you with his steady gaze. “In a few days time.”
“Oh…” You manage to choke out, swallowing hard, your eyes on your feet.
“I have been meaning to tell you, there just never seemed to be a good time.” Cregan says sheepishly.
You nod, still staring at the floor. “Well, I will miss you.”
“I will miss you too, y/n,” he says softly, then he slips a finger under your chin and lifts it gently. “In all lights, in all seasons.”
Tears blur your vision, and you hastily blink them away, not even noticing he has said only your given name, no title attached. Cregan’s warm thumb catches any stray tears that fall, and you lean into his touch, desperate for more of that something he had made you feel before. That something you realize he was always making you feel, and that he is making you feel right now, though it is tinged with grief. “Cregan, I—”
“Lady y/h/n, I believe I promised you a dance.” Aemond’s voice is steel, ice, the frigid fear that ran through the veins of Vhagar’s victim, and you hurriedly wipe away any remaining tears plastering on a false smile, before you turn, Cregan’s other hand still on your waist.
You drop into a curtsy. “My Prince, that you did.”
Cregan’s hand lingers, and your heart lurches in your chest when the warmth of it is finally removed.
Another song has begun to play, one you love dancing with Aemond to. It allows for close movements and lingering touches that you always long for with him.
“I thought you did not wish to be the Lady of the North.” He says, his eyes picking you apart as Cregan’s did but there is a cold methodical feel to it that makes you feel utterly and horribly exposed.
“He was merely being kind, no one else had asked me to dance.” You protest, falling into the rhythm as you had before.
“No one else should, you are mine.” Aemond say, spinning you out, and then back in.
His hands burn through your gown, your skin, meeting bone, and before you would have loved it, relished the feeling, but now you feel they are too hot, your skin prickles uncomfortably.
“I like to dance; I do not get to dance when you are occupied, and you are often occupied.” You say quietly, your head bowed ever so slightly.
“I had them play your favorite song, as a reward for your patience.” He says, ignoring your words. “Do you like it?”
“I do, thank you.” You smile and raise your head, hoping to catch his eye and find it brimming with affection. That would soothe your wounded heart, would banish the grief you feel at Cregan leaving.
Instead, his eye is elsewhere, you follow its gaze to see it land on the Peake girl. You do not blame her, do not hate her, though your blood turns to fire in your veins, and you brace yourself for what you are going to say next.
“When are we going to be wed, I have been patient for many years, and you never tell me when my patience will be able to end.” You say, holding your chin high. You are not a Peake, but you still have pride.
His eye flicker back to you, his grip tightening. “Are you truly asking this now?”
“Yes. Yes, I am, because I am tired of waiting, tired of watching as you charm others, tired of being shunted to the side because even though you will not claim me, no one else is allowed to.” You can no longer keep your emotions contained. “I want to be happy Aemond, I want to be happy with you, but I am not happy.”
“Not everything is about your happiness, Lady y/h/n.” Aemond snaps.
You reel back as if you have been struck. “I did not say it was. You have been the one saying you wished to marry me, promising me you would tell the whole of the realm how deeply you care for me. I have done nothing else but dote on you and be patient.”
Guilt flashes across his face, and he reaches for you, but you push his hands away. “It is not so simple.”
“Do you see my face in your dreams, does it keep you fighting, keep you marching on, am I the first person you wish to see when you return home, do you wish to see me in all lights, in all seasons?” You throw Cregan’s words in Aemond’s face and wait for a response.
Aemond laughs, taking your hands, and bringing you back into the dance. “You have picked up a new book of poetry, I see.”
You cannot find it in yourself to be angry, the shock settling in, muffling everything until it is as if you are floating underwater. The rest of the night passes that way, you go through the motions, avoiding Cregan, your friends, shooting you concerned looks.
Then the feast ends, guards escort those too drunk to find their chambers, all others dispersing to their places for the night, or into Fleabottom for more revelry.
You try to sleep, but it will not come, Cregan and Aemond’s words echoing in your sleepless mind, until finally you throw off your blankets and wrap a robe around your nightshift.
You creep through the halls, no true direction in mind, letting your feet take you where they wished, when a flicker of umber catches your eye. Pressing yourself behind a pillar, you wait a moment then peek out.
“Lord Stark, might I be allowed to enter?” Cerelle Peake’s voice is soft, as was required for the late hours.
“Lady Peake, might I ask why you wish to enter my chambers?” Cregan asks, his words thick with sleep. His hair is loose, his night shift exposing his broad chest.
“I thought perhaps you might enjoy some company.” She says, as she takes a step towards him, moving to run a finger down his chest.
Cregan catches her hand and gently returns it to her side. “I do not wish for your company, Lady Peake. Please return to your chambers quietly, and I will not speak with your father about this.”
Cerelle scoffs and turns on her heel, storming down the hallway. You wait until Cregan’s door closed then follow her.
Halfway there, you know where she was going, you have walked these halls many times. Not wanting to further your own pain, you turn back to your own chambers, but your feet disobey you, and you find yourself in front of Cregan’s door.
You knock before you could stop yourself and the door swing open, a tired and angry Cregan standing before you. “Lady Peake, I do not need any comp—” His words die on his lips as he realizes it was you and not Cerelle. “Y/N?”
“All those things you said, about my beauty, about me, did you mean them? Truly?” Tears prick at the backs of your eyes, your chest tight, your bottom lip trembling.
Cregan rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Do not tell me you woke me only to hear more flattery.”
A sob escapes your lips. “I thought you said it was truth, not flattery.”
Cregan snaps awake, pulling you into his arms. “Little fox, I am sorry, I was half asleep, yes, yes, it is truth.”
You cling to him, gripping his night shirt, your face buried in his chest as you sob, every fear, every pain spilling out into his warm embrace. “Tell me you meant it, that you see me in your dreams, that you want me, in all lights, all seasons, that I am not destined to wait forever for someone to love me.”
“I love you, y/n, I love you, you do not need to wait, I will tell you as many times as you desire. I meant it, all of it, you haunt my dreams, you plague my waking thoughts, I want you in at any time, in any manner, or light, or moment I can have you.” He says, his voice is steady, and you can feel the vibrations of it deep in his chest, alongside the sound of his beating heart.
“I want to go with you to Winterfell, I want to be your Lady of the North, or even just your mistress if my house is not a good enough match, Cregan I do not care. I love you and all I care about is that we are not parted, that we are never parted, I do not think I will be able to breathe if we are parted.” You confess, looking up at him afraid to see what you saw in Aemond’s eye.
Cregan cups your face and kisses you, the taste of honeyed ale on his tongue, his hands warm as he keeps you close, using his foot to kick the door closed so he can press you against it.
Now in the safety of his chambers he breaks the kiss, your breaths intermingling. “You will not be a mistress, you will be my wife, none will come before you.”
“Will you tell your people, will they know?” You ask, your lips brushing against his with each word.
“I will wake the whole Red Keep to announce it now if you wish.” He says, his forehead resting against yours.
You reconnect your lips with his, his stubble brushing against your skin, but you pay it no mind, letting Cregan devour you, his hands moving into your hair, as you loop your arms around his neck, keeping him close.
He groans against you, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, delving in when you part them and exploring every inch of you. “My little fox, my y/n, my wife, my beautiful, clever wife.” He presses the words into your skin, heated lips trailing down to your pulse point.
“Husband.” You sigh, tilting your neck further exposing yourself to him, his teeth sinking into the skin claiming you as his own.
“Say it again for me, my wife, tell me who I am.” He breaths, sucking, and nipping at your neck, returning to darken the marks between creating new ones.
“You, Cregan, my husband.” You say, eyes snapping open when he releases you and stalks over to the window.
