#just two cosy guys | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rinhaler · 5 months

Text

𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

would you fuck your high school bully if you got set up on a blind date with him? if he was hot, probably, right?? ... right?

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ex bully!rensuke kunigami x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: a concept that has rotted my brain for weeks now. ty to @chososdoll for beta reading as per ♡ Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, pro player!kunigami, pleasure dom!kunigami, consent check, overstimulation ♡, multiple orgasms (duh!), pussy eating ♡, fingering, slight nipple play, dumbification, size difference, vaginal sex, dacryphilia ♡, enemies to lovers?, pool sex ♡, skinny dipping, morning sex ♡, wake up blowjob, shush kink?, praise, reader has pubes! (landing strip), calls your pussy 'she', bullying mention, pet names (baby, princess). Words: 15.1k

“This seems a little…”

“What?”

“Sad.” you laugh, repositioning yourself on the couch beside your best friend as you watch your fourth horror film of the evening. She tuts, but not before gesturing that she needed a refill on her wine. So, you reach over to the side table and start taking off the lid for her. “I don’t know. It feels a bit desperate, no?”

“No!” Maisie objects.

She can’t remember the last time she heard you gush about a guy. And honestly, neither can you. It’s been forever since you went on a date. And it’s been even longer since you got laid. You shake the thought away as you pour the red liquid into her empty glass.

You’re happy alone, for now, you think. It’s not like you feel lonely. Admittedly, it isn’t the best feeling when you have to listen to all of your friends talk about their date nights or cosy nights in with their partners. It isn’t the end of the world, though. Maybe happy is a strong word to describe how you feel.

You’re content being alone.

“I’m not saying you have to marry the guy,” she continues, lifting the wine to her lips when you finish filling her glass. “Just meet him. He’s so sweet, and he’s gorgeous!”

“You fuck him then!” you laugh. She takes the opportunity to flaunt her engagement ring that she hasn’t even had for a week yet. You roll your eyes, but laugh, grabbing her hand so you can examine it again. It is beautiful. Are you a bad friend? Because the stab of jealousy you suddenly feel is almost painful. “I’ve never been on a blind date. I didn’t even realise they were still a thing, why won’t you just show me him?”

“I promise he’s extremely sexy. Trust me, if I wasn’t engaged I’d definitely take him for a ride.” she giggles, and you laugh back at that. She has similar taste to you, so you’re sure you’ll feel the same way when you see him. It’s intimidating though. You’re putting complete faith in her that she won’t fuck you over. And then, you realise, you’re thinking about it as if you’ve already accepted. Maybe it’s a sign. You should just take the plunge. “I don’t want to tell you too much and spoil the fun, but—”

“I’ll do it.”

“Y- really?!” she wiggles a little closer to you in excitement, her wine sloshing in her glass as she approaches. “I’m gonna text him now! Eeeeeeek!” she squeals, putting her wine down and picking up her phone. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her fingers move so fast as she texts the mystery man.

You want to pry for more information, but you know her too well. She’s stubborn. And the blind date aspect for her is too exciting. There’s no use trying to get her to spill. Though it doesn’t stop you from attempting to extract even a slither of information.

“How do you know him?”

“He’s a client.” she pays you no mind, perfectly manicured fingers tap away at her phone as she formulates a text message.

You’re surprised, for multiple reasons. You hadn’t expected her to answer that truthfully, let alone with no hesitation. It came so easy for her to say; which means one of two things. Either, it’s true, or, she had a well-crafted lie prepared in case you asked that very question. But if it’s true… that’s interesting.

She’s a social media manager. And while her clients aren’t necessarily A-Listers, they aren’t exactly nobody’s, either.

“Oh my God, is he a footballer?” you smile, widely. She peers up from her phone and you find it hard to read her expression. She’s always had a good poker face, but you’ve known her long enough to recognise her tells. And when she licks her lips, you have your answer. “AH! Is he rich? Oh I bet he’s gorgeous, fuck, is he shredded? Like—”

“The horny jumped out!” she laughs, and you playfully hit her arm before laughing along with her. She doesn’t say anything else about it. Now, she is fully committed to the blind element of the date. “I’ll drop you off, I’ll tell him what you’re wearing so he knows it’s you. He said he’s free Thursday night, does that work?”

“Sure.”

“Great! So 9PM on Thursday.”

“Um…” you hesitate. Fucking 9PM? You know you aren’t that old, you’re in your mid-twenties for crying out loud, but that seems very late. You’re usually tired by 10 o’clock. But you refuse to risk her chastising you for being boring. So, you suck it up with a beaming smile, “Perfect.” it almost hurts to say.

She claps, enthusiastically, before picking up her abandoned wine glass again. You’re both silent, fixated on the movie. But you spot Maisie out of the corner of your eye finish her drink in a hearty swig. You don’t comment, though, still trying your damnedest to focus on the movie. It’s too late, though, you’ve missed most of the plot since she started plotting and preparing your upcoming date. You don’t dare break the silence, though. She looks utterly engrossed.

However your own attempt at concentrating is thwarted when you hear her glass land a little too harshly onto her coaster. It doesn’t smash, thankfully, but you’re both staring at each other after that.

“I haven’t got a fucking clue what’s happening in this.” she admits, and you laugh, agreeing. “Let’s go plan your outfit for Thursday!” she suggests, throwing the blanket you’re sharing off her body before walking hastily to your bedroom.

This is so her.

She’s more excited for this date than you are.

“Deep breaths, you look gorgeous!” she assures you, holding your hand as you squeeze it again and again to calm your nerves. “For what it’s worth, by the way, he’s my sweetest client. He’s really respectful and kind, a lot of them can be rude but he’s never been like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! He’s really understanding.” she nods, eagerly. “Do you want me to come in and wait with you?”

“No, um… c-can you wait and let me know when he’s coming in? Or, just be here in case I get stood up.”

“Don’t even think that, he’s excited! He’ll be here. I’ll drop him so fast if he does, but I know he won’t.” she assures you.

You take another deep breath before smiling at her. She reaches over to give you a hug. It’s a tight, reassuring squeeze that makes you feel better for a fleeting moment. She waves like a child when you step out of the car, and she wolf whistles before you close the door.

If nothing else, at least you look good. You both agreed that there’s nothing like a little black dress, and your high heels accentuate your legs. They clack as you stomp across the pavement. And when you realise your steps are in time with your heartbeat you think it wise to slow down.

As the entrance to the restaurant comes into view, you look down the street and give your friend one final wave. Though, really, it’s meaningless. You know as soon as you sit down you’ll pull your phone out and start texting her in a panic. The maître d’ welcomes you with a beaming smile, checking the reservation list for the booking strategically made under Maisie’s name.

Still so committed to the blindness of the date.

It’s sort of exciting to think he doesn’t know anything about you, either. Though it’s scaring you slightly that he could take one look at you and turn around. And you won’t know until it’s too late. You won’t know until you’re being pestered to order after telling the wait staff that your date hasn’t arrived yet several times.

They’ll have to be polite despite how humiliating it is to tell you that other patrons need to be seated and seen to and you’re wasting their time. You’ll have to swallow your pride and leave. You can’t possibly eat alone after shouldering such a burning humiliation.

Oh God.

You text Maisie. And your fingers tremble as you type out the message. Telling her that you cannot go through with this and that you’re about to leave. A barrage of texts come through as she tries to give you a pep talk. But your anxiety flares and your leg begins to bounce as you try and shake the nervous energy from it.

Part of you thinks it’s best to stay sober, but your body is screaming differently. One drink won’t hurt, you decide, ordering two glasses of wine in case your date ever turns up.

And then you remember who he is. Or who he might be. He’s a client of your best friend, the social media manager. He must have some level of fame to need that representation. You’re pretty sold on the idea that he is likely a footballer. And through this thought process you manage to relax, if only a little. If he’s famous, he could be busy.

You decide to offer him some grace.

Though you should have given him the time to be really late before you got so worked up. You’ve only been seated for three minutes, after all. It’s not like he’s stood you up for an hour. You decide you’ll give him fifteen minutes before you leave. That’s a suitable amount of time to be able to leave and not look really foolish.

Every person that enters makes your heart race. Is it him? Only to realise it’s a couple or a double date or a family party in tow. You check the time on your phone, nine minutes have passed. Your cheeks fill with air as you puff it out slowly through pursed lips.

YOU: he’s not coming. MAISIE MOO 🐮: dw he just called me! he was stuck in traffic!!! YOU: rly? MAISIE MOO 🐮: yah! should be there any minute, have fun 😉

Your heart rate intensifies again as you see a man walk through the entrance and close an umbrella as he greets the maître d’. It prompts you to look outside, the windows are practically black save for a few lights on in the buildings across the road. But your eyes focus on the fat raindrops and their white outlines as they roll down the glass. How didn’t you notice the sudden torrential downpour?

Even from your seat at such a distance from the entrance you can see how large and well defined his hand is as he shakes raindrops from his orange hair. The colour makes you shiver, but you bat it away. It’s him, it has to be him. He’s alone, after all. And you see the maître d’ smile in your direction.

Hell, he might be happier that he showed up than you are.

You hear him laugh, and it’s deep, as he’s guided into the restaurant. And you can’t help but smile as you see him. He’s handsome, very handsome, and he has such a positive energy beaming from him. His face seems warm despite being chilled by the wetness of the rain. There’s pink in his cheeks and at the tip of his nose as he continues to smile kindly.

And, really, you’re speechless.

He smiles so sweetly, you almost didn’t recognise him, as he takes his seat opposite to you. And he thanks you for the wine. His eyes betray him as he looks at you with optimism. You know him, you’ve always known him. Those amber eyes that you’ve never seen in another man again since him. They seem so kind, now.

But you know better.

While he knows nothing.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he grins, looking briefly over the menu. “I got stuck in traffic and then I had a hard time in the car park.” he laughs, his thumb indicating he’s referring to the multi-story car park down the road. The one notorious for its broken machines and confusing layout.

“Well, you’re here now.” you smile, weakly. Tipping the remaining contents of your glass until it flows between your lips. It goes down smooth and you almost feel it swim directly to your braincells, feeling slightly faint until your senses return to you again. You blink it away, and your eyes squint at him suspiciously. “Excuse me, I have to pee.” you tell him.

“Oh, sure.” he smiles. “Should I order for you if the waiter comes by? What would you like?”

“Are you paying or are we splitting the bill?” you wonder, taking his menu from his hand before he can even register that it’s gone. Your eyes scan the menu quickly, not looking for anything in particular.

“I’m old fashioned, so—”

“Great, then I want this.” you tell him, pointing to the most expensive meal on the menu as you place it back into his grip. He chuckles, gently, before looking up at you. Your smile filled with anger and malice as you turn on your heel to find the bathroom. “Oh, and an expensive meal should be paired with an expensive drink, right?” you tell him, leaving before he can respond.

He watches as you approach a waiter, asking where you can find the bathroom. They point you in the right direction. But before you go, you point towards the table your date is still seated at, telling them you’re ready to order. You ascend the staircase to the second floor and slip away into the bathroom and out of your dates line of sight.

Your heart pounds furiously.

Little hands shake as you search for your phone in your purse. Christ, you could use a cigarette right now. You feel light-headed as you take deeper and deeper breaths as you pull up your texts, your fingers tremble as you lean against the sinks.

YOU: do you hate me? be honest MAISIE MOO 🐮: ???? what’s wrong? Do u think he’s ugly? YOU: no he isn’t ugly. ANNOYINGLY. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! MAISIE MOO 🐮: … MAISIE MOO 🐮: what? YOU: do u remember me telling u about a school bully 😊 MAISIE MOO 🐮: stop it YOU: YOU SET ME UP ON A DATE WITH MY BULLY!! WHAT DO I DO?? MAISIE MOO 🐮: NOOOOOOOOOO MAISIE MOO 🐮: OMG OMG OMG IM SORRY MAISIE MOO 🐮: FUCK YOU: I told him to order me the most expensive stuff on the menu bc he’s paying.. so I might just eat and dip MAISIE MOO 🐮: stopppppp omg lmk when ur done I will pick u up im so sorry ily

You sigh, putting your phone back in your purse. Is that really the right thing to do? Maybe not right, it’s morally wrong, of course. But is it the best decision to make? Do you really want to sit and eat a meal you probably won’t enjoy with your former bully watching your every move?

“Fuck.” you whisper to yourself. You decide to pee while you’re here, and you wash your hands for longer than you intended. It’s distracting you from your worries as you stare at yourself in the mirror and feel the comfort of the warm water encasing your hands as you clean them. You shake them when your done, little drops of water landing back in the sink before you go to the hand dryer. Maybe you’re stalling. You’re definitely stalling as you realise you’re drying your hands for far too long.