He threw it open and stuck his head out, shouting. “Y/N Y/H/N, is to be my wife.”
You rush forward and pull him from the window with a scandalized giggle. “Cregan it is the middle of the night.”
“Then at the very least a few guards heard.” He says, pulling you close and kissing you again, in full view of the window, the moon, anyone else who might look up, and it is exactly as you want it.
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laneywrld · 1 day
Text
things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton
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part two
word count: 10k
warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.
A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate
It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.
Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.
Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 
Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.
Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 
Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.
Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  
Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.
She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 
She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.
She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.
Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 
She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.
That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.
Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.
When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 
Lewis 🏁
How's your date?
She shakes her head, typing out her response.
dense. how's silverstone? 
Lewis 🏁
Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.
i'm sorry 😞  
Lewis 🏁
I'm going to need you tonight.
Lewis, i'm on a date.
Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.
Lewis 🏁
Is he getting lucky tonight?
NO!
Lewis 🏁
So why can't I?
Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 
She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.
"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 
She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.
Lewis 🏁
My jet will be waiting for you.
That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 
When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 
It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.
"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.
He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.
"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."
"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.
"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.
Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 
She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 
After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.
She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."
"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.
Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 
Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.
Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 
He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.
Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.
"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.
She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."
"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."
His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.
"Okay." 
Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.
"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.
Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?
She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.
"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 
She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.
"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"
Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 
Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.
"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"
Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."
"Why that?"
"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."
Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."
Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 
-
They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.
"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 
"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."
"Come on, beautiful."
He sits up, forcing her up with him.
She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 
He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.
He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.
He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.
There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.
"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.
She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.
When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.
This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 
She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 
"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.
As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.
The screen lights up with notifications. 
One catches her eye from, Natalie.
Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.
Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.
It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.
Still on for tomorrow?
At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.
"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 
She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 
He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.
Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.
But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.
She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 
Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.
-
She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.
He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.
"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"
She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 
Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.
When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.
"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.
"Hi, George, I'm Clem."
"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.
"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."
George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.
"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"
She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.
Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."
And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.
George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.
"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."
"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.
Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.
When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.
She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.
She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.
"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.
"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.
"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.
"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.
She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.
She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.
"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.
He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"
She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."
"Then get in the fucking car."
Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 
He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.
Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 
Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.
It has him hard instantly.
"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.
"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."
Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.
"I want to kiss you, but people will see."
She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.
"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.
"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 
"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."
"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.
"You like fucking with me." He declares.
Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.
"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.
He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.
 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 
He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.
He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.
Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.
When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 
He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 
She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.
He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 
"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.
He looks stressed and zoned out.
"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.
Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.
She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."
That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."
She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."
Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.
Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."
"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.
Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.
"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.
"Time to race, Lewis."
She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.
Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.
She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.
When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 
She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 
She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.
She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.
She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.
She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 
She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 
She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.
His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.
Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 
"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.
She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.
"I can feel it in my bones." 
"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.
Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 
He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.
"Well, that's me."
Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.
"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.
"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.
"Get in the car, Hamilton."
She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.
She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.
Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.
She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.
"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.
"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."
Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.
Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"
She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."
Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.
"Intense, yeah?" He questions.
"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."
"First time coming to a race?"
She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."
She laughs, "Right."
The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 
He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.
But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.
Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.
Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.
It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 
He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.
This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 
That anger got him P3. 
He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.
Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.
She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.
She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.
When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.
But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 
When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 
There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.
He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.
He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.
He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 
"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."
Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 
"Can you walk?" 
She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 
Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.
He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.
Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.
Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 
"I had fun," she announces.
"I'm glad."
"You got podium." She cheers lowly.
Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.
She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 
The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.
When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.
As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.
Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.
"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.
"No, I don't." 
"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.
"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.
"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 
"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.
Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.
"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.
She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.
He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 
"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 
He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.
She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.
He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.
Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 
He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 
Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 
She tasted so good.
Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 
Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 
He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.
He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.
"Fuck."
Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.
Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 
When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 
She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.
He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 
"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.
"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.
"I think you do." 
His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.
"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.
"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"
Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.
Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 
He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 
He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.
Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 
This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.
Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.
Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.
She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 
Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.
He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.
"Woah." she pants.
Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.
Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.
"I booked you a room."
He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.
"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  
"It's just a floor below, suite 909."
Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"
Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.
"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.
Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 
"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.
Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."
She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.
She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 
Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 
 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."
Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.
She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.
And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.
She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 
The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 
She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.
For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 
It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.
Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.
It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.
-
Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 
He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.
He regrets his actions. 
He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 
He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.
"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"
He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 
He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.
He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.
He never stood a chance against her charm.
He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.
-
When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 
"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.
The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.
"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."
Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.
Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 
-
Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 
Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.
Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 
"That was fun." She exhales.
He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 
This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 
He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"
He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.
"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."
Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.
He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.
It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 
He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.
Everything unchanged, nothing new.
Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.
So he tries dating. 
And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.
Their eyes don't gleam like hers.
They don't understand his humor.
They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.
They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.
They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.
They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.
Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.
And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 
When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.
clemmy 🪂
I need to see you, where are you?
He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.
He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.
He'd take any sight of her he could get.
-
Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 
If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 
She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 
How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 
"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."
Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."
Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 
But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.
Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 
clementine
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liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others
clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 
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feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿
clementine the coolest 😎
lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR
clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️
user no bc who did my girl like that
clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃
user builds character my ass, go beat his ass
user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???
clementine yk im filming girl 🙄
clementine
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clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?
danielricciardo In your hands slaps
clementine you sir, have great taste 😘
user daniel what are you doing here 😭
user No really, weird ass crossover episode
user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen
clementine you noticing the small details >>>
justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me
clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂
user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm
feliciathegoat i love my bestie
clementine and I love u T 🥹
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-
Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.
He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.
Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 
He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 
He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 
He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 
He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.
She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.
"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."
"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."
She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.
His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.
She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.
"I love you."
She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"
He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."
"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.
"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.
"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 
He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.
"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."
Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."
"But you did, " she cries.
"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."
"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 
"I promise I do, Clem."
She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."
He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."
"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."
It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 
"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you."
"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.
"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."
"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 
"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.
"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.
"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 
"Are we still friends?"
"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 
"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.
She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."
"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 
"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.
"Starting over, right?"
"Yeah, starting over."
Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.
Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 
"Thank you for showing up for me."
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Not proofread
the album:
bad religion - frank ocean
in your hands - halle
i think- tyler, the creator
saturn- sza
broken is the man- jorja smith
everything is gonna be alright- infinity song
everything- kehlani
mine- beyonce ft drake
poison- beyonce
are we still friends- tyler, the creator
eternal sunshine- jhene aiko
<3
192 notes · View notes
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27 / 1.7k / spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2
⬇ nsfw; mention of revenge porn
...
Gaz doesn't negotiate. He doesn't back down. When the situation calls for it, he knows when it's time to escalate.
That's why he fucks you on your dining room table instead of a public bathroom. Partly because he's not a slag. The idea of you possibly agreeing to do it--of giving him the same ammunition you gave your ex to humiliate you--leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Even if you started rumors and risked his reputation.
A growl rises in his throat at the thought of your ex having the gall to send him that video of you. Christ. What on Earth did you see in him?
Partly, though, he wants to fuck you in your own house so that when he next sees your prat of an ex-boyfriend, he can properly rub it in that fucker's face that you invited him in on the first date.
Or maybe he'll take a picture of your panties in his teeth. He hasn't decided yet.
You're strung out with pleasure, your bare back against the table. You’re caught between wondering why he wanted to fuck you after all and letting every last reservation about it vanish into nothing. You’ve always wanted this. You never thought it would happen.
"Sergeant," you gasp out. "Is this-- what about your reputation--?"
"Don't start." His fingers trail the lines of your body, his eyes fixed on the parts of you he caught only blurry glimpses of in your ex's video. It didn't do you justice.