With one final look into the mirror, you take a deep breath and decide to return to your date. He smiles as he sees you descend the stairs again. And instinctively, you smile back. It’s a habit you’ve developed, not necessarily a bad one. But in this instance, it feels like a betrayal to yourself. You tell yourself to remain straight faced as you sit down, pulling your chair closer to the table.

“I’m Rensuke, by the way. I realise I didn’t introduce myself.” he grins, beaming white teeth almost blinding you as he awkwardly holds his hand out for you to shake. “Sorry, been a while since I had a date.” he laughs as he puts his hand down.

“I know who you are.” you laugh in return, though it’s not because of what he said. You just can’t help but find yourself amused over the fact he doesn’t recognise you. He laughs, too, looking a little uncomfortable all the while. He scratches his head as he nods, coming to his own conclusion.

“Oh, right. You’re a football fan, then? Sorry, you didn’t strike me as the type.” he continues, assuming you’re familiar with him through his fame. You hold your eyes shut for a beat too long, an annoyed smirk creeping its way onto your face as you try to bite your tongue.

“Sure, let’s go with that.” you comment, taking a swig from your newly filled wine glass. He cocks his head in confusion, but drinks with you. “So, why are you here? In London, I mean. I assumed you’d be… not here.” you ask, unable to control your tongue. There’s venom in your words, but not enough to kill.

“Um, I—” he clears his throat, coughing into his balled-up fist. His honeyed eyes find yours again, an incredulous look appears on his face as he formulates his thoughts in his mind. “I feel like I’m being set up.” he chuckles, though you can sense the worry behind his voice.

You take another sip from your wine glass. A sip turns to a glug as you empty the red liquid from the crystalline glass. You refill it yourself; sensing things are about to go south very quickly.

“This wasn’t really a blind date, right? Maisie told you who I am and you wanted to meet me. Am I right?” he wonders. And at that, you do scoff. And now you’ve lost all interest in holding your tongue.

“Oh my God. You’re so full of yourself, you haven’t changed at all.” you tell him, crossing one leg over the other as you rummage through your purse in search of a cigarette that will never appear. “I had no idea I was being set up with you. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have agreed.” you tell him without remorse. Defeated, you throw your purse down to the ground by your feet.

There’s a sense of shame flaring within you that you couldn’t keep it together until the end of your date. Of all the people roaming planet earth right now, why did he have to be your blind date? You stare at him as you observe his confused expression, he’s utterly bewildered by your words.

“I’m… we’ve met before, huh? I’m sorry, I’m having trouble remembering. I— are you a fan? Or… were you?” he asks, trying to decipher your identity. You scoff, again, preparing to stand to your feet. He reaches across the table and grabs your wrist. You look down at his large, veiny hand and then into his eyes. Your own vibrating with a slight twinge of fear. You feel like that teenage girl all over again.

“Let. Go.” you warn him, voice quiet through your gritted teeth. He relinquishes his hold of you instantly, apologising profusely. He’s just confused about what he could have done for you to hold such disdain for him. But your warning replays in his mind like a record on repeat. It’s like his fractured memories are forming again, becoming whole as he hears your voice again and again.

Let go.

You sounded so much weaker back then. You’re more defiant, now.

“Are you Ryusei Shidou’s little cousin?” he asks, eyes widening and brows raising in excitement. You sigh, sitting properly in your chair with correct posture as your eyes look angrily at him.

“No, I told you—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not really cousins your families are just close. I remember.” he smiles. His eyes almost dazzle as he looks at you, all recollection of his past hits him like lightning as he repeats your name again and again like a mantra. “Is that really you?”

“It’s really me.” you repeat, sarcastically. “Cancel the food order, you can still pay for the wine.” you tell him as you pick up your purse and prepare to leave.

“What? Why? We should catch up!” he tells you, an expectant look on his face as he hopes to convince you.

“I don’t want to catch up with you?” you tell him.

“But… why not? It’s been so long since we saw each other.”

You signal the maître d’ when you finally catch his attention. Rensuke looks disappointed as you continue to ignore him. Instead, you alert the man that you’ll be leaving early and to cancel your orders. But you make sure to tell him that Rensuke will happily cover the bill. And he does, hastily pulling out a wad of cash from his wallet as you depart the restaurant. He hurries after you, he’s in slight disbelief when he realises how fast you are. You’re almost halfway down the road when he finally exits the restaurant.

“Slow down!” he calls out to you, running right up behind you until he’s walking at your pace. He opens his umbrella and holds it above your head as you carry on walking. “You’re gonna get sick if you keep this up.”

“Leave me alone.”

“At least take my umbrella.” he requests, “I’ll go to my car and leave right now if that’s what you really want. But at least take it while you wait for a ride home.”

You accept, not too proud to take something that might offer you a small comfort in the absolutely obscene downpour plaguing the city. How quickly you’ve transformed from a vixen to a drowned rat. He must be loving this.

“I really would like to catch up with you, y’know…” he smiles.

You look up at him as the rain soaks his gorgeous gingery locks dampening and sticking to his forehead. Maybe he has changed. It’s been years after all. He’s grown up, it’s plain to see from his chiselled jawline alone. And he was always big back then. One of the tallest guys in your class, and so big and beefy to boot from playing so much football and training in the gym.

He terrified you.

And now, he’s bigger. An inch or two taller and completely filled out into an even more muscular physique.

“I can take you home, too. You don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want to… but, it’s freezing. You’ll be waiting ages for a taxi or for Maisie to come get you.” he speaks softly. And unfortunately, he’s right. You know all too well how tough it is to get taxis around this time, but it would be worse if it was the weekend so at least you’re thankful for it being a Thursday. You want to decline. You’re so ready to decline.

But for some reason—

“Okay.” you nod. You walk ahead, though, leaving him behind as you walk to the parking complex you’re pretty confident that he used. He laughs, hurrying after you again and allowing you to lead the way. It seems you know the area way better than him.

He guides you to the elevator and to the top floor of the complex. You aren’t sure what you expected when you step out. It’s not like you’re familiar with cars. But you were expecting some kind of expensive sports model. A Ferrari or something. Instead, you’re greeted to a black Range Rover.

It’s definitely outside of your pay grade, but you can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“I thought you’d have a nicer car, Rensuke.” you decide to goad him, thinking it’s the least he deserves at this point.

“This is my incognito car.” he smirks, looking over his shoulder at you as he unlocks it. Of course he has an incognito car. You huff a little as he helps you up and into it, closing the door behind you. He circles around the back and you see him looking around in the boot before he comes to the driver's side and sits behind the wheel. He gives you a towel, presumably used for his training days, and tells you to dry off. “My nicer cars are at home, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, wait…” you snicker as a thought comes to you. “Were you gonna try and pretend you’re a nobody if I didn’t recognise you?”

His face fills with a pink hue as he feels completely caught out. And you can’t help but burst into hysterics. It’s tough for him, meeting girls who will actually like him for him and not his bank account. When Maisie suggested a blind date, he thought it was as good a chance as any to try and form a natural connection.

“Anyway, I’ll take you home now.” he tells you, trying to change the subject. “Sorry the date didn’t go to plan.”

You huff, again, as you try to dry your skin with the towel. Eventually you give up and use it as a horribly soggy blanket. “I can’t believe you even wanted to go on a blind date. Girls used to throw themselves at you in school. I told Maisie a blind date seemed really desperate.”

“Did we go to the same school? I was a virgin ‘til we left.” he informs you. You look at him, surprised, and he nods to clarify. “I was focused on football and shit, didn’t have time for girls.”

“Well, you had time to bully one girl.” you remind him, regretting saying it instantly. You thought confronting him would feel better than this, cooler. Like you can finally get closure and make him feel almost a fraction as bad as he made you feel back then. But instead, really, it just feels… cringe.

He offers a weak smile at you. The tension could be cut with a knife as he pulls out of his parking space and drives down each floor. He wants to say something, and really, so do you. Maybe you should just let the hatred go. It was a really long time ago, after all.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t a good guy back then, but I like to think I’ve changed a lot.” he speaks, eyes focusing on the road as the street lights and car beams blind him in the rain. “Your cousin bullied me, y’know. Dunno if he ever told you, but I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair though, so I’m really sorry.”

“He is not—”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, princess.” he smirks, “I wouldn’t want to claim a relation to that blonde freak either.”

The insult towards Ryusei makes you laugh. You’re still close with him to this day, and ‘blonde freak’ is the perfect descriptor. But you don’t like to think of him as being capable of bullying. You had a feeling that was why you were subject to Rensuke’s torment each day, but you didn’t want to discover the truth. He always made it a point to vilify you for being related to Ryusei. Though you adamantly denied it each time.

“So, you were a prick to me for being related to someone I wasn’t even related to?” you respond, seriously. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Though you’re unsure any answer to his bullying would have made you feel better. It hurts to know you suffered so much, ultimately, for nothing. “Wish I told him you were picking on me, he would have fucking killed you.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” he laughs a little. It’s soft, but not weak. It’s almost like acceptance. As though he deserves anything and everything you’ll throw at him. “We’re good now, though, if we’re in the same place we’ll meet up for drinks. He’s a fucking good player, too. Always admired him. He kept me in my place for a long, long time.”

You stare at him as he speaks. How have you never noticed how soft his features are? He’s so relaxed, peaceful. He looks at you briefly when he notices you staring, but just as quickly looks at the road again as his cheeks fill with heat, reddened with embarrassment.

“I was immature…” you start, looking down at your shivering, wet thighs as you decide to accept your own faults, too. “It’s been a long time since then. And we were young, it’s obvious that you’ve changed. I didn’t give you a chance and I was childish.”

“No, no—”

“I’m serious. Ordering the most expensive stuff and going off in a strop, that was really immature so... I’m sorry.” you tell him, and he smiles at that. He can’t help but think you’re a great girl. He looks over at you again, smiling so widely his eyes close.

“You never gave me your address, y’know.” he reminds you, laughing when the realisation hits you that you’d let him drive off with no real destination in mind. “Is it too late for that catch up?” he wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. The orange and brown colour tainted with sparkles of red as the stop light reflects from them.

And you’re powerless.

You find yourself agreeing before your brain can even keep up with the way you’re shaking your head. No, it isn’t too late. And his smile is almost as blinding as the headlights of each car in the road illuminating the falling raindrops and deep puddles forming in the street.

“I know where we can go…” he thinks to himself

Bowling.

You never thought you’d be coming somewhere like this. Truthfully, you feel like a kid again. You remember skimming some money from your daily lunch allowance given by your parents to save up enough to go to the arcade every weekend with your friends. Saving the extra coins to use the DDR machine.

Let’s just say you mastered Captain Jack on expert difficulty.

“Another strike? You’re too good, puttin’ me to shame.” Kunigami laughs before picking up a ball and preparing for his turn. “You better not tell anyone you thrashed me; my reputation will be in tatters.” he warns you, jokingly.

You watch him as he takes a swing and hits all but two pins, leaving an awkward split between them. You hear him mutter under his breath but can’t decipher whatever it is he was talking about.

For some reason, you feel like he’s going easy on you. It’s not like he was a stranger to the arcade either back in the day. You always scarpered whenever he showed up with his friends, deciding it was the perfect time to grab a bite to eat and hope by the time you were done they’d be gone.

“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I knew you were gonna show me up like this.” he smiles, sitting next to you after completing his turn. “I didn’t know you liked bowling, thought you just liked using the dance machines.”

“You remember?”

“Yeah, uh,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck as he recalls the memories from way back then. “Me ‘n Raichi, remember Raichi? Anyway, girls on the dance mats… well, we were teenagers, so—”

“Oh my God you’re so embarrassing.” you interrupt him to put a stop to his stuttering.

“Look, it was a sexual awakening that’s all I’m saying.” he laughs. “And you were the best one, never missed a step. I remember we used to watch you for ages before we came in to scare you away.”

“Disgusting. Pair of perverts!” you lightly smack his arm as you continue to tease him. “I was good, though. Wonder if I could still pull it off…” you look at the machines in the distance as you contemplate restoring your former glory, you feel a newfound sense of confidence as you think about Rensuke finding you attractive back then.

You decide to go for it.

He follows you as you approach the machine, standing on the second player arrows right next to you.

“Always wanted to try!” he shrugs as you look at him suspiciously. “You can teach me.”

“No, I can’t.” you laugh, slotting two-pound coins into the machine so you can both play. “It’s just memory and hoping your feet will respond in time. Good luck, though.”

“Yeah, sounds like you have real faith in me.” he rolls his eyes, throwing his coat over the red metal bar behind him and rolling up his sleeves. You quickly kick off your high heels as you scroll through the songs. You hover over Captain Jack, and his face lights up as memories of you back then flow through his mind. “You always did this one. There was a different one I remember liking, though…” he tells you.

He starts to scroll through the songs, listening to them carefully as he searches for the one he remembers. Your eyes widen in horror as he settles on one, and he looks at you with pride.

“This one!” he exclaims, loudly.

“No, no way. I could never get the hang of it and I’m even more out of practice now. Afronova is too hard it won’t even be fun!” you warn him, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Let’s do it la—” he interrupts you by pressing the select button.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“You put it on the hardest difficult, idiot. We’re fucked!” you laugh, but get into position. You’re both definitely going to fuck it up, but at the very least you’ll get a good laugh out of seeing him eat his words.

All colour drains from his face as he sees all of the arrows immediately come into view on the screen. He barely knows where to look let alone where to plant his feet. He looks at your side of the screen, though, seeing you miss a fair few moves yourself but you manage to keep up the pace enough to earn some words of praise from the machine.

If you’d know you were going to be doing this, you definitely would have worn a bra. You hold your arms across your chest as you continue to jump and follow along with the arrows as best you can. Kunigami, however, decided to give up and watch you instead. He puts his feet down a few times on ones he think he might actually be able to get.

You’re left panting by the time the song comes to an end and your final foot stomp leaves you breathless. Rensuke claps, proudly.

“Fucking hell.” you gasp for air, leaning over the red bar behind you. You think you might actually throw up. “You dick, you barely did anything either.”

“I was captivated by the master at work, you were amazing!” he praises you, and you can’t help but giggle. “I think we should do an easy one next.”

“Agreed…” you respond, flipping through the songs until you land on 5678 by Steps.

You both laugh and joke as you easily follow along with the routine on baby mode. And it’s easy to keep up a conversation with him like this. Discussing more memories of spotting each other in the arcade and what you got up to on weekends.

It makes you sad, in a way. Knowing how sweet he is now and what he was capable of back then. You could have been friends, great friends. Maybe even best friends. Though you’re sure Raichi wouldn’t have liked that.

He allows you to pick your favourite song for the final round. And, naturally, he can’t keep up with you. But this time he actually does his best. But for you, it’s like muscle memory. You don’t miss a single step through the whole routine and you don’t even feel out of breath when it’s over. Kunigami however is sweating and panting again, his already wet hair sticking onto his forehead again as the sweat clings to it.

“It’s getting late.” you tell him, “Should we get some gross bowling alley food and call it a night?” you wonder, moving to pick up your discarded high heels so that you can decide what to do.

He rushes by you and hops off of the step, snatching your shoes up before you can. You watch him, nervously, as he gets down on one knee while holding your black pumps. You’re too speechless to object when he helps you slip your feet back into them, so delicately. And he smiles up at you from his lowly position as you gain another six inches of height. He holds his hand out to you, helping you down the step after you take it.

You exhale, deeply, after feeling how unbelievably soft his hands are.

“I think I’ll get a hot dog.” he thinks, not letting go of your hand and he leads you up the small flight of stairs and into the eating area.

“Oh, the burgers were good last time I came here.”

“Ohhhh fuck you’re right, I’m getting one too.” he laughs, ushering you into a secluded spot to sit down. “What do you want to drink? I’ll run up and order everything now.” he smiles.

You quickly look through the drinks menu and tell him you want a strawberry and lime Kopparberg. He nods approvingly at your choice. You watch him walk up to the bar to order, unable to take your eyes off him. He’s chatty with the bartender, and you wonder what else they’re talking about. You see him grab a pad of paper and a pen from behind the bar, handing them over to Rensuke. And he smiles, happily, signing it for him. You see the man thanking him over and over before Rensuke walks back over to you.

“You only just got recognised?” you tease him.

“It’s rarer than you’d think, y’know.” he laughs, “he said his kid is a fan. No big deal.” he shrugs, sliding your drink over to you.

He moves on from the subject of his fame and status in favour of complimenting you again. Telling you how talented you are and how fun it’s been hanging out with you again. You end up telling him about your job. It’s nothing fancy but pays the bills. You tell him about how you pretty much fell into the job of doing admin work for a law firm and now you’re training to be a solicitor.

His face lights up as you tell him. Like he’s proud. Or maybe it’s a twinge of relief that he didn’t fuck you up mentally enough to ruin your life. Either way, his smile is contagious. It only grows wider when your two plates of food are put down in front of you. And you hate that you’re trying to eat politely. There is absolutely no way to eat a dirty burger in a ladylike manner. He laughs at you when a dollop of ketchup drops on your chest and tries to slither down your cleavage. But, ever the gentleman, he cleans it up quickly with a napkin.

“Sorry,” he hesitates after realising how intimate it is. He hands it to you and you finish clearing your chest. “Good call on the burgers, though, they’re so good.”

You smile as you chew your food, still doing all you can to appear polite and demure. But he doesn’t mind, or care. Canines tear his burger apart with ease, and he can’t seem to stop himself from smiling each time he looks at you.

“So,” you start, putting down the final bite of your burger in favour of taking a swig of your drink. “You perving over me, did that affect the bullying?” you wonder, laughing lightly as he almost chokes on his food.

“I wasn’t perving, it was, I— ugh. I always thought you were cute. But I wasn’t about to tell you that.”

“You thought I was cute?”

“Oh, like you didn’t have a big fat crush on me? I heard the rumours.” Kunigami laughs, drinking his beer as he leans back into his seat.

“No, no, rumours and hearsay. I told one girl I thought you were hot on our first day and it turned into a game of broken telephone and spread like wildfire. I hated you!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” he winks before taking another drink. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”

You shake your head, opting to finish your burger instead of disputing it further. He does the same, leaning back and sighing with relief before taking another drink. He slaps his stomach, as if he’s gained a beer bellying rather than possessing the rock-hard abs that you know reside there.

“This was fun. Really fun.” he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to get comfortable in the booth seat. You nod, agreeing. “What are we calling… this?” he wonders.

“What do you mean?”

“Was it just a ‘catch up’ or could it still have been a date?” he asks, smiling when your eyes widen and your face flushes with heat so much that you feel the need to fan yourself. You tell him that you’re just hot from eating, but another cocky eye roll tells you that he’s not buying that. “I’m hoping you’ll say it was a date, if you were wondering.” he speaks, low and gravelly as he leans across the table to tell you.

“Well, it was technically a date. Just not the location we’d planned.”

“I enjoyed this a lot more.” he tells you, looking around at all of the arcade machines and the people bowling in the distance. “I go to snooty restaurants a lot, I don’t get a chance to relax like this as much. So, thank you.”

“R-Right, no problem.” you smile, unsure of what to say. “I guess we should get going, then.” you finish, gathering yourself and clutching onto your purse as you prepare to shuffle out of the booth. He looks a little deflated, then, but he follows your lead.

He puts his arm around you as he guides you to his car, helping you inside again. He even gives you his jacket to wear when he notices you shivering. Though you opt to wear it over yourself like a blanket.

You look out of the window as he climbs inside and shuts the door. The rain stopped while you were bowling, but it’s still so dark out. It’s damp and dreary, it’s just miserable, really. But the cold chill of staring out into the black abyss leaves you when Kunigami turns on the radio. Some generic pop music you’ve never heard in your life, and it makes you feel old and out of touch. But the face he pulls says the same story, and he begins flicking through other stations until he hears something he recognises.

“S-So… do you live nearby?” you ask him, curiously.

“I do! Just got a new place a few weeks ago, I’m still unpacking.” he smiles as he envisions all of the moving boxes still piled up in each room. “So where am I taking you?”

“If you go to Maisie’s office I can direct you from there.” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt into place as he pulls up directions on his phone to the office. You look out of the front window when you hear raindrops begin to pitter patter again. “Um… Rensuke…” you start, hesitating to speak as you wonder what the fuck you’re even thinking of doing right now.

“What’s up?” he asks, eyes darting to you before he starts the car. The only thing that can be heard is the light drops of rain. It makes your skin jitter, you feel a chill as you look at Kunigami, the rain rolling down the windows in your peripheral vision and you feel thankful to be here and not out there.

You feel desperate. And you’re sure you’re going to humiliate yourself, but you don’t want the night to end. In a million years, you never would have pictured yourself enjoying the company of Rensuke Kunigami. He’s a busy man, you’re sure. He fit you into his busy schedule and you’re sure he has better things to do than spend all of his free time on a date. A date that is supposed to be drawing to a close.

But you don’t say that.

In fact, you barely say anything.

He can’t help but smile, though, knowing exactly where your next destination will be.

“I don’t want tonight to end, either.” he confesses. You feel your body become lighter as you realise he feels the same way. He starts the car promptly, and you note how sure he is about where he’s taking you. “Can I show you my new place?” he asks.

He’s so cocksure as he says it. His eyes don’t meet yours and you sense it’s because he knows you’ll say yes. And who are you to disappoint? You’re curious, anyway. You wonder if it will be as impressive as you’re envisioning in your mind. Footballers are rich, aren’t they? But maybe he isn’t a high earning player. Either way, you’re curious to see the home that your former bully has worked so hard for.

You lose track of time as you pull up to his house. Or mansion, you should say. He’s allowed through the security gate currently being manned by a member of staff, and he drives up and towards a three door garage. You can’t believe you’re visiting somewhere like this, it feels like a dream.

It’s something Maisie is accustomed to, Rensuke even tells you how confidently she strutted around and didn’t even bat an eyelid when she came over to discuss his contract. But you’re left speechless as more comes into view.

He doesn’t bother parking in the garage, pulling up directly to the stairs leading up to the front door. He’s out first, doing a little jog around your side to open the door and help you out.

“I didn’t bring you here to brag, by the way.” he insists.

“And here I was thinking you were trying to woo me into bed.” you laugh, and laugh harder the redder his face becomes. He holds his hands up defensively, waving them dismissively as he tries to assure you that was not his intention.

“I’ll take you home right after if you want! I swear I wasn’t—”

“Relax! I was teasing you.” you tell him, bumping into him as you enter the mansion. He offers you a drink, which you accept, happily. He pours you a glass of wine but gets himself some water directly from the tap. “You aren’t drinking?” you question, feeling a little uncomfortable that you’re drinking alone.

“I won’t be able to take you home if I drink more than I already have.” he chuckles, handing your wine to you.

He drinks his water, and you take a sip of your wine. His smile, that beautiful smile, it’s so disarming. You’re tottering on your heels to walk by his side as he encourages you to follow him. You feel as though time is flying when he takes you from room to room. There are still moving boxes in each room but it doesn’t detract from the lavishness of it all.

You laugh when he tells you there’s a tennis court out back.

“What are you going to do with a tennis court?” you giggle.

“Play tennis, I suppose.” he laughs back.

You don’t mind even a little when you feel his cold hand come into contact with the even colder skin between your shoulder blades. You mind even less when his hand snakes down your spine and settles in the small of your back as he guides you to the next room.

“Oh wow…” you express, hit by the warmth of the room. Your heels clack against the tiles with each step you take. You leave his side as you get closer and closer to your target. And you scream, smacking Kunigami’s arm as he rushes behind you and presses his fingers into your sides. “An indoor pool… you’ve really fucking made it.” you tell him, and he shrugs.

“There’s one outside as well.” he informs you.

“Now that was a brag.” you laugh.

“Shit, was it?”

“Absolutely.

You crouch down to the balls of your feet, letting your fingers swim through the pristine pool water. You aren’t quite sure how to describe the colour of it, but it’s mesmerising, as if sage and turquoise paint mixed specifically to fill this pool.

He takes your hand and encourages you to stand upright again. And he doesn’t let go as he leads you out of the room. The thought of going back to your poky apartment after being in here is harrowing.

It almost feels like he’s doing charity work.

There’s a rumble outside that causes you both to stop in your tracks. And once you enter the living room again, you see the heavy rain pouring down violently on the windows again. It’s louder than before. The raindrops are weightier.

He squeezes your hand as you yelp after seeing a bolt of lightning pierce through the sky. You look up at him, eyes full of grace as those honeyed eyes warm your soul for the umpteenth time tonight.