He wants to pretend there's nothing to this besides convenience--you did owe him. Hell, you wanted to sleep with him. You always made that crystal clear. Now he's just allowing himself to give in to baser impulses like a dog snatching up a rabbit thrown into its path.
But you're right. This will look bad if someone finds out. He should worried, but it's hard to care about that when the thing competing for his attention is the filthy way your pussy swallows him again and again, seeing how slick you leave the base of his cock.
He should've used a condom. He knows for a fact you knew he didn't and you said nothing. He'd tell you off for it now, too, but he's absolutely certain it would just make you cum. The nerve of you.
His hips stutter for a second before he can banish that thought from his mind. He shouldn't like the idea of you being that obsessed. Acting like you'd do anything he asked. Christ, work would be a nightmare if this got out. Him actually sleeping with you. But then again, he suddenly doesn't much like the idea of you finding a different rebound. You'd just be thinking of him anyway, right? Wouldn’t you?
Whatever. He’ll deal with the fallout later. When he's not enjoying your body.
“Who’s going to know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to your chest. “Let it go.”
“Mkay,” you sigh out. There's nothing more you want than to please him right now.
"You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you." It's not a question. You both know it's true. And he likes that--he hates admitting it, but he does. His eyes drop to your pussy again, and his hips pick up their pace.
You've spent months flirting with him, teasing him about taking you to bed. Now you're getting everything you want. He's right. Why would you care one goddamn second about the consequences? “Anything.”
He hates how needy you sound when you say that. You're too trusting. He's taking advantage of you. Don't you get that?
His grip on your hips tightens, pushing into you more and more roughly. Your moans rise in pitch and he has to grit his teeth.
“Good." He says lowly. "Then you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"
"But--ah, ngh..." You bite your lip as he stops thrusting and grinds himself into you. You gyrate your hips, needing friction. "But people already think we're together."
“Do they? That’s a bold claim.” You're overestimating how many people believe silly rumors. Besides, it's hardly your concern anymore. He lays his palms flat on the table on either side of you, bracing himself. Your skin is so soft; your neck tempts him, but he restrains himself. "You're keeping your mouth shut from now on, yeah?"
You let out a sound of frustration as he slows even further. You try to push your hips harder against his. "Sergeant, please!"
"You want this, don't you?" His voice is chilled, but the heat in his eyes as he stares down at your bucking hips is hardly discouraging. "You'll want it again. You'll keep wanting it."
"Ugh, yes," you snap, squeezing your thighs fruitlessly around his toned waist.
"As long as you don't tell a soul about this, I’ll see to it that you get what you want," he growls. "Not your team, your friends, your stupid ex. No one."
You open your mouth to question him again, but he pulls away and snaps his hips hard into yours. Whatever you were about to say dissolves into a string of semi-coherent affirmations. Yes, you'll keep it quiet. Yes, you'll pretend none of this ever happened. Yes, you'll never use his name on base again. Anything he wants. Just don't stop.
"Good girl. Good girl..." Easy enough. Now that he knows how to get his way with you, you shouldn't be such a problem anymore. He can’t help but be a little greedy, though. "You're not going to fuck anyone else, either."
"Never!"
He grunts in approval. "And you'll never--and I mean never --try to get back with your ex. Understand? You'll stay away from him."
You writhe and plead, winding your arms around his shoulders. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the table, the muscles in his arms taut.
"Do. You. Understand?" His voice comes down on you like low thunder, all around you.
"Yes!"
"Good. I'll know if you do. Mm…" His breathing grows shallow. Your heat is impossibly tight, and tightening up even more. He squeezes your wrists. "You going to cum?"
"C-Can I?" you breathe out. "Please, can I cum?"
His hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a moment. God, he's never been tested like this.
"Sergeant, please!"
"Cum," he says, the word short and sharp like gunfire. "Cum on my cock. Right now."
He presses his thumb to your clit and you wail, clenching around him like you haven't cum in weeks. Your body rolls, practically convulses, your head knocking against your dining table as you arch up. He lets out a snarl, not slowing down despite how painfully tight you squeeze him.
Once you come down from the high, his pace never slowing, your swollen core twitches and spasms with overstimulation. You cry out, but you make yourself stay in place. You want to keep making him feel good. You want to make him feel better than he ever has.
"Cum inside me," you pant out. "I-I'm on birth control. You can-- please--"
"You're a liar," he growls through clenched teeth even as he picks up his pace.
"I promise," you plead. Even if you're a liar, and you are, you're not lying about this. God, you want him to do it so bad you can feel yourself clench up again at the thought.
You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm when he pulls out, spilling his load across your chest and stomach instead.
You clench down on nothing, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction even as your orgasm ebbs out of reach. You let your head fall back onto the table, your breathing heavy. You don't see his eyes running over you, deliberating.
"Sergeant?"
"Mm?"
"Do you maybe want my phone number?" Almost seems like a silly question. He has your address now anyway.
"Hm." He pulls away, picking up your discarded purse from the mess of clothes on the floor. He pulls out your phone and opens your texts, types in his number, and sends himself a quick message. Then he finds your conversation with your ex-boyfriend. His eyes narrow. The last texts exchanged were earlier tonight. And you started it. You told him you were out to dinner with someone else. Just to get a rise out of your ex. It obviously worked.
That's okay, he figures, opening the menu and blocking your ex's number. If there's one person he does want to know about this, it's that arsehole. Maybe now he'll stay away from you.
You sit up. "Kyle?"
His eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"
"Were you serious?"
"I was."
"Even about coming over again?"
"I mean every word I say.” He hands your phone back to you and begins to get dressed.
You watch him, grasping the edge of the table. "When will you be back?"
"My squad leaves on assignment tomorrow. Don't know how long it'll be." He zips up and grabs his t-shirt. "I'll text you."
"Right, right." You suppress a sigh. "Always got a job to do."
He slings his coat over his shoulder, then pauses. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but reach his hand out to your cheek. He runs the back of his finger over your jawline. Then he disguises the tender gesture by gripping your chin and pulling it up so you're looking him in the eye.
"Behave," he tells you, voice low. "No sleeping around. No flirting of any kind. Is that clear?"
Your heart pounds. You swallow and nod.
"Good," he says, holding your gaze a moment longer.
As he leaves, closing the door behind him, he curses himself.
This is not a good idea. What's he trying to do, fix you? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This isn't going to end well. You're not good for him. But damn if he doesn't feel more satisfied than he has in years.
He has no choice. If he wants you to behave, he'll have to keep your eyes on him. Whether he’s on base or not.
...
part 1 / [part 2]
more Gaz / masterlist tag
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megalony · 23 hours
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Baby-Trapped - Part 3
Here is the latest part in my Evan Buckley series, thank you all for the amazing feedback and the ideas which have helped me keep going with this series so thank you.
Feel free to send in any more ideas and let me know what you think.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Summary: (Y/n) distances herself from Evan when the people at her college believe he shouldn't be with someone younger and inexperienced like her. But things change when she falls pregnant.
Enjoy.
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"I do believe that's mine." Folding his arms over his chest, Evan grinned and crossed one leg in front of the other as he leant against the wall.
His eyes drifted up and down (Y/n)'s frame a few times and he felt his heart jumping in his chest when she tilted her head back and looked over her shoulder at him with wide eyes. He loved the way her lips parted in surprise and she froze, caught red handed.
(Y/n) turned away from the mirror in the corner of the room and looked across at Evan like a deer caught in the headlights. But the way he smiled at her and didn't hide the lust in his eyes made adrenaline pool in her stomach.
She glanced down and looked up and down her attire which Evan was referring to.
She was wearing his shirt.