“There’s a weather warning from The Met Office…” he tells you as he checks the time on his phone. He lets go of your hand to look at you again, unsure of what to say. “I can take you home… before it gets any worse…” he whispers. His voice betrays him, though. You can hear the voice of a liar interspersed with his desperation to be a good guy.

He doesn’t want you to leave.

You don’t want to leave, either.

“It’s… dangerous, though…” you start, looking out of the window again at the gloomy weather.

“In that case…” he bends down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “You should stay.”

You mewl, softly, as he not-quite kisses against your ear and the smooth skin behind it. And your head tilts, for him, so that he can press one final kiss against your neck. You don’t want it to stop, but he withdraws himself with a cheeky smirk while your eyes are heavy with lust.

It’s been so long.

Too long.

You might have lived your whole life up to now without being kissed like that.

He curls his finger, instructing you to follow him back upstairs. You put down your wine glass and hurry after him. He doesn’t wait, this time, leading ahead as he brings you to one of the bedrooms.

“Wait here.” he commands, and you do.

You walk up to the standing mirror against the wall and check yourself out. Trying to make sure you makeup hasn’t smudged or there isn’t food in your teeth. Your hair is still soaked, but that can’t be helped. When he walks back into the room you quickly back away from the mirror as if you’d been caught doing something wrong.

“The bathroom is just opposite to here.” he reminds you, pointing.

You look down at the pile of items he brought in from another room. There’s an unopened three-pack of toothbrushes and a brand-new tube of toothpaste. You can’t help but smile when you pick up the rolled-up ball of white, fluffy bed socks.

And you hate to admit how your knees go weak when you realise he’s gifted you with his football jersey to sleep in for the night. There are shorts, too, but you doubt you’ll need them. You want to keep your dress on for as long as possible. You’ll just sleep in the jersey and your panties when you’re ready.

“Thank you.” you smile at him. You notice the tips of his ears and his nose turn a blush pink as he sees you holding up his jersey and modelling it against your body.

He doesn’t say anything as he leaves the room, giving you the space you need to do whatever it is you’re planning on doing. You take the opportunity to freshen up, you pick up the dental hygiene products he’d thoughtfully left for you and head to the bathroom. You catch his figure slipping into his own bedroom and closing the door behind himself.

Your mind runs rampant now that you’re truly alone. Look where you are. You’re brushing your teeth and preparing to spend the night in Rensuke Kunigami’s house. Sorry, mansion. How the fuck did this happen? Your heart begins to race. Are you actually going to fuck him?

You can’t.

You can already feel your inner child cussing you out for letting him kiss you like he did, no matter how brief it was. It helps, slightly, to tell yourself you have a reason to spend the night. The weather. It would be dangerous to drive in weather like this.

But, Christ, you can feel your cunt throb with want as you think about him railing you in every room of the house.

“Stop.” you whisper to yourself.

You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink. And that is when an idea hits you. You splash your face with water and find some cleansing wipes in the cupboard underneath. You start getting ready for bed. Because that is what you should be doing. Sleeping, alone, until you can go home.

When you’re done clearing your face you decide to slip into the clothes Kunigami gave you to wear. Even the ill-fitting, downright hideous shorts.

You emerge from the room, and see Kunigami appear again with a wide smile.

“Hey—”

“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” you blurt out, awkwardly, and Rensuke stops in his tracks.

“Oh… really?”

“Yeah I’m… tired.” you lie, already turning back into your room. “Goodnight.” you call out, not bothering to look at him as you’re already shutting the door behind yourself.

“Goodnight.” he replies, the disappointment in his voice doesn’t go amiss.

You can’t.

You just can’t.

You can’t fucking sleep.

It’s closing in on midnight when you check the time, and you have a multitude of texts from Maisie blowing up your phone. You can’t bear to respond, though. Not after all of the horror stories you told her about Rensuke. The thought of her knowing that you’re spending the night at his house is just embarrassing. Even though it is innocent enough. You didn’t even kiss, really. You’re just sleeping until morning.

But you can’t sleep.

Your mind is racing with ideas of what could have happened if you didn’t say goodnight. What else could you have gotten up to if you hadn’t had your responsible brain hardwired in. You’re thankful for it, you are. But just because it’s responsible doesn’t mean it’s always right. Right? It’s been so long since you’ve gotten fucked.

Are you depriving yourself over something so trivial?

You throw off your duvet and prepare to leave the room. You’re not looking for him. In fact, you’re hoping he’s asleep, like you should be. But if he catches you roaming the halls, you’ll just tell him you were going to use the bathroom.

The corridors are cold. The chill in the air caresses your no longer covered thighs, you discarded the shorts barely any time after you said goodnight.

You aren’t sure where you’re going, you only have the flash from your phone to light the way. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind you turning the lights on, but you don’t want him to catch you if he is awake. And you don’t want the light creeping into his room to disturb him if he did actually manage to get to sleep.

When you find yourself in the same room as the swimming pool, you have no idea how you even got here. It’s like you were summoned. It’s a mermaid’s lagoon and you were drawn in by a sirens song.

You can’t remember the last time you swam. It’s not like the weather is ever nice enough for it, and you hate public pools. But this… it might even help you feel tired enough to sleep.

You look behind you and approach a set of loungers.

As you’re about to pull Kunigami’s jersey over your head, you screech. The sound of breaching water echoes through the room and you turn around, sharply, to see the source.

“Are you okay?” he bellows, his voice reverberating through the room. “Were you looking for me?”

“Jesus Christ,” you yell, laughing soon after. “I- I couldn’t sleep. You almost gave me a heart attack, I didn’t even know you were in here!” you tell him, truthfully, and he laughs. He swims under the water from one end of the pool to the other. You stand at the edge when he comes up for air again. “I just couldn’t sleep.” you confess, though it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Your voice is quiet and mousy so that your words won’t carry throughout the room.

“Me neither.” he tells you, looking up at you as he does. You notice his eyes stray, catching a glimpse of your panties under his jersey before he shamefully looks away. But he looks, again, as he admires you in his jersey. “Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, the sound of water pouring is boisterous as he raises his hand and pats the edge of the pool.

You look at it, his hand, and understand what he’s doing.

You can’t.

But you do. You crouch down, submerging your lower legs in the warm liquid while it ripples against the back of your thighs and ass. Your breath hitches when you feel his hand on your thighs and raking up the sides. He stands up, his forehead resting against yours as water cascades from his soaking body.

You can’t bring yourself to care when you feel it splash up against you.

The only thing on your mind is how close he is.

“Why can’t you sleep, baby?” he tells you in hushed tones. The weight of his words and the way he speaks them makes your body limp. But he’s there to keep you upright. He angles his head so that his eyes, those honey pot eyes, can focus on you. Your words die on your tongue as you try and formulate a lie.

One won’t come.

“Why did you say you were going to bed when you weren’t tired?” he whispers, again, and you feel your resolve begin to crumble. He’s like an archaeologist, meticulously brushing at an ancient relic that he has no business handling.

He should have left you be.

“I… I don’t know, Rensuke.” you lie. And it’s an awful lie. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he hears you struggle to think of anything better than that. He knows. You both know. That’s why you can’t object when he pulls you closer. His hands force your legs around his waist. How did you get here?

“You look good, princess,” he tells you, tugging gently as his jersey, looking down at the strip that drapes like silk over your cute tits and perfect frame. “Want you to have it…”

“But it’s yours.” you respond. You’re a little taken aback by how demure your voice is as you speak. It’s like you’re instinctively making yourself small for him. Your inner child is protecting you, still to this day. He shakes his head at your words, though.

“It’s yours, I’ve got plenty.” he assures you. He keeps a tight grip of your thighs as he begins to walk you further into the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck and will yourself to remain some semblance of control. But he smirks, his nose touching yours before he pulls away again. “You’re coming for a swim… do you want to take it off?” he wonders.

Your eyes widen in horror as you recall your decision to decision to forgo a bra, knowing it would ruin your outfit. You shake your head, defiantly.

You can’t.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you inform him. He chuckles, at that. In his mind, he knows. And deep down, you know it too. If you don’t find your willpower soon, your bare-naked form won’t be an issue. He closes his eyes and holds them shut, laughing when you repeat his name a few times in an attempt to get him to open them again.

“Take it off, ‘m not looking. You can hide under the water.”

Your movements are halted but for barely any time at all. He has a way of making you submit to anything he wants and you aren’t sure why that is. You were so mad at him hours ago. You didn’t even want to have dinner with him.

But look at you now.

Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist and you’re throwing his football jersey away. It doesn’t land on a lounger, but near enough. And you hold onto his shoulders as he begins to walk you both deeper and deeper into the pool. You don’t want him to feel you, not like that.

It’s getting out of hand.

You can’t stop it.

You can’t help it.

“You can open your eyes.” you tell him, and he stops walking. His eyes slowly open and it takes an incredible amount of restraint for his eyes to not wander beneath the water. And, you feign innocence. You aren’t sure what is wrong with you, because you know you shouldn’t have. But you look away, pretending something in the distance has piqued your interest.

You give him the opportunity to leer at you.

And he’s so thankful.

Even submerged and obscured by the greenish, dithering water, your body looks like an oil painting. To him, you’re a work of art and he’s grateful that you’re even letting him experience you in the slightest. But this… you’re a masterpiece, he thinks.

“Hey,” he speaks, he moves a hand from your thigh to your chin and you cling to him instinctively. He guides your line of sight back to him, looking back at you with a serious stare. “You don’t need to fight me, you know.”

Your heart practically stops at that. At the very least you think it skips a beat. But you hold his stare, eyes vibrating as you look between his as you search for an explanation. Are you truly so easy to read?

He sees you wrestling with your conscience. He doesn’t want to intervene, but what else can he do? He pulls you closer to him, a surprised whimper leaving you as you feel your bare chest come into contact with his.

It doesn’t register to him, though.

You don’t fight when his lips begin to trail your own. No pressure is applied, but you’re breathing is heavy. And he can’t deny that his is matching your own.

“I’m not seventeen anymore.” he reminds you, quietly. Your eyes weld shut and your self-preservation begins to scream at you. Imploring you to have some fucking common sense.

You can’t.

“I know…” you confess.

You look at him briefly, giving him silent permission to proceed. And he takes it. Without hesitation he takes it as his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss. You feel like you’re in a romance novel as it continues. It’s polite but not entirely tame. And for you, it’s been entirely too long since you last kissed anyone. You feel him smile into the kiss when he hears the softest little moan crawl out of your throat. But it fades, fast, when he remembers how lucky he is to be experiencing this.

He doesn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t.

And so, he takes it seriously. He brandishes the plumpness and texture of your lips to the forefront of his mind as you allow him to continue. He implants the way your body arches into his as his fingers trace up the curve of your spine, and how your mouth parts ever so slightly when he reaches the nape of your neck.

You’re perfect.

“Has it been a while? Since you had sex.” he asks, quietly, like it’s some sordid little secret. You feel embarrassed when you register what he’s asking. The insecurity creeps in and you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, though, pulling you closer and reaffirming his interest with another searing kiss. “You’re so responsive, baby, that’s all.” he tells you.

You kiss him again.

And you feel pathetic. Like a dog humping a stuffed animal as you begin to instinctively roll your hips against him as you beg for more.

“Feels like forever…” you confess, hiding your words into another kiss and hoping he’ll forget you even uttered them. You hear him grunt when you sensually slip your tongue between his lips. He reciprocates, licking at yours as he carries you to the edge of the pool again. “W-What about you?”

You regret asking. Of course, the answer won’t be the same for him. He’s gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact. He’s rich, famous, successful. You’re another in a long line of women who throw themselves at him when given the opportunity.

You certainly aren’t naïve enough to think otherwise.

“Since I had sex? Not too long ago.” he responds, and it’s effortless. You knew. You fucking knew and yet you’re still feeling hurt. And you feel ashamed of yourself in the same breath. It doesn’t matter, really, you know who came before you and who came before him are irrelevant to what’s happening right now in this moment. But still, the feeling of embarrassment lurks. “I don’t remember the last time I fucked anyone the way I want to fuck you, though.” he finishes.

And now, you’re ravenous.

Your lips find his again. And the politeness has died, drowned in the pool along with your morals and self-respect, you figure. Your fingers grab and pull at whatever they can find. One hand finds purchase on one of his biceps and digs and squeezes into the hard flesh. The other tugs and pulls at his hair residing just above his undercut.

And he moans when you yank his pretty orange tufts. He breaks the kiss, laughing, for a moment after he recognises what you just stole from the pits of his lungs.

You feel your ass come into contact with the edge of the pool as he sits you down in the middle of a kiss. He breaks it, sinking down further into the water until you’re looking down at him. Your heart rate quickens as you feel deft fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.

And you can’t control your body, moving on autopilot as you lean back and keep your legs together as he steals the black lace from your body. He has no regard for where they land, but you hear a faint splash as they float on the surface of the pool. You won’t see them again, you think. They’re soon to absorb the chlorinated water and sink to the tiles framing the pool.

You sit back upright but find yourself unable to meet his eyes again. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling as he gently pries your thighs apart one by one. He’s slow, and careful, as he parts them. Soaking in the sight of your intricate folds.

“Pretty everywhere, huh? So fuckin’ pretty…” he expresses. You feel his thumb drift along your inner thigh to your pubis. A soft, low chuckle escapes him as it comes into contact with your pubic hair. A perfect landing strip guiding his eyes to your scintillating cunt. “You did this for me.” he states. He doesn’t ask, he tells you. And your eyes snap back to look down at him, defensively splashing him with water.

“I didn’t know it was going to be you,” you remind him. “I wanted to be prepared in case I—”

“But it was me.” he interrupts, wrapping his arms around your thighs after wiping the excess water from his face. “You’re letting me see. So it’s all for me, princess.” he continues. You don’t have a response, despite his logic seeming broken at best. It’s for him, now. But had you known who would be walking into that restaurant…

His breath fans across your heat as he places his thumb at the top of your lips and pulls back the hood of your clit. You gasp, letting your head sink as you lean back on your hands and rest your weight on them. And he spits on it, sucking at it soon after.

“’h my God…” you start, moving a hand to his hair, threading your fingers through damp, orange strands as he continues to suckle at your clit.

You’ve lost the means to feel embarrassment anymore as he looks up at you with his head buried between your thighs. Though you can’t deny the hot flush you feel as he makes a holy show of flattening his tongue between your lips and licking upwards from your oozing hole to your still exposed clit.

But you lose him, again, as he decides to focus.

He didn’t think he could burrow any deeper between your legs until you feel his still hooked arm drag you closer to the pools edge. You tug at his hair again when he finds his rhythm, and he emits another grunt that vibrates throughout your sex.

You admire how his muscles flex as his grip around your thighs intensifies. He feels how your hips begin to buck, like you’re getting there. Like he’s helping you get there but you’re still trying to run from him.

You can’t.

Not anymore.

He looks up at you with golden retriever eyes as you begin to moan. It’s quiet, until it’s not. Quiet, secretive breaths begin to turn into sinful, saccharine moans that echo right back to you as they bounce from the walls.

His nose wiggles and nestles against the perfectly formed line of your pubic hair. It tickles, but he’s always had an affinity for landing strips. It’s nothing he can’t handle. And it’s something that drives him wild.

You clamp your legs around his head as you start to dance along the cliffs edge of your orgasm. But he parts them, easily, his veins bulge in his hands as he grips tightly into the doughy flesh of your thighs.

“Ren- Rensuke—!” you cry out, unable to even warn him before he’s already dragged you into toe-curling bliss. And he prolongs it, divinely, not altering his ministrations even as you begin to shudder and scream. “S’too much, Rensuke, f-fuck…” you pant, looking down at him as he finally begins to slow down.

“’m not done, though.” he warns you. He liberates your left thigh from his grasp, but his fingers lightly trail down your inner thigh and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of your sensitivity. You twitch and spasm from the lightest of touch.

Though the whine that rips through your vocal chords is just as delightful. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t even predict it when you felt two thick fingers seamlessly slot inside of your clenching entrance and curl up against your g-spot.

“Fuuuuuck, no, Rensuke, c-can’t.” you warn him, partially succumbing to light headedness as you feel him hone in and target your squishy slippery inner walls without remorse. You’re shivering. You’d like to think it’s just the exposure of wet skin to the stormy air, but it’s too much. You know it’s too much.

“You think too much,” he tells you, head sinking low again to continue feasting upon your gorgeously ruined flesh. Your pussy pulsates through the recent orgasm and the overstimulation. He’s going to be disappointed when he realises you can’t even fathom the idea of cumming again.

You just can’t.

Your body goes limp as he nudges a particularly delicate spot and presses down on your lower abdomen. The moan that leaves you at the feeling is downright pornographic. You can’t see, you can’t feel, but he’s smirking. He doesn’t relent, but his ego and his cock swell with pride as that salacious fucking moan plays on repeat in his brain.

The hand applying pressure ventures up north of your body. And your cunt clamps down on his fingers as his adventurous hand grabs the fat of your breasts and gropes your flesh. You moan, weakly, with no energy left in you as he tweaks at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

You’re pathetic, you think.

It was this easy for him to reduce you to this.

But you can’t help it. Your body is spent and you can feel another orgasm climbing through your nervous system. And yet, despite being wrecked, your body still finds the energy to clench and groan as you feel pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl, again, before they spread and widen and you try and gain some sort of control over what Rensuke is thrusting upon you.

Another scream is torn from you as you fall, no, you’re pushed from what seemed like a higher cliff than the first. Your back arches from the tile and further into Kunigami’s titillating touch.

“Rensuke, I- I…” you aren’t even sure what you want to say when you begin babbling. You manage to rest your weight on your hands again and look down at him. He showers your inner thighs with adoring kisses, they’re sweet and loving and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling in love.

He pulls his fingers out of your spasming walls and looks up at you. Your jaw is agape, slightly, as you feel him spit a perfect glob of saliva onto your clit without even looking. He needs to stop. You shake your head as you see the gears turn in his brain and you catch up almost instantly. You try to pull his wrist away but you’re weak.

“C-Can’t, Rensuke… no more!” you tell him, despite trying to sound firm, you just sound pathetic.

He can’t stop.

So he doesn’t.

He rubs the two fingers that were inside you just moments ago repeatedly over your throbbing clit. The smile sprawling across his face is that of a menace. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He thinks he knows your body better than you do.

And, hell, he might.

You say you can’t.

But why are you moaning for him?

“Doin’ so good for me, princess.” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh again as he continues his assault. His eyes droop as he admires how tender and overstimmed your pussy is. You can keep going, though. He’s sure of it. “You moan really pretty when you cum… ‘n I can tell she likes attention.” he speaks, it’s gruff but somehow still soft. He doesn’t look at you right away after he speaks. Instead his eyes remain focused on your tremoring cunt.

“I’m— I c-aaaan’t. Anymore, no more, ‘mmm hmrmf…” you struggle to even make sense in your mind of what you were originally trying to say as the nonsense you actually spouted takes root in your brain. He laughs, shallowly, as you try to reason with him.

You can’t reason with him, though.

Not when he knows better and your cunt is betraying your weak will.

“Goin’ dumb for me ‘cause you feel too good, huh?” he chuckles, tilting his head as he tries to command your focus on him. The way every inch of your skin trembles with pleasure makes his cock leak like he could never imagine. He’s glad he’s in the water so you can’t see what a pathetic mess your pretty noises alone have him reduced to. Though he makes a mental note to get the pool cleaned tomorrow. “Don’t need to think when you’re cumming. Jus’ cum for me. Can tell she wants to… just let go, princess.”

“Haah, hn- hnnnnng—!” you finish with a cry, you can’t believe he’s managed to make you cum three times in such quick succession.

Even as an adult, Rensuke Kunigami has found a way to reduce you into a sobbing puddle.

He frees you, eventually, allowing your body to catch up to what has just happened. He finally lets you close your legs and allow your twitching quim to recover, alleviating the pressure between them.

He hoists himself out of the water, though. And he climbs effortlessly above you. And, really, you know he’s always been a big guy. It’s arguably his most defining trait. But fuck, like this, while you’re shivering and spent, he’s fucking massive.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks. The soft, caring voice contrasts completely with his all-consuming presence. He lowers his head to kiss between the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. But he stops short and looks at you again. “We can, if you want. But… I’m having fun with you.”

You should answer. He’s asking for consent, after all. Your lips part and reseal repeatedly as you try and decide on what to say. You’re having fun, too. But can you handle it? Can you handle more of this?

“You’re so… big.” you whisper, and you don’t know where that even came from. You giggle when you see him smile at your silly comment, and he immediately has a retort spring to mind.

“My cock matches, y’know. Why d’you think I made you cum so much?” he tells you. “Well… I like making pretty girls cum anyway, but you’ll thank me. If you wanna keep going, that is.”

“I want to fuck… want you to fuck me, ‘Suke.” you admit. He lifts your back away from the cold, damp tiles and pulls you into his embrace. You receive one final, show-stopping kiss from him as he pulls down his swim shorts. You keep your eyes on him, not having the confidence to look down below.

He grabs your chin, his thumb helping tilt your head and guiding you to look at his length. And, embarrassingly, you gasp. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and you look between him and the impressive size he possesses. It’s scary, honestly, looking at how thick and heavy his cock is and what it will feel like inside.

There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’ve never seen a dick like this and you surely won’t again. He’s big, thick. And long to boot. His tip is prominent but soft. Like you could suck it into your mouth and hear a pretty pop sound once it’s in. You could run your tongue along the ridge and make him hiss from the pleasure.

The thickness is akin to an energy drink can. Eight long inches threaten to invade your apparently well-prepared walls, but still, you aren’t so sure. His veins aren’t prominent, but they’re there. You see them running along his shaft in different directions. And then you do find one. One throbbing, prominent vein as you admire each and every inch of his heavenly member.

You’ve never had an affinity for balls. Seeing them as a nuisance that are just there rather than anything you have any interest in pleasuring. But for him. For those. You could be persuaded. They’re heavy, God they look heavy but every inch of him does. He’s a large, imposing man and his balls are no exception.

It turns you on to no discernible degree to think about how full and aching his balls must be after you’ve teased him all night. How they’ll tighten and release as he floods you with his cum when he’s through with you.

“Need you, Rensuke, n-now.” you tell him, unable to function without feeling him inside of you for a second longer.

A brief panic shoots through your veins as he pulls you back into the water like a siren. But he stops short of pulling you to your death.

At least, in the literal sense.

You might experience your fourth little death as soon as he sticks his tip in you.

The water sloshes around you as you’re pushed into the pool wall. Your legs sit comfortably on his hips as he guides his still leaking cockhead into your greedy cunt. You moan in tandem as you become accommodated with each other.

“You’re so cute, s’fucking tight, princess.” he tells you, silencing any response you might have had with an ardent kiss. You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. And it’s calculated, of course, as he pushes further and further into your sticky walls.

It wasn’t enough.

Three wasn’t enough.

The thickness of his length would have you screaming if he wasn’t keeping a firm grasp on the crown of your head so you couldn’t pull away to voice how the stinging stretch was affecting you.

He doesn’t let go until he’s in. Fully in. You feel him kiss your cheeks and now you can finally moan, pant, screech if you so choose. But as your breathing comes out in hiccupped sobs, you realise he isn’t kissing your cheeks.

He’s kissing away your tears.

“Took me so well, gorgeous.” he mutters against your skin, still continuing to softly peck his lips against your damp skin. “You’re so good… such a good girl, princess. I’m so proud of you, bein’ so good f’me tonight.”

It makes you cry more, though you aren’t sure why. You can barely think about what he was like back then. When he was cruel and callous for no viable reason. But you’d never have heard such sweet sounds from him like you’re hearing now. You’re a good girl, and it’s for him.

Your tongues tangle into a clumsy fervour as he starts to move his hips. The sound water lapping at your bodies is deafening. He lifts you up, slightly, so that he can pound himself into you without restriction.

Both of you find it hard to keep kissing romantically and consistently the harder and faster he batters his cock against your insides. Your lips touch but your mouths hang open. And he’s looking at you. Really fucking looking at you as he drinks in every facial contortion you make from the feeling of his cock bullying itself against your self-destruct button.

He loves the way you bite your lip when you’re close. How your eyes cross and you look so damn wet and pathetic as he brings you to ruin again. It’s a sight he’d have tattooed on the back of his eyelids if he could. He’s been around the world and still couldn’t name a more beautiful sight.

Maybe you could be a porn star, he thinks. If both of your careers fall through, he knows what a good fallback will be if you were so inclined. You’re perfect. Every inch of you, top to bottom, is perfect.

You can barely hold onto consciousness as you feel his heavy breeder balls slap relentlessly against your ass. But you hang on, you have to when he grabs the lower half of your face and pinches your cheeks until your lips pucker.

“Is my good girl about to cum?” he asks, and you nod, dumbly. “That’s it… stay with me. Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum again.” he orders.

You breath faster, fighting against the crushing urge to close your eyes and let go of your body completely. But you’ll do anything he asks, in this moment, so long as he keeps calling you a good girl.