It took a few seconds for (Y/n) to tear her gaze away from Evan who looked so casual leant up against the wall. His short-sleeved shirt showing off the tattoos littering his biceps which were tense and taut. And his work shirt clung to his chest and showed off every ridge and crevace.
Turning her head, (Y/n) looked back at the reflection staring at her in the mirror. She was wearing a pair of black leggings and Evan's white button up shirt with vertical beige stripes all over. The shirt hung limply off her shoulders and hung down near her knees due to the height difference between the couple, but Evan would admit she looked great in his clothes.
"Why're you stealing my stuff, hm?" Pushing off the wall, Evan padded across the carpet until he was stood behind (Y/n).
He looped both arms around her neck and leaned down to kiss the top of her head while (Y/n) gave his forearm a squeeze.
Evan loved her wearing his clothes. He thought she looked amazing in any of his things. Especially his shirts that she went to sleep in or his hoodies when she was cold. But she was going to class now. Evan wasn't used to seeing (Y/n) go to college wearing his clothes. She usually wore his stuff when they were lounging about at home or when she wanted to wind Evan up.
"I thought it might help… but I don't think I can pass unnoticed anymore." (Y/n) trailed her hands down from Evan's arms to cup her stomach wistfully.
She hoped wearing something of Evan's might do her image a little good. That because his clothes were always baggy on her, (Y/n) could get away with another week or two of going to class and not showing that she was pregnant.
Not that it really mattered either way because Sandra had told the entire campus and (Y/n) had to tell their class teacher, just to be safe in case anything happened. Everyone in their class knew the rumours and (Y/n) wasn't embarrassed, but she liked sitting in class and not having a reason for people to stare.
When she started to show, people were going to stare and (Y/n) hated being the centre of attention. Unless it was Evan's attention she was getting.
"Good."
A gentle smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when Evan loosened his arms from around her waist and moved his hands down to her stomach. And she tilted her head back into his chest and giggled softly when he raked her shirt up and bunched it just below her bra so he could see her stomach.
His fingertips tickled her skin as he moved his palms to cup her stomach and started to draw patterns into her stomach.
They were just about twenty weeks along now and (Y/n) was properly beginning to show.
Evan was infatuated.
He loved the new shape of her stomach and the fact that her shape proved they were going to have a baby. He was bouncing off the walls, waiting to feel the baby move and start to feel them kicking.
"I wanna see our baby and show them off." Evan tilted his head to the right and attached his lips to (Y/n)'s neck which made a shiver course down her spine.
He grinned against her skin and dragged his teeth along her neck when (Y/n) kissed his temple. And he felt her hands move down to cup his wrists as she leaned back into him. This was what made it worth it. (Y/n) knew she would be able to handle the stares at college and any remarks people threw at her. Because at the end of the day, she was coming home to Evan and they were both desperate to have this baby. That was all that mattered.
"Babe?"
"Hm?" Evan opened his eyes enough to lock gazes with (Y/n) in the mirror so she knew he was listening. Before he closed his eyes again and went back to biting her neck.
"I think we can find out the gender today… what do you want me to do? Should I wait?"
(Y/n) almost felt bad when Evan groaned into her neck and pulled her back into his chest with his palms flat against her stomach. He was on shift today until late tonight and he couldn't get a shift swap so he could go along to the scan today.
The only bright side Evan had was this wasn't (Y/n)'s first scan. He had been to her first two scans with her and had heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time. Missing this scan was going to grate on his nerves and play on his mind, but it wasn't as bad as not being there for the first one or being there if (Y/n) was unwell.
But (Y/n) knew they would be able to find out the gender today and they had both agreed that they wanted to know before the birth. If Evan wasn't going to be there with her, (Y/n) wanted to know if she should wait until he was at their next scan to find out.
"I could surprise you, do a gender reveal just for you, if you like."
(Y/n) knew the moment Evan grinned into her neck that he liked the sound of that. And she felt his tongue dart across the mark he'd just bitten into her neck, soothing the slight burn he'd created beneath her skin.
She could find out the gender today and get something to do a little gender surprise for Evan. They had already said they didn't want a gender reveal party or anything like that. (Y/n) didn't even want a baby shower. They would tell the station and their family the gender when they found out, but it wasn't going to be a special occasion or anything like that.
"Okay baby, you surprise me." Evan moved one hand to cup the side of (Y/n)'s face and he tilted her head in his direction to get a kiss.
His tongue swiped at her lower lip, begging for entrance while his right hand started tracing letters and aimless swirls across (Y/n)'s stomach until she was squirming against him.
"Are we going now, then?" (Y/n) kissed him again and sucked on his lower lip before she pulled out of his arms and rolled his shirt back down over her stomach.
But her eyes rolled and she huffed when Evan leaned down and yanked the shirt back up again and pulled her closer by her hips. Her hands fell to his shoulders and she could of swooned, feeling her knees buckling when Evan leaned down and attached his lips to her stomach.
"We'll be late." Her fingers dragged through Evan's hair and she ruffled his curls, brushing them back on his head.
(Y/n) knew by now that it was pointless to tell Evan he didn't have to drop her off at college. He wanted to and (Y/n) loved the fact that he wanted to take her and pick her up and look after her. And it was easier than walking down there and working up a sweat. And morning sickness didn't combine well with a long walk from home down to college since (Y/n) was now officially moved in with Evan.
"Remember Maddie's picking you up later." Evan straightened up and pecked her temple while he curved his arm around her waist and walked behind her towards the stairs.
"Babe I can get the bus to the hospital, it's only ten minutes away." Evan dropping her anywhere was different, but (Y/n) didn't want to start bothering anyone else. And she didn't want Maddie to feel obligated or like she had to take her anywhere.
"No, Maddie's taking you. She's excited."
(Y/n) nodded and rolled the shirt back down, again, and smoothed it out around her thighs as they headed downstairs. She wouldn't refuse a lift if Maddie was happy and willing to take her, as long as she wasn't putting Maddie out of her way or ruining her day.
And it would be good to have some company at her scan, (Y/n) didn't want to go to that alone.
***
Closing her eyes, (Y/n) looped her bag higher on her shoulder and pushed ahead out the classroom door.
She was never usually the first to leave but today, (Y/n) didn't care. She wanted to go. She was a mixture of bundled nerves of excitement and panicked nerves that people were looking at her.
Arriving on campus had felt fine, it had felt great in fact, because Evan had dropped her off and he had put up a fight to get her to stay in the car and give him 'just one more kiss'. He boosted her spirits and as she left the car, (Y/n) could still feel his fingertips touching all over her stomach and she could hear his voice in her ear telling her she looked great. She looked sexy. Pregnant was a good look on her. He was addicted to her.
His words made (Y/n) feel elated and she made it to class feeling happy with herself and how she looked.
Sitting with Tina through both classes had been fine right up until (Y/n) could see Sandra aiming for them.
She didn't want to hang around and hear whatever slurrs or insults she decided to throw at her today. (Y/n) made sure she was the first out the classroom so she could leave campus before anyone tried to talk to her or Sandra tried to insult her.
Her eyes dithered between the hall and the corridor on her left and after a split second, (Y/n) turned left and sprinted to the girl's toilets.
It was a relief that the toilets were empty.
(Y/n) slumped her bag down on the cubicle floor, kicked the door shut behind her and crouched down just in time to throw up her lunch. It would be best not to tell Evan she had thrown up again when she next spoke to him. He wouldn't be pleased and he would start to worry. (Y/n) didn't want to worry him while he was on shift.
She would make sure she ate something substantial for tea and had some fruit and sugar to boost her system.
A groan tumbled past her lips and her knees shook as she slowly tried to push herself back up when she was done throwing up. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and rummaged around in her bag for the chewing gum she stole from Evan for this very reason.
Leaning her back up against the cubicle, (Y/n) chewed the gum and sighed quietly to herself.
Her hands moved down to cup her stomach and she glared down as if she could see through her stomach to the baby that was making her body this disorientated. But as (Y/n) danced her hands around her small bump, she huffed and dropped her arms down. It didn't feel the same as when Evan touched her stomach. It didn't feel as good.
She put the gum in the bin and hooked her bag over her shoulder but when she walked out the cubicle, she gasped and stumbled on her back foot.
Carla.
One of Sandra's cronies was leaning against the cubicle wall with her hands clasped behind her back and a sickly sweet smile on her face. She wasn't as bad as Sandra, but (Y/n) didn't get along with any of their little cliché. Carla was nosey, she was the one going round telling everyone that (Y/n) was dating an older man
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Bypassing Carla, (Y/n) quickly washed her hands and moved towards the door. She wasn't hanging around for an insult.
"So it's true then. Should I say congratulations?"
Carla caught the door before it slammed in her face and she hurried to keep up the pace with (Y/n) who stormed down the hall. She wanted to leave. She had to hurry up and see if Maddie was outside so they could get to the appointment on time. (Y/n) was tempted to just run straight to the bus stop and be done with everyone here if it would get her out of this conversation any quicker.
"Does your fireman know yet? Must be a shock, being tied down to you-"
"I think my fella knows by now, don't you?" Stopping in her tracks, (Y/n) turned to the left and looked at Carla with raised brows. She moved her hands down and cupped her stomach, pressing Evan's shirt down into her waist so her bump was evident.
Evan would have to be pretty distant, clueless or pain silly if he didn't know by now that (Y/n) was pregnant. Not that it was anyone's business but theirs, but (Y/n) was tired. She was tired of the questions and the looks and the petty remarks.
No more loose clothes. No more worrying. They can all see what they like.
If they were all so interested, (Y/n) would revert back to wearing her clothes and only wear Evan's clothes when she had nothing else that fit or when she wanted to tease him in the bedroom. She would come to class in her tight, stretchy tops that showed off her stomach. She would wear her jeans and smile when they didn't zip up over her bump anymore.
She wouldn't look or panic if the girls could see Evan dropping her off at college. And she would smile and feel her heart ignite when he attached himself to her and whisper how sexy he thought she looked.
If they were this interested, (Y/n) would let them all stare. It would be better and much easier than trying to explain herself when she didn't have to.
This was her baby and she was happy to be having Evan's baby, there was no reason for (Y/n) to feel worried or embarrassed about what people would say.
"Go bother someone else Carla, I'm busy." With that being said, (Y/n) pushed ahead and hurried out the doors onto campus.
She wasn't sure what type of car she was supposed to be looking for. Evan neglected to mention what car his sister drove and (Y/n) suddenly felt too awkward to try and ring Maddie and ask if she was here and what car to look out for. But her panic was all for nothing when she got towards the drop off lane just outside the campus.
(Y/n) could easily see a familiar face grinning through the window and a hand waving and beckoning her over. Problem solved.
Hurrying over, (Y/n) opened the door and slid down into the passenger seat. It was a change to have to lean down to get into Maddie's car rather than how she had to hike up to get into Evan's jeep.
Evan had started joking that in another two months or less, he was going to have to start lifting (Y/n) in and out of the jeep.
She hoped that wasn't going to be the case.
"Hi." (Y/n) smiled softly and placed her bag down in between her feet, forcing herself not to look out the window in case any of the girls were looking. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they were upsetting her. They couldn't bring down (Y/n)'s mood. Not today.
"Hey, are we ready?" Maddie reached across and gave (Y/n)'s thigh a squeeze before she pulled away from the curb.
Her smile was enough to brighten (Y/n)'s mood and make her feel more at ease and comfortable. She had been surprised how quickly Maddie had taken to her and accepted her as a sister. (Y/n) thought it would of been harder than this to win her over, knowing how close she and Evan were.
"You didn't have to do this, you know." (Y/n)'s voice was soft and quiet as she looked across at Maddie.
She wanted her to know she was grateful for the lift, she wasn't taking this for granted. (Y/n) didn't expect Maddie to take her anywhere, she wasn't used to having siblings or a close family connection like Evan had with his team. It was strange, but it was also lovely to meet people and find she could talk to them and maybe even rely on them.
"I told Buck I'd be happy to drop you off or pick you up. Besides, we're not having you walk all that way to the doctors, we need to look after you."
A spark of adrenaline fluttered to life in (Y/n)'s stomach and she dipped her head down, glancing at her stomach for a few seconds. She was very lucky. (Y/n) couldn't begin to imagine what it would feel like if her fears had come true and Evan's friends and family thought of her the same way the girls in her class seemed to think of her.
It didn't take them long to get to the hospital and (Y/n) sucked in a deep breath, trying to hide her smile when Maddie looped their arms together as they walked inside.
When they headed into the maternity ward and sat down in the waiting room, (Y/n) turned to look at the elder girl.
"Would… would you come into the scan with me? I don't wanna go in on my own."
She could see the surprise on Maddie's face, but it was as if she started to melt. Her brown eyes softened and her cheeks puffed up as she smiled and reached across to take (Y/n)'s hand.
"Of course I will."
(Y/n) had been into both her other scans with Evan. She didn't fancy going in on her own. She wanted someone there by her side to share the joy and the anticipation and help her feel calm.
Maddie ran her hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm for a few seconds since their arms were still locked together. But when she looked (Y/n) up and down, her smile changed into a smirk and she trailed her fingertips over (Y/n)'s shoulder and gave her collar a small tug.
"I thought I recognised that shirt." She muttered softly. She realised after a few seconds that it was Evan's shirt. That was why it looked so familiar and hung off of (Y/n)'s frame like she had shrunk and lost weight. But it did suit her. It made (Y/n) look a little small but very fashionable.
"Doesn't really hide it, does it?" (Y/n) murmured wistfully, moves her hands up and down her bump.
But she grinned when Maddie leaned over her and dared to rub her hand up and down her stomach for a few seconds.
"You don't have to hide, you're not a teenager, you've got nothing to be worried about. You look lovely, show it off."
"Evan said something similar."
It was only college and the girls in her class that were making (Y/n) uneasy about showing off her stomach. But she could feel her resolve ebbing away each day and Carla had topped it off today. (Y/n) didn't have to hide. She wasn't a young girl still in school wondering how she was going to bring up a child.
(Y/n) was in college and she was nearly done with her degree. She was in a stable relationship with someone she loved. She and Evan lived together, they were happy and they were doing this together. There was no reason for (Y/n) to feel worried or ashamed. Other girls on campus already had children and were taking their degrees at the same time.
And all the timing was working out. If (Y/n) passed her classes and got her degree on time, she would be done with college just before the baby was born. Then she could have some time off before she found herself a job at the hospital or a local doctor's office. (Y/n) could have her degree, have some time to herself to be with Evan and their baby and then get a job and be in the swing of things.
When her name was called out, the girls got up together and walked through after the nurse.
It didn't take long to run through the usual little tasks when they got in there. (Y/n) hopped on the scales, answered a few questions and then rolled her shirt up and tucked it into her bra so the midwife could check and measure her stomach.
"That all looks in order, shall we take a look at baby?"
(Y/n) kept her shirt rolled up and she smiled softly when she realised Maddie was looking over at her stomach.
She sat up on the bed and was grateful when Maddie took her hand and stood beside her. Both their eyes locked on the monitor and (Y/n) gave Maddie's hand a squeeze when the grainy grey and black image appeared on the screen.