“Can I cum inside?” he asks, thrusts increasing in pace as he jackhammers into you. He’s close, too, but he wants you to cum first. It’ll tip him over the edge if you cream him like this. It’s all he wants. It’s all he needs. “Or should I p-pull out?” he struggles, the thought of spraying your body with his seed appeals to him just as much.

“D-Don’t pull out, Rensuke, don’t you dare…” you command. “Hnf, ah, I’m! Haaah, aah, f-fuck—!” you finish.

“Shit, shit.” he follows you right after. It seems that he would have came inside whether you wanted him to or not. “Ohhhh, fuck, baby. Fuckin’ perfect pussy… take it.” he finishes, too, his pace only slowing by a fraction as his cock spurts rope after rope of pearlescent cum into your cunt.

The sound of water calms after some time. The waves lap around you, carefully, as you breathe and sweat after such a vigorous workout.

It surprises you, a little, as he kisses you after the fact. You thought he’d turn a little colder after he got what he wanted. But you underestimate him again, clearly, as he kisses you sweetly.

“That… amazing.” you tell him, not possessing the energy to fill the rest of the sentence. The start and end are enough for him to figure it out, though. And he cradles your body in his arms as he walks you both to the shallower end of the pool with the staircase. “’m so tired.”

“I know, baby.” he hushes you, you feel like a child in his hold. You’re so little in comparison and you’re still surprised he didn’t break you. He manages to effortlessly pick up his jersey and walk you towards the pool room door. “Gonna get you cleaned up, ‘n we can go straight to sleep.” he promises.

You can’t remember the last time you got such a good nights sleep. Really, you barely remember even falling asleep. You remember Rensuke washing your body and your hair in a warm bubble bath. But you don’t remember him putting you to bed.

Waking up in his arms was a nice feeling, though.

So nice you felt compelled to wake him up with a reward.

He stirred in his sleep as you began to kiss down his bare chest and further down his body. He’s a light sleeper, you came to realise, as he woke up with a cheeky smile on his face and asked what you were doing.

You took his cock between your lips and showed him just how thankful you were for his attentive treatment and aftercare from last night. And you may have wanted to give him a reason to remember you if he wanted to consider going on another date.

He got close.

Really close.

Until he pulled you away to sit on his cock.

“’m not wasting my cum in your mouth when I can cream this cunt again.” he smirks, helping you straddle his hips before lowering yourself down onto that perfect fucking dick again. And he watches you ride him, his jersey riding up slightly with each rise and fall of your hips.

“L-Love your cock, Rensuke, s’fucking big.” you moan like a slut with no remorse. You can’t act coy anymore. Not after last night.

“S’all yours, baby.” he tells you. His attention is stolen from observing your enjoyment when he hears a buzzing on the side table. He reaches for it, and you don’t even notice while your eyes are screwed shut.

And he realises it isn’t his phone.

It’s yours.

He moves slightly, so that he’s sitting upright, covering your mouth as he answers the call. Your blood runs cold as you feel the cold glass of your iPhone screen pressed against your cheek and your ear. Your eyes widened in horror as you look down at Rensuke for help.

“Hello?!” Maisie.

He uncovers your mouth, allowing you to speak. “H-Hey, Maisie.”

“I texted you so many times, where have you been? Did you get home alright? I was so worried!” she yells at you. You can tell she’s in her office pacing back and forth on the tiles as her heels click with each step. She’s pacing. She’s furious.

“S-Sorry! I was just, it was a weird night!” you try and answer simply without lying or giving too much away. But your heart quick starts again as Rensuke holds onto your hips. You're mouthing and no no no! Butit’s ignored as he nods sadistically. He holds tightly onto your hips until your flesh spills between his fingers. And he fucks. You whimper pathetically as you seal your lips in a bid to keep quiet. He really is a sadist, he looks like he’s going to cum to the sight of you desperately trying to maintain your composure.

“I cannot believe I set you up with your old bully, that is so my luck.” she laughs. “Did you just get a taxi home?”

“A-Ah! Uh, yeah I know, c-crazy.” you struggle. “S-Sort of. Eliza was in the area so she picked me up.” so much for not lying.

“Oh, really? That’s good.” she replies, though the click clacking of her heels comes to a stop. “Weird, though, considering I rang all of the girls to see if any of them had talked to you. None of them did.”

“T-That’s… weird.” you reply, eyes rolling back as you try and maintain a level head and think of a way to get off the call. “Um, I uh—”

“I’m at work, just looking through some of my client's details. I’ve got Rensuke’s address up on my screen right now.” she starts. Oh fuck. “You know what else is on my screen?”

“W-What?”

“Find my fucking friend you little slut! Oh my God!” she screams, though you can’t tell if she’s actually screaming or if it’s melded into laughter. “Did you fuck your bully? You whore!”

“I— It’s complicated, nngh!” your free hand flies to your mouth as you spasm through another mind-altering orgasm shatters through you. Rensuke keeps a firm hold of your hips as you tighten around his cock. You hold the phone as far away from your face as you possibly can, though it doesn’t matter. Not when Rensuke cums in you again with no regard to his volume.

“Oh… my God.” Maisie speaks, though you barely hear it. You bring the phone back to your ear and sigh. You already know you’re busted, there’s no point in hiding it now. “I thought I heard a mattress squeaking. Have you just fucked?!”

“Hmph… yeah. Sorry.”

“I’ll pick you up later if you need a lift, I want all the details you absolute slut.” she laughs, sitting down in her office chair as she actually starts to do some work. “How was the date though, was it good?” she asks, knowing she’ll have to go soon.

You look at Rensuke’s pink, sweaty face and wide smile. You melt into the way his thumbs stroke into your sides so tenderly. And you smile back at him, a newfound confidence you’ve never felt before.

“It was… fucking amazing.”

#rensuke kunigami x reader #kunigami x reader #rensuke kunigami x you #kunigami smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #kunigami x you #rensuke kunigami smut #tw alcohol consumption #tw dumbification #tw size difference #tw size kink #tw dacryphilia #tw praise #tw bullying mention

2K notes · View notes

piratefishmama · 6 months

Text

"Straight Guy" Rockstar Eddie Munson having a dating life not dissimilar to Pete Davidson, all like, Grade A bombshells while he's just this scrappy little rat man who, while extremely talented himself, while being a music industry mega star, is also just funny enough to land these women by making them laugh real Jessica Rabbit style, an he's so sweet too, bit of a vulgar pest but he's sweet.

He also has serious issues stemming from his fucked childhood though, and these women are all giants in their fields, they don't have time for those issues, they can't afford the bad publicity that comes with his issues rising up.

So those relationships land in the papers, there's tons of bad publicity, and then they inevitably explode a few months down the line.

He's been in rehab three times. It's not working.

It's only when the bands good fans start being drowned out by the criticisms of haters and articles and all kinds of awful memes and jokes that Gareth and Jeff call in reinforcements because this cannot continue.

In comes Steve.

Sweet sweet reformed jock turned co-owner of a cosy little bookshop that Robin fell in love with and just had to have him buy with her, Steve. Eddie's second best friend from after highschool, during that sweet spot period just before opportunity swept Corroded Coffin up into the chaos of fame.

And Eddie winds up dropped off at Steve's two bed apartment for an extended stay to get his shit sorted away from the public eye.

And maybe they kiss about it.

#steddie #prompt ideas

3K notes · View notes

justporo · 6 months

Text

Who's the goose... (2)

...that's on the loose? GOOSETARION! The adventures of Astarion being turned into a goose continue. Will he behave or annoy someone so much that his delicate goose neck will be in danger?

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: So, here we are... with the second part to this unhinged little idea - I had a lot of fun writing this, although if I gotta write someone honking one more time... Well, I'd do it... This beautiful BEAUTIFUL artwork is once provided by the wonderful, beautiful and incredibly talented @azaani-art (you bless us, love! Thank you for allowing me to use this!). And also @the-littlest-raindrop - if you wanna read you'll know why I tagged you! Please all enjoy! I'm excited to hear what you all think!

Pairing: Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Still stupid

Warnings: ankles in danger (you guys didn't think I'd be serious about this, right?)