It had been the plan for Evan and (Y/n) to get a scan photo, find a good frame and give it to Maddie as a present. That was how they were going to tell her she was going to be an auntie. That all went up in the air when (Y/n) wasn't well and (Y/n) still hated how Maddie found out, even if she had still been so excited and thrilled when she found out. Their original plan would have been much better.
But having Maddie here to witness the scan felt like they were making up for that failed plan and it made (Y/n) feel better.
"Oh, look." Maddie pressed her free hand to her chest and tilted her head to one side as she looked lovingly at the screen. That was her little niece or nephew. That was the child Maddie was going to spoil when they arrived. That would be the baby she would parade around and tell everyone was her little brother's first child.
She would take them out shopping and to play centres and to the cinema and on little dates out and about. Maddie would do anything and everything for them and she just knew they were going to have a much more loving and fulfilling home than what her and Evan had grown up with.
Maddie had tried to make sure Evan had felt loved and appreciated when he was growing up. She became his mother rather than his sister and she knew Evan was going to make sure his child knew he loved them to the end of the Earth. He would do everything for them that Maddie had done for him.
"Baby is a healthy size, and everything looks to be in order. Do you want to know the gender, or is it a surprise?"
"Can we know, please?"
(Y/n) gave Maddie's hand another squeeze and leaned up on her elbows, unable to look back at the monitor. Her gaze was solely focused on her stomach as she waited to know if she was going to be having a baby boy or a girl.
"Okay… it's a baby girl, congratulations."
A shiver coursed down (Y/n)'s spine while her lips curled into a wide smile. It was a little strange to hear a sincere congratulations after Carla's little remark earlier, but (Y/n) couldn't focus on that anymore.
She was having a girl. She was going to see Evan with a daughter in his arms. He was going to spoil her rotten. (Y/n) knew he had secretly been hoping for a little girl, although seeing him with a boy would have been a treat to see if a baby boy would look and take after him.
"A niece!" Maddie whispered triumphantly as she gave a small tug on (Y/n)'s hand and squinted at the monitor.
Sitting herself up, (Y/n) cleaned the gel from her stomach and slowly rolled her shirt back down. She gratefully took the scan copies the midwife printed, barely listening to her say about her next appointment in three weeks. All she could think about was going home and waiting for Evan to come home so she could tell him.
How was she going to tell him? What would be the best way to surprise him with this?
She looped her arm back through Maddie's as they walked out the room, both in a daze, staring at the scan photos they each had in their hands.
"Oh, Buck's going to be so excited. How are you going to tell him?"
"I don't know, I wanna surprise him somehow… what do you think?"
(Y/n) had never seen such a grin spread over Maddie's face and she seemed to pick up the pace as she steered them both back towards the car.
"I think we need to go shopping."
***
"What about this?"
Turning to the left, (Y/n) looked across at Maddie to see what she was holding out.
The pair of them had gone into town to look for a few things to get for the baby. (Y/n) had decided on doing a little gift bag for Evan with a few items inside to surprise him with the fact that they were having a girl. And so far, (Y/n) had found a dusty pink knitted blanket with roses stitched into each corner. She decided that once they'd settled on a name, she would embroider the name onto the blanket to make it more personalised.
Maddie had already found a lovely pair of purple dolly shoes. They just needed a few more things and then they would be all set to surprise Evan.
(Y/n) looked over to see what Maddie had found and she couldn't help the wide grin that spread across her face when she read it.
It was a men's large, jet black shirt with a circle of flowers in middle and 'Girl Dad!' written in cursive across the centre. It was a novelty shirt but it was definitely something Evan would wear and it would be a dead giveaway that they were having a baby girl.
"That's perfect."
Maddie looped the shirt over her arm and did a quick sweep round the shop and moved towards the baby clothing. "What about some of the Disney stuff?" They both knew Evan was a sucker for Disney movies so a little outfit would be perfect to add to the gift.
(Y/n) held the basket out so Maddie could place the shirt and shoes in there and smiled before she moved over to the other rack of baby clothes.
It felt good to be out and about with someone other than Tina. (Y/n) didn't have a lot of close friends and Tina was the only person (Y/n) felt comfortable going out with, other than Evan. But having Maddie as a friend and now as a big sister was comforting and (Y/n) was gaining a lot of close friends in the people Evan worked with.
She felt herself becoming lost in her thoughts and it took a lot of effort for (Y/n) to stop her hands from moving down to her stomach. She was bubbling over with excitement about telling Evan. It was all she wanted to do. She wanted to see him grin and move to touch her stomach and say how happy he was.
"Oh look, it's mummy-to-be."
That shrill voice sent shivers crawling down (Y/n)'s spine. She didn't dare turn around.
Her breath caught in her throat and her blood ran cold and dwindled down to her feet as the baby did a summersault in her stomach.
Why did they have to be here? Why did Sandra have to be here at the exact same time as (Y/n)? Wasn't it bad enough they shared the same classes at college and Sandra thought she had the right to follow (Y/n) around and tease her? Why did she have to carry it on outside of college?
Couldn't she just ignore (Y/n) and carry on with her day?
(Y/n) could feel tears prickling in the corners of her eyes already and she deadlocked her hand around one of the onesies she had pulled off the rack. She tried to push away the tears and swallow down the lump in her throat before she dared to look over her shoulder and see who was walking up towards her.
It was Sandra and two other girls, Mary and Ebony. It was strange to see Sandra without Carla, but then again, (Y/n) had never bumped into them outside of campus before. She didn't know who they hung around with and she didn't want to know either. (Y/n) wanted nothing to do with them.
"Where's your fireman?" Ebony leaned her head to one side and did a quick look up and down (Y/n)'s frame, scrutinising her.
It took all of (Y/n)'s strength not to bind her arms around her stomach to hide her daughter from their prying eyes. She didn't have to be worried or ashamed. This was none of their business.
Trying to hold her head up and keep a calm, unphased expression, (Y/n) pursed her lips and gave them one glance before she looked down at her basket.
"At work. Where's your partner?" If they thought asking these type of questions was normal then (Y/n) would throw them right back. If they could ask her and prod and be nosey then so could (Y/n).
"Will he be at graduation?" Ebony pestered, totally ignoring (Y/n)'s question.
But there was no time for (Y/n) to respond before Sandra cackled and tossed her head back as if she'd heard something funny. She looked (Y/n) up and down again before moving her hand towards her stomach. (Y/n) wasn't sure whether Sandra was just trying to point towards the baby or if she wouold actually dare to reach out and touch her, but she didn't want to find out. She took a step back before Sandra could get too close.
"Be realistic, Eb. He'll be babysitting to save the embarrassment."
That hurt.
(Y/n) could feel her stomach twisting again and she sank her teeth down into her lip to stop herself from making a noise or crying. She couldn't let them see they were getting to her. It was only a few words from people who didn't know her. People who had the nerve to talk about Evan as if they knew him intimately and knew what was going through his head.
If they only spoke to him they would realise how thrilled he was and how angry he would be if they spoke like this in front of him.
"I'm sure you'd know all about embarrassing moments." (Y/n) nodded at Sandra before she stepped around her and moved to walk away.
She wasn't sure where she was walking or which direction she wanted to be going in, but she just wanted to be away from them. Today had been a good day. Two easy classes, a capable workload to take home and work through, an amazing scan. And now she was out with someone she classed as her sister trying to have a fun, stress-free afternoon. They couldn't walk in and ruin it.
"So, you're going through with it then? Trying to keep that fireman tied to you with a baby. It'd make him look horrid if he walked out on a little girl when she's having his kid- presuming it's his, of course. Not like he's got much of a choice but to stay."
Her hand balled into a fist at her side and she spun back around to face the three gargoyles that wouldn't leave her alone.
"Why is this any of your business? Why don't you go speak to my fella, see for yourself how happy he is so you can stop worrying about him so much." Her voice wobbled and rose with the spite she could feel crawling up her throat.
This was nothing to do with them. If they were so concerned about how Evan was feeling about all of this (Y/n) would gladly introduce them to him so they could see for themselves that Evan was overjoyed.
They could find out that Evan had already told his parents and everyone he worked with. They could see that he had sorted his annual leave with Bobby so he could be home when the baby was born and spend two weeks with (Y/n) after she gave birth and be with her and the baby. They could talk to him and see that he was already starting to get things ready for the baby's arrival.
"He's happy that an inexperienced girl's having his baby? Can you even look after a child, or is that gonna be his job too?"
A shudder ran down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt a hand on her shoulder and for a moment, she coiled in on herself and shrunk down.
Panic surged through her veins at the thought of Carla or another one of the plastic squad appearing behind her out of thin air to gang up on her. They wouldn't hurt her, that wasn't their style. But their belligerent yapping and snarky, rude and hurtful words were getting too much now.
But when (Y/n) looked over her shoulder, she sighed and leaned back into Maddie.
She felt Maddie's hand tighten around her shoulder while Maddie placed her other hand down on her hip and glared at the three girls in front of them. She looked them up and down with narrowed eyes and huffed as if she thought they were nothing much to look at. She did not look impressed.
"And just what experience do you have to be talking to (Y/n) like that?"
When none of them answered, Maddie gave them another look up at down before she turned (Y/n) in the other direction to guide her away from those girls, whoever they were.
But two feet away, a sudden thought came over Maddie and she leaned over near (Y/n)'s ear. "Are they from your class? The girls Buck talked about?"
She'd almost forgotten the fact that Evan had told her (Y/n) was a bit anxious going to classes. She remembered he said some girls in class found out about (Y/n)'s private life and were teasing her because of it. Maddie couldn't believe they were in college and acting like they were little school girls who thought it was okay to pick on someone just because she was choosing to life her life the way she wanted.
"It doesn't matter. We just need something for the baby and a gift bag." Reaching behind her, (Y/n) gave Maddie's wrist a squeeze.
She felt better already now that Maddie was back with her. She felt confident having her sister with her. The snotty girls wouldn't dare say anything to her or torment her when she was with family. If Evan was here they wouldn't have approached (Y/n) at all.
But (Y/n) spun round when she felt Maddie let go of her and her heart lurched up into her throat when Maddie walked back towards the three of them.
"Excuse me."
Maddie placed her hands on her hips and began to tap her foot against the floor until all three of them turned to face her. She was older than them. She and (Y/n) were the mature people here and Maddie wasn't going to let them get away with this. If they wanted to be children, Maddie would scold and treat them like little girls.
"You do realise that to be a nurse, you can't be judgemental? I pray for the teenage mother who goes to the hospital and gets you as her nurse, passing judgements left right and centre. You won't make it very far with so little wit and understanding. Grow up."
With that being said, Maddie turned on her heels, her hair whipping over her shoulder, and walked back over to (Y/n). She linked their arms together and guided them both towards the other baby section. They were here to look for things for Maddie's niece and she was going to be proud of that.
Leaning her head on Maddie's shoulder, (Y/n) gave her arm a squeeze and cuddled into her side. "Thank you."
***
Opening her eyes, (Y/n) tried to clear her blurry vision. Her cheek nuzzled into the pillow and she strained her ears to listen to the noises she could hear.
The front door being locked. Loud, thudding footsteps going into the bathroomand then retreating a few moments later.
Evan was home.
(Y/n) found herself grinning into her pillow and her arms wrapped around Evan's pillow that she had been hugging for the last few hours. She wasn't sure what movie was playing on the tv, she had been drifting in and out of sleep for the last two hours but (Y/n) didn't want to lay and go to sleep yet. Not when she knew Evan would be home at some point late into the night. She didn't like sleeping without him.
She could hear Evan mulling about downstairs before she heard him jogging up the stairs. His height and stocky build made Evan heavy-footed and easy to hear when he was milling about the apartment.
She moved her hand to rub her eyes and lifted her head to look for Evan.
He moved faster than (Y/n) anticipated.
A gasp bubbled past her lips and she grinned when Evan practically ran to the bed and climbed on top of her. He crawled up the end of the bed so fast (Y/n) didn't see him move and he flopped down on top of her, hovering with his nose just barely touching her own.
"Hi," (Y/n) laughed and reached up to cup Evan's face while she felt his hands slipping around her frame.
She wriggled around beneath him, huffing as she turned to lay on her back instead of her side so she could look up at him. And Evan settled himself between her legs, pushing his hips down into hers like he was trying to imprint her into the mattress.
"Hi baby. How'd it go, you and bubba okay?" Evan leaned up a little so he could look down at (Y/n)'s stomach before his eyes went back up to hers.
He could see the tiredness washed across her face and how hard it was for her to keep her eyes open, but she was livening up now that he was home. He had been bouncing off the walls all shift today. Evan just wanted to get home so he could know how the scan went and know what they were having.
He'd messaged (Y/n) mid-afternoon and he tried to get her to ring him so he could find out how it went. All he got told was he'd have to wait until he came home for 'his surprise'.
"It went well, bubba's fine and healthy."
(Y/n) groaned and dug her fingers into Evan's neck when he kissed her so deeply he was pushing her back into the pillow.
She wriggled around, squirming and trying not to giggle against his lips when he tugged the cover down and wedged his hand between them so he could try and find her stomach. His fingers danced across her stomach and started making aimless patterns while he stole every ounce of air from (Y/n)'s lungs until she was seeing stars.' "So… can I find out the surprise now?" Evan spoke breathlessly against her lips, stealing another kiss and swiping his tongue across her top lip. He nudged their noses together and looked down at (Y/n) eagerly like a child waiting for Christmas.
He watched (Y/n) flop her arms down beside her on the bed and she tilted her head to the side to glance at the bedside alarm clock.
"Babe, it's nearly midnight… you can't wait until morning?" (Y/n) reached out to card her fingers through Evan's hair and started to untangle his curls. She smiled when he leaned into the touch and a deep groan passed his lips when she gave a small tug on his hair.
"Baby," He whined, tilting his head back while those puppy-dog eyes worked magic on melting (Y/n)'s heart and turning her stomach to mush. "I've waited all day, and Maddie knows, she's been messaging me all day. Please? I wanna know."
"Okay."
She had made him wait all day and she had no idea Maddie had been messaging Evan, clearly trying to wind her brother up because she knew before him. And Evan was wound up tight and hyped up like a kid on sugar. He wasn't going to be able to sleep for a while yet and he was desperate to find out.
Tilting his chin up, (Y/n) kissed him and sucked on his lower lip before she gave him a nudge and slowly sat up with him.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and heaved herself up to her feet, feeling like she could sleep standing up. Her back clicked into place and shivers rolled down her arms but she grinned when Evan's hands found her hips.
He groaned something incoherent against her neck and squeezed her hips as he climbed off the bed behind her. And (Y/n) realised he must have said something referring to what she was wearing. She had a pair of his loungewear shorts and cotton shirts on, both of which hung off her frame and showed off her stomach.
Evan glued his chest up against (Y/n)'s back and pressed his lips down against the top of her head. He followed her lead as she headed over to the stairs and guided him down, turning the lights back on as they walked.
(Y/n) dragged her hand through her hair, brushing a few locks out of her eyes as she led Evan through into the living room and over to the sofa.
She flopped down on the sofa and curled her legs up beneath her, sinking back into the cushions while she pointed at the sparkling silver gift bag on the coffee table. It was quite lucky that Evan had gone straight upstairs when he came home. If he had come into the living room first and saw the bag, (Y/n) knew he would have ended up opening the gift without her because he was so excited.