Wordcount: 5k

~~~

The next morning the whole group sat around the giant wooden table in the main room of the inn. You were pretty sure you looked like you had slept in the gutter last night.

Beside you sat the goose, craning its neck at everyone at the table but for once pleasantly un-hoking. Even Goosetarion must have realised that honking the house down at this time of day would have probably gotten him his neck wrung faster than he could have jumped off the bench and waddled away. Or maybe it was lingering humiliation from when he had tried several times to jump up on the bench, fluttering his wings as if desperately trying to take flight. It had taken several more tries – and serious hissing from his side to bar you from just lifting him up onto the bench. And even when the goose had managed to get a high enough jump, it had face-planted onto the table nearly knocking itself out because it hadn’t anticipated the physics of the unfamiliarly long neck.

The others had to make a serious effort to not burst out laughing, but the violent threat in Goosetarion’s red eyes had shut them up quickly. Nobody really wanted to feel the goose’s wrath – or teeth for that matter.

Now you softly and absent-mindedly petted the animal with strokes from its head down to its back. Trying to make up for his hurting ego. The rump was very busy wiggling again.

You hadn’t slept awfully much last night as could have been expected. Of course, you had taken Goosetarion to your shared room. The staff at the inn had at first protested. But the fact that the others had quickly jumped in to declare the animal your “emotional support goose” and the fact that you really almost had started crying right then and there had been convincing enough to allow the goose in your room. Although you were of course given some serious side-eyes. But you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions at the moment.

You had sat down Astarion in your room, removed your armour and had sat down on the bed, sinking down against the headboard, face buried in your hands. Your feelings had still been very much on the verge of overflowing leaving you in a state of emptiness and tension all at the same time.

Only when you had heard some rumbling and strained croaks did you realise that you kind of had forgotten Goosetarion. But when you had opened your eyes, you already saw how the goose was hopping up on the bedframe and dragging itself up on the mattress with its wings, making what would have possibly been laborious groans normally. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you were impressed, nonetheless.

Astarion wandered over to where you sat with drawn up legs and then jumped onto your lap without hesitation. Some struggle followed in which the two of you tried to get comfortable on the bed. Which resulted in you getting whacked in the face by Goosetarion’s splayed wings several times and him face-planting onto your chest about an equal amount of times while trying to move around, losing balance.

Finally, when you had all settled down, Goosetarion had been all cosied up on your lap and made a small honk while looking at you.

You had started stroking him again.

“I’m so sorry this happened, Astarion, but to be honest, you really had it coming.”

“Honk!?”

“Because you don’t just go around trying to steal from anyone who looks at you funny!”

“Honk!”

“Let’s just… hope this will all be over soon. I promise I’ll protect you and take care of you – no matter what.” You had embraced the goose, burying your face in its feathers for a moment and deeply wished that soon it would be your vampire again.

Goosetarion had carefully placed his small head on your shoulder and given a very soft little honk. The weight on your shoulder had been so light it had barely been noticeable at all.

And that is how you had slipped into your dreams sometime: Sitting up against the headboard, goose on your lap. Your head had fallen back in an awkward angle that probably hadn’t been healthy for your neck. And the goose had been mirroring you with its long neck and head fallen back on your shoulder. Surely a sleeping position no real goose had ever occupied.

But now you sat at the inn table having breakfast and talked with the others about what your plans for the day were. It was to be more walking and talking to people.

You were rather relieved because that meant that you wouldn’t have to think too much about how to take care of the goose. You’d just have him tag along and try your best to stop him from biting anyone’s ankles or getting his neck twisted.

The group set off once everyone had finished eating. You swung your legs over and got up. Astarion eagerly jumped down from the bench and honked at you demandingly, immediately earning a hush from Gale and a tchk from Lae’zel. The goose wasn’t bothered by it, just kept looking at you, now spreading its wings a little. He honked again. It was obvious he wanted to be carried and was very demanding about it.

“Is that your definition of asking nicely to be lifted up? Because if yes, you need to work on your attitude”, you scolded him while deep down you were surprised how the vampire so blatantly dared to hold on to his desire to be petty and sassy.

Another honk – challenging now. The goose glowered at you, for lack of a better description, and you glowered back.

Then you just walked off, following the others which had already left the inn. And you were swift. Leaving no choice to the goose but having to waddle behind you as fast as his rubbery feet would go or risk being left behind.

You gave in pretty quickly afterwards. And if only because Lae’zel was almost already losing her mind about how slow you were going to be with the goose walking beside you.

Goosetarion willingly and humbly let himself be lifted and carried around then without another complaint. Actually, you got the feeling he was getting a bit too used to that already.

“Enjoying the luxury of being carried around by your loved one, Astarion?”, Halsin asked the goose a while after you had left the inn and walked around the city. Goosetarion had stretched out his head and looked at his surroundings curiously and cautiously from his privileged position.

At the question the goose’s head – which was comically staying in place despite the walking movements – had swung around and the question had been answered with a short honk that you could only describe as sassy. Then Goosetarion had angled his head in a way that was way too much Astarion in nature than should have been possible. The druid laughed while you saw that Gale shook his head disapprovingly.

You squeezed the goose just a little: “Well, don’t get used to it, Astarion, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.”

In reply you got a honk that sounded like a pout.

The first half of the day then was spent just like yesterday: tiresomely walking around, trying to strike up conversations with strangers to get some information without being too suspicious. Which was kind of a challenge when you were carrying around a goose that had to comment on almost everything despite no one fully knowing what it wanted to say.

Around noon you decided to take a break. You picked out what seemed to be a market place in full swing and settled down around the fountain in the middle. Each and every one of you had grabbed something from the market stalls to eat – pies, fruit, Karlach had even gone for a portion of spit roast.

At one of the stalls a huge-bellied man in a very grimy apron had way to keenly asked for how much you would sell the goose. Goosetarion’s head had yanked straight upwards, and he had immediately started to scream bloody murder (in goose) while you had turned him away in your arms – away from this shady looking merchant. Panic immediately had shot through you and your eyes had widened as you yanked the goose away and as far out of reach as possible.

“The goose is not for sale”, you had screamed hysterically in response.

“Unfortunate, how much good does it do if you’re only carrying it around? You all a bunch of leaf-eaters or what? This could be a nice dinner for my whole family!”, the man had yapped, obviously angry by your unwillingness to negotiate. You’d had your doubts about the family claim. Especially since you had seen the very suspicious looking dishes he seemingly had had to offer at his stall. They had all looked rank and the longer you’d stood there you’d also smelled their foulness. You hadn’t even dared to think about how old these must be.

“Istik, the bird is not for sale!”, Lae’zel had entered the conversation and drawn a dagger, taking a threatening step towards the huge man.

The other companions each all had taken up readied stances too – hands not too casually wandering to their weapons and stepping in front of you and Goosetarion in protection.

And thankfully, it had been left at that. The man lifting up his hands in defence as he had mumbled something incoherent and turned around again. Astarion had honked once more in victory (as if he had contributed to anything) and waved his head that would have normally swept his white curls back. As a goose it had just looked a bit delusional.

Now you sat on the cobblestone ground with Goosetarion on your lap. You had already gotten into a routine it seemed, it was awkwardly comforting. But somewhen when you were still nibbling on some apples and cheese, the goose wiggled off your lap. It seemed he was bored by just sitting around. Or maybe it was also that all of the group happily munching away had made him think of his own hunger that he was currently unable to satisfy.

He eyed the rim of the fountain suspiciously while everyone was busy chatting and eating. Only out of the corner of your eye did you see how he spread out his wings, his neck stretched out and started swinging – almost like a cat preparing to make a big leap somewhere.

Was he… was he trying to fly?

The goose made a leap, desperately flapped its wings and just for a tiny moment actually seemed to gain some air. But the moment passed as soon as it began and Goosetarion full on crashed into Lae’zel who had just gotten back from also buying a portion of spitroast. The githyanki had only just sat down when the goose fell onto her, almost causing her to drop her food.

Lae’zel immediately had her dagger out that - not so long ago- had been used to protect the same goose it was threatening now. The githyanki cussed out the animal that darted back to the safety of your lap much faster than you could have imagined. With desperate honking the goose jumped on your lap and tried to even climb up onto your shoulders. Lae’zel was still cursing and stepping closer, dagger in hand.

“Astarion! Lae’zel!”, you both called them out.

Goosetarion gave self-righteous honk while the fighter reluctantly sheathed her dagger again and went back to her lunch.

“And you are getting off my godsdamned shoulders, you silly goose, you’re too heavy!”, you added with some anger as Goosetarion was just about to figure out an even more privileged position. You shoved him off, causing him to croak in disappointment. And you made a point to ignore the annoying goose for some time after that, joining the conversation of the others – parenting measures.

So, Goosetarion got bored again with simply sitting around, waiting for you lot to get going again. He started to waddle around you and the other companions – as if he was deep in thought and tried to sort them out by wandering back and forth.

At one point a small child came by and interrupted him by pointing at him, loudly screaming “DUCKY” and then toddled away again. Goosetarion looked taken aback, honked in confusion and annoyance and then went back to his wandering.

Jaheira and you were discussing an action plan as to where to go next since you had the most knowledge of the city. Actually, Astarion would probably have had valuable input. But getting that input across was a bit difficult at the moment. He tried nonetheless.

The goose loudly honked when Jaheira proposed something and shook his head in a comical way then started to flail around his wings. The flailing and honking really did nothing though to get his point across. When Goosetarion noticed that you were all just staring at him in confusion he even looked like he was attempting to perform a face-palm. Then he gave up with another defeated honk.

The small child from before chose this particular moment when everyone was still staring at the goose to return. It was carrying quite a large piece of bread and from a few feet away hurled it at Goosetarion whose back was towards the child. “FOR DUCKY!”, it screamed while putting all its power into the throw.

Apparently at this young age the child was not yet very proficient with improvised throwing weapons because the throw went absolutely awry. Or rather, the child was in fact a prodigy because the piece of bread hit the goose squarely in the back of its head, making it squeak and lose balance.

The kid just laughed giddily and clapped its hands, hopping up and down. Obviously, it was expecting the “duck” to happily devour the generous offering of food now.

Goosetarion regained his balance quickly and turned around. He was dangerously silent.

You immediately felt the tension radiating from the small body, so you carefully got up. To be ready for whatever.

The goose stared down the child who was still jumping around cheerfully. But the longer “DUCKY” just stared at it, not moving, just with a lot of fury in its tiny red eyes, it realised that something was wrong. The kid calmed down until it looked downright frightened. You saw the child’s bottom lip starting to wobble, ready to start crying at any moment.

And then Goosetarion stormed towards the child, big wings spread wide, neck stretched out as far as possible and screaming as loud as his lungs allowed.

The kid started screaming as well and desperately tried to run away, almost stumbling over its own feet in the attempt to not get assaulted by the vicious goose.

You rushed after the murderous animal, trying to get to it before it could brutalise the child’s ankles. And thankfully Astarion was still not very adept to running around as a goose and you could easily catch up to him and grab him.

He desperately flapped his wings trying to free himself from your arms while still honking like mad. Your ears almost immediately started ringing. Incredible how much anger could fit into such a tiny body.

The child was already long gone and probably traumatised for life by this oversized duck trying to hunt it down. But Goosetarion was still livid even when you picked him up while holding him as far away from you as possible to avoid getting whacked by him again.

“Astarion, will you calm the fuck down?”, you yelled in between angry honking. You yourself were getting more than just annoyed by his behaviour – first he got himself into this pickle and now he caused even more chaos instead of sitting it out. There definitely was something to be said about the chaotic nature of geese and the vampire rogue fitting very well together.

The rest of the group had been watching the scene. Gale had his face buried in his hands. Most of the rest was at least silently snickering while Karlach was just very openly losing it again.

You sat the angry goose down on the stone rim of the fountain in an attempt to force him to calm down. “Time out, Astarion, godsdammit! Either you behave or I might be thinking about selling your poultry ass off, yet!”, you gave him the ultimatum and pointed a finger at him angrily.

He tried to snap at it. You could barely believe the audacity.

“For someone with so much neck to wrangle at the moment you should really be careful about who you piss off, Astarion”, Wyll said who was casually leaning against the fountain.

The goose stared at him. But Wyll just shrugged.

“Are we going to be nice now?”, you asked Goosetarion. The gaze of the red button eyes wandered back to you. The goose gave one more, curt honk, then settled down in a manner that made you think it would have crossed its wings over its chest in annoyed defeat had it been able to do so.

You stared at him angrily for a moment longer then went back to eating your scrawny lunch and talking with the others. You kept talking about different possible ideas on how to go forward. The goose meanwhile was brooding while sitting on the rim of the round fountain.

After a while, it seemed Goosetarion had enough of being well behaved and only listening while not being able to throw in his snide comments. He hopped off the fountain wall, specifically choosing Gale’s lap as a landing pad and making the wizard wince while the goose jumped off him and sauntered away.

He wandered around a little and honked dismissively when you told him to not to go too far. But for the moment you were already so fed up with him you really couldn’t care less.

The group finished up their lunch and decided on their plan. Then you all packed up your things and were ready to leave. And only then did you notice that the goose was nowhere to be found.

“Astarion?”, you asked and looked around. Some of the others had already started walking again.

“Was he not just wandering off towards some of the market stalls?”, Halsin asked. You simply nodded as you started looking around with rising panic.

“Yes, but I… I mean he wouldn’t have just left, right?”, you said as you ran from side to side and hoped to spot a feisty goose somewhere. You screamed his name again in hopes to get a honk in response. But nothing.

“You don’t think he would have wandered off just to spite us, right?”, you asked Halsin again. The druid in the meantime had shouted to the others to stop and come back.

“As much as I think that he likes to get on people’s nerves deliberately… I don’t think he would walk off and jeopardize his own safety – so no”, Shadowheart replied as she came back and caught on to what was happening.

“Well, then where could the little rascal have gone?”, Karlach asked in response.

A thought raced through your mind when she said that, and it hit you as you looked at Karlach.

“The suspicious merchant!”, you exclaimed and panic reached new heights within you.

“Let me just”, Gale started when he connected the dots and immediately started murmuring an incantation. Meanwhile the group had reassembled at the fountain and quickly was informed about what was happening. You stared at the wizard as he had gone silent and impatiently awaited the result of whatever it was he was doing.

The wizard’s eyes had lit up and he was focusing. Then his eyes flashed back to normal, his eyes found yours, worry flashing in them: “I feel him, he’s moving – quickly. And I’m pretty sure that is not goose speed.”