Evan excitedly perched down on the end of the sofa and motioned to the bag with such a wide grin he could barely see. "Can I?"
He rolled his lips together and reached out for the bag, pausing for a moment when (Y/n) shuffled over and leaned up on her knees. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and kissed the back of his head, leaning against his back so she could look over his shoulder.
His hands were trembling from excitement as he opened the bag and took a peek inside, reaching in to take out the first item he saw.
It was a knitted blanket. The material was soft and stretchy and felt like it had been made with cotton rather than with knitting wool. The colour was blushing pink. It had a dark red velvet ribbon sewn around the edging and in each corner there were crocheted roses, mostly red but two were dark fuchsia.
Folding the blanket carefully, he placed it down on the coffee table beside the bag, unable to refrain from smiling as he looked back in the bag.
Purple boots. So small they barely fit in the palm of Evan's hand, with little bows tied neatly on the front.
The next item made him laugh. (Y/n) tucked her face into his neck and kissed the junction beneath his jaw, feeling the way his throat vibrated as he laughed and held up the shirt to read it. A jet black shirt with roses and flowers, some of which looked similar to the tattoos Evan had on his chest and up his arms. And right in the centre, it said 'Girl Dad' in bright cursive letters.
He looked back into the bag and took out the last item laid at the bottom. A pale silver onesie with a crown in the centre and the words 'Daddy's Princess' written across the middle.
(Y/n) sucked in a deep breath when Evan twisted round so he was facing her. His hands moved down to cup the back of her thighs and he pulled her over until she was sat on his lap with her arms curved around the back of his neck.
She could see tears in his eyes and shivers ran up and down her nerves when Evan moved his hands up and as quick as anything, he pulled her shirt off. He tossed it somewhere across the other side of the room so there was nothing in the way of her stomach.
"We're having a girl? I'm gonna have a daughter?"
All the energy Evan had seemed to push through into his voice and leave his body oddly calm. He waited for (Y/n) to nod and he grinned against her when she kissed his lips.
He couldn't wait to tell everyone. He could go back to the station and tell them all that he was having a baby girl. He was going to have a daughter. He could tell Bobby he was going to have a granddaughter, since Evan thought of Bobby and Athena as his parents. He could see Eddie and Chris tomorrow and tell them he was having a girl, that Eddie would have a niece since Evan was Uncle Buck to Chris and he wanted Eddie to be a godparent to his daughter.
If someone on a call asked Evan if he had children, he could proudly tell that that he had a daughter. At the end of each shift, he was going to have two girls to go home to.
Pulling back, Evan wormed his arms back around her waist, pressing his palms flush against her skin while he leaned down until his lips and nose pressed against the top of her bump.
"Hi baby girl."
197 notes · View notes
idyllic-ghost · 2 days
Note
I've been thinking about woozi aftercare 😫😫 like after an intense session imagine him taking care of you and giving you so many compliments especially if you haven't seen each other in a long time (reader she/her)
ohhh i can see that! i do see him as a very shy person, the type of guy who wouldn't be able to speak his mind in the moment when it comes to love (i do think he's good at communicating love, his songs are his track record, but that he has to sit down and think them over first), but in that moment with so much going on i definitely see it🤭
warnings: not proofed, implied smut, aftercare, MDNI
Your legs are still tangled together, your heavy breaths synchronizing in a harmonious rhythm. He's still inside of you, keeping the close proximity for as long as possible, and your arms are still around his neck - softly playing with his hair. Jihoon lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a whimper as he leans his forehead against yours. The bedsheets are clinging to your sweaty limbs, but you can't bring yourself to start cleaning up.
"Thank you," he whispers before giving you a chaste kiss.
The energy changed in a matter of seconds. Animalistic grunts turned into soft panting, violent movement turned into gentle touches, and the look in his eyes turned from lust to pure love. You had missed this, you had missed him - both of these sides of him. Jihoon had been gone for months on tour, and now he's finally with you again - not just over the phone, or on a face time call, but here with you, in real life.
"Why are you thanking me?" You brush away the hair hanging in front of his face, a playful smile appearing on your lips.
"I don't know..." He huffs and hides his face in the crook of your neck, where he presses a few loving pecks. "You're so beautiful... I just can't believe that you're with me. I've missed you so much."
You wrap your arms tighter around him, the small amount of movement had both of you wincing. He got home two-to-three hours ago, you couldn't quite tell, and the two of you had been at it ever since. It was surprising to see him like this, but you shouldn't be surprised considering the amount of racy photos you had sent him for the past few months. Safe to say, you are more than sensitive right now.
"I've missed you, too," you murmur and then, almost brittle, say, "You don't have to leave soon, do you?"
Jihoon moves to look at you again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He reaches out to your face, brushing something off your cheek with his thumb - you don't know if there was something actually there, or if it was an excuse to caress your cheek.
"If you're thinking about that now, I didn't do a good enough job." He frowns, a soft pout forming on his lips - it's been so long since you've seen him act cute.
"I just don't want to fall asleep now if you'll be gone in the morning," you say.
"I won't be gone," he quickly replies. "I'm staying with you- I've taken a few days off."
It's almost cute how much he's trying to reassure you. His flushed face and his messy hair, combined with his wide eyes, makes you laugh - any worry about the next day disappearing completely. Jihoon quiets down and a smile settles on his lips. He presses a final kiss on your cheek before moving to get up.
"I'll clean up, okay? Wait here," he says, as if you're capable to move at all.
"Hurry back," you chirp as you pull the covers tighter around you.
In a matter of seconds, Jihoon comes back with a warm towel to help clean you up. He can't meet your eyes as he brings the towel to your thighs, so different from how he had treated you a few minutes ago. The shyness has apparently not hit him just yet, as he soon crawls back into bed and moves you to lay on his broad chest. One of his hands are on the top of your head, keeping it in the crook of his neck, while the other is on your back - drawing circles on your sensitive skin with his fingers.
"You're so good for me," he says. "I'm sorry for being away so much."
"It's fine," you answer, "as long as I get to experience you like this every time you come back."
"Noted." The chuckle he lets out almost sounds more like a scoff as it is quickly cut off by a yawn.
His fingers subconsciously drum against your back to some unknown melody. You find yourself wanting to ask what song it was - if it was something old, something new, or an old unreleased track - but Jihoon seems keen on not talking about work tonight. You can't blame him.
"I'm happy you're back," you murmur and nuzzle your face closer to him. "The bed is always cold without you."
Jihoon smells like the laundry detergent you told him you usually buy, his skin radiates the kind of warmth that seeps into your soul, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken at your words. You don't have to look at his face to know that he's turned red.
"I should get you a heating blanket," he grumbles in an attempt to hide his fluster.
"I like this more," you counter.
He removes his hand from your back to place over his eyes as a soft breath leaves his lips. You look up at him with a teasing smile and, as you expected, his ears are bright red.
"Jihoon." Your voice gets his attention and he removes his hand from his face to look at you. "I love you."
His flustered expression changes to a warm and much softer one. You shuffle around until your face is right above his, and you press a kiss on his lips. It's short, and Jihoon must think it's too short as he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.
"I love you, too." His eyes stay closed, as if he can't bring himself to look at you or as if he's still expecting you to kiss him again.
You give into him, pressing another kiss on his lips as your hands cup his face. Jihoon smiles against your lips as he gets what he wants, and takes you by surprise as he manhandles you onto your back. His eyes, although not as intense as before, has a lustful spark in them again.
"Again?" you ask incredulously.
"I have to make up for lost time," he argues and presses a kiss to your cheek.
"It's late, aren't you tired?"
"I'm never too tired for you," he murmurs before turning his attention to your body for the umpteenth time that night.
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