Your eyes widened when Gale confirmed your suspicion. You looked around at the others who mirrored your expression and without out a word you all readied to take on the pursuit.

“This way”, the wizard exclaimed with an outstretched arm, and you all started running.

You ran through the market and then through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, following whatever direction Gale gave you who was quickly out of breath but did his best to carry on.

You were already almost back at Wyrm’s Crossing – the houses a lot smaller and simpler here than the townhouses in the core city. And surely after a few minutes you could make out desperate honking somewhere in front of you. You closed in on the goose-napper!

When it seemed, you were only a corner away you already reached for your dagger – ready to do whatever it might take - but Wyll grabbed your hand. “Let’s be clever about this, let’s not risk that delicate goose neck being broken”, he said to you with a sympathetic glance. Reluctantly, you put back your dagger, at least for the time being.

You peeked around the corner and sure as all Nine Hells you saw the full-bellied man from earlier with a wiggling, struggling and screaming goose under his arms turn another corner. From there on out you followed the villain with some distance to avoid him noticing your little rescue party.

You followed him up to a little free-standing wooden house. It was old and shabby and made you further suspicious of him. What kind of shady business could someone possibly be up to in there?

You saw how he was putting some stuff down in front of the porch of the house, then went inside with the screaming animal still under his arm.

Again, you were ready to just go and immediately tear this house down. You were almost blind with your fear and worry for Astarion and with white-hot rage. But again, Wyll grabbed your arm and made a motion that conveyed that you should walk around the house.

Very impatiently you nodded, and you all snuck around the house which was barely a step up from a shack. From the inside you could actually hear the excessive honking of the goose now. Your heart almost broke and your body was tense with rash panic.

On the rear side of the house was a scruff garden fenced in by a rundown fence and a small wooden stump. It was almost an insult to even call it a garden; it was more of an abandoned plot.

It looked like the stump there was used for chopping wood. An axe was planted in the ground beside it. But there were also dark stains on it that could only make you horridly guess what else might be chopped there.

Wyll – taking over the role as tactician right then and there – made you wait while you were almost ready to scale a wall. At least by the excessive continued honking you still knew that Goosetarion was alive.

Wyll’s patience and insistence paid off because after mere minutes, the man came out of the house again, carrying the goose, some stuff in a basket hanging from his arm and of course – a ginormous cleaver.

Your heart dropped and the goose too now looked just very scared and helpless with how it hung from the goose-napper’s arm. Head hanging low, seemingly having given up all hope of being saved. You drew an arrow and readied at on your bow as Wyll waved the others to get in position.

The man slammed the cleaver into the wooden block and then with both hands placed down the goose on its back. The animal was barely even struggling anymore, just fearfully squeaking and noticing that almost broke your heart completely in these frightful moments.

The villain then ripped out the cleaver from the wooden stump and lifted it up high. You could see the sunlight glint on the shabby silver.

Wyll was still motioning everyone to hold but your strings snapped.

“GET AWAY FROM THE GOOSE!”, you screamed at full lung capacity while loosening the arrow from your bow string simultaneously.

The man hesitated and had only started to turn to you as the arrow struck him squarely in the shoulder holding the cleaver.

He immediately dropped the lifted knife with a guttural scream, letting it fall. It land on the wooden stump again – missing the goose’s head by mere inches. You only saw how the goose’s head dropped back with a small relieved honk, almost as if it had fainted shortly because of the shock.

Then absolute chaos broke out.

You all rushed towards the man who was screaming in pain and was already pulling at the arrow in his shoulder. Your eyes were solely on the goose but then Halsin, Karlach and most of the others overtook you and you lost sight of the animal as your friends stormed onto the man.

Coincidentally, some other shady looking folk came out of the back of the house, alarmed by the commotion. Your suspicions and gut feeling were confirmed then. You didn’t need to know anymore at this point, you had no mercy in your bones for them in this moment.

The thugs engaged your group in combat. In the meantime, you were desperately trying to spot the goose while your friends easily managed to keep the enemies in check.

Finally, you spotted Goosetarion! He had jumped off the wooden stump and seemingly had gotten into the basket the man had been carrying. And obviously the basket had contained some more knives because the goose was now firmly holding one in his beak. Astarion certainly had gotten out of his stupor and was now flailing his wings and threatened everyone with the blade he was carrying – everyone’s ankles were definitely in grave danger. Almost no difference from the usual rogue.

Your group easily fought off the thugs as you sneaked through the chaos of the battle towards the goose to grab and secure it. When the goose saw you, it hopped happily and dropped the knife to honk joyfully at you. You rushed over, kneeled down and wrapped him in your arms as he kept honking and jumping – obviously very relieved that you came to his rescue.

The fight was very quickly turning to your favour. But then as you kept holding onto the poor little animal you heard something else. You couldn’t quite discern it at first, but you heard loud screaming. And as you tried to peek through the legs of everyone around you, you saw some people in armour coming closer.

“City watch”, you whispered to yourself. Goosetarion’s head swung around as well and he gave another honk as he saw what you saw.

“CITY WATCH”, you yelled louder so everyone would hear.

That made almost everyone stall. You quickly got up and wildly gestured at your friends to just get going. So they did – and the fight turned into running from city guards way quicker than you thought it possible.

You didn’t even take one look back at the assailants and the goose-napper. You were just completely happy with running away with your goose soulmate safely in your arms. The adrenaline of the fight and the panic before almost awarding you wings. The only reason you took a look back was to make sure that all of your group were safely with you.

When you had brought what you thought was a safe distance between you and your pursuers, you just sank to the ground with Goosetarion wrapped securely in your arms. You nuzzled your face into his feathers and started crying.

The last day had literally been too much for you. You were in desperate need of a break and some strong alcohol. Someone put their hand on your shoulder as you cried into Astarion’s feathering. You softly slid down against the rough brick wall you were leaning against until you were laying on your back, completely dissolved in your tears. You were still burying your face when even through your closed eyelids you could see a purple flash of light and suddenly the weight laying on top of you was much heavier than before.

You opened your eyes and almost didn’t believe them when you saw Astarion – the real elven Astarion lay on top of you. Reflexively your arms and legs wrapped around the man to hold him as close as possible.

“Oh gods”, was the only thing you managed to mutter as more tears kept coming. The vampire in turn wrapped his arms around you as well. He was panting and coughing – surely a response of straining his voice with all the excessive honking. You rolled around in your forceful hug until you were laying on top of the former goose.

And then you just stayed like this for a long moment while your friends watched out for you and gave you two a moment of just holding each other. Making sure everything was fine and letting the realisation settle in.

You buried your face at Astarion’s shoulder and held him as tightly as your body allowed.

“Hello, my love”, Astarion whispered hoarsely to you as he started to softly caress your shoulders, arms and back.

You sobbed and lifted your head from his shoulder. You saw how he softly smiled at you and that his red eyes were dangerously wet as well as he kept holding onto you.

You didn’t know what to say nor did you trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences yet. You were just unbelievably happy that you had him back with you. So you just stared at the humanoid vampire again and didn’t let go of him.

“Honk?”, Astarion made in an attempt to stop you from crying by cracking a joke. You whacked his arm and pulled him in closer again. Then you whacked his arm again.

“If you’re ever going to honk at me again-“, you started making a threat.

“I’ll happily promise you not to”, Astarion immediately replied, pressed his forehead to yours and cupped your face with one of his hands – graciously reminding you that he was fully back with you again.

And then he pressed his lips to yours, confirming the promise he had just made to you.

Tag list:

Tumblr taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @bloopthebat @dark-star-exe @sleepydang @spooniefulofsugar @shadowserpent4444 @mei-simp @shiningneedlecastle@indestructeible @catching-fire-in-the-wind

1K notes · View notes

residenthughes · 3 months

Text

opera house - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, oral sex (m on f), dirty talk (if you can call it that?), no mention of y/n, pet names (baby, princess)

summary: reading is your favourite pastime. jack makes it harder than anticipated.

notes: so...🫣 this happened. it's a small little thing that started out with me just wanting to write about how pretty jack is only to turn into the respectful pile of filth. don't write smut much so apologies if this isn't to your liking, but hopefully i'll be back with something better. also, the sentence in italics is a quote from the book mentioned in the fic. much love! <3

As the cold November climate nips at your flesh and colours the sky in hues of grey, you nestle in the cosiness of your home, warm and sheltered with your treasured fuzzy socks on as you curl up on your bed with one of the books you’ve been meaning to read. Jack says it’s a bad habit of yours: buying books that collect dust on your shelf, to which you quickly argue that he’s the one enabling your ‘bad habit’ by constantly buying them for you - your Goodreads profile bookmarked in his phone for safe keeping. An endearing act of service, all of which he is no stranger to - gifting said books in the form of a bouquet every time he leaves for a long road trip, taking out the trash because he knows it’s your least favourite chore, curling up with you now, sweetly bundled in between your legs as you two find peace in the silence you share. It’s like a warm hot chocolate on a chilly day like today, your connection smooth and comforting, wrapping you in the warmth of its embrace.

You peer beyond the top of your book, catching an eyeful of the back of Jack’s head and his loose curls, the soft clicks of his gamer control sounding as his eyes focus on the TV screen a few metres ahead. Your sugary thoughts of how endearing your long-term boyfriend can be - always is - overflow like lava, the smile on your face terribly enamoured as your fingers card through his hair, curling the soft locks around your index finger.

Like clockwork, Jack leans into your touch, slouching further into his position in between your thighs, laying a chilly cheek against the flesh of your thighs.

You squirm against the brush of his eyelashes against your skin. “That tickles.”

“Uh huh,” he absently answers, tapping away at his gamer control. “Does this?”

A delicate kiss marks you, Jack’s head going back to laying against your thigh as he directs his attention to the game set out against the TV.

“No,” you blush. “But, that was nice.”

A huff of amusement sounds from Jack and instantly, you know what position you've put yourself in by saying that. “Bet it was. Aren’t you busy with that book of yours?”

You bite back, the muscles of your thighs tightening their grip around your boyfriend. “Sometimes a distraction is necessary.”

The clicks of his gamer control halt and silence envelopes the room, your eyebrow raised as his on-screen character dies as a result of his negligence.

Jack clears his throat, his body shuffling against yours as he readjusts his position, restarting the game. “Maybe you’re right about that, baby.”

A pout remains settled against your lips as your eyes squint at your partner, your suspicion towards his action not enough to distract you from the habitual motion of your fingers as they thread through Jack’s hair. You raise your opened book back to eye-level, not batting an eyelash.

It’s when you’ve gotten perhaps three sentences into your book that Jack breaks the silence. “What’s the story about?”

“The book I’m currently reading?” Jack hums in reply. “Oh, it’s a spinoff of a series I’ve been meaning to read. It’s basically a college romance story about a girl aspiring to be on the national ice hockey team and her getting help from this guy she met years ago, called Ryder. Unexpectedly smutty, 10/10 would recommend.”

Jack laughs with you at your nasty comment, body vibrating against yours as his chuckle courses through him. You lower your book again.

“You and your smutty books,” Jack snickers to himself, eyes trained ahead of him. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “In what ways is it unexpectedly smutty?”

Despite how long you’ve been with Jack and the comfort you've established living alongside him, the question does make you a bit flustered, crimsoning as you look away, avoiding any view of him. “Well, it’s pretty raunchy up front. Like how they’ve done some naughty things in the shower - quite tame, but I’ve also just read that Ryder did some things when they went to go see the opera.”

“What things?” Jack asks, point blank.

Now, it’s time for you to clear your throat. Cheeks tinted. “Do I even have to say, Jack?”

The pause screen displays itself against the TV, the clicks of his controller no more as Jack shifts once again within your grasp, body turning as he lays his stomach against the comfort of the mattress, pools of azure staring into yours. Your heart thuds in your chest.

“Yes, I wanna hear what things you’re reading,” he says easily as if he isn’t inciting violence in your chest right now, the corner of his pink lips curved softly as he tilts his head against your thigh. “All of it.”

Suddenly, the temperature in the room escalates from toasty warm to scorching hot, a familiar flame in the pits of your stomach igniting as you’ve somehow found yourself in such a predicament - backed into a corner and at a loss for words.

“He,” you stammer, averting your eyes because all Jack’s eyes do is look at you, his burning gaze elevating the heat that dances against the surface of your cheeks. “He fingers her in the opera.”

You whisper that last part but Jack hears you judging by the faint chuckle coming from him. “He fingers who at the opera?”

He accents his point with a kiss against your thigh, this time the gesture conjuring a polar opposite sensation as goosebumps riddle your skin. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t known you were holding, looking again at your partner to still find him looking right back at you, eyelids heavy and eyes dark. You have to look away.

You gulp. “Gigi - her name is Gigi.”

You finally muster some sort of courage you’ve had to find within your situation when you hear Jack shift again, eyes capturing your boyfriend’s arms coming up to circle around your thighs, eyes never leaving yours as his hands find purchase against your skin, thumbs absently caressing the surface much like you did earlier with his hair.

“Is that short for something?” Jack accents his question with another kiss, his touch searing.

“No,” you gulp, voice foolishly unsteady as your eyes study Jack’s movements with caution. “I mean, Ryder jokes that her name is Gisele, but that’s-”

“Guys like to tease,” he kisses a little higher against your thigh as if to prove his point. “Especially with girls they like.”

“I don’t think that’s appreciated, Jack.”

You’re talking about a completely different thing now - a conversation within a conversation.

“I don’t know about that, baby,” whilst still staring at you, his teeth manage to nip at a small sliver of your skin, numbness plaguing your limbs. “Read it to me.”

Your brows knit together, puzzled as ever. “What?”

“You heard me,” declares Jack, his kisses abundantly littering the expanse of your thigh as your mind begins to spiral. “Read it to me.”

Your mind is frazzled, brain working overtime to comprehend the sudden turn of events, all the while Jack takes it upon himself to sit pretty in between your legs and touch you as if made from porcelain - delicate and tender, a sharp contrast to the emotions bathing you in lust. Jack glances up at you one more time, button nose nuzzling against your inner thigh as he gives you a knowing look, his lips preoccupied. You obey wordlessly, uneasy eyes still on him as you bring your book back upwards, its previous position altered so you can manage to steal a look at Jack out of your peripheral.

Out loud, you begin to read to him the aftermath of the opera scene, a more tame development following as you manage to get through the next page unscathed. Jack’s kisses at first, are a bit distracting and have your voice betray you, but they’re sporadic and by the time you’ve turned the page, you’re already used to the sensation. You even achieve some comfort in his touch, but that doesn’t last long because when you’re in the midst of your storytelling, you feel Jack’s fingers hook around your shorts’ waistband.

Immediately, you lower your book, a chill running down your spine. “What are you doing?”

He bats his long eyelashes, almost mockingly. “Listening to you.”

“Jack.” For once, your tone is firm, watching aimlessly as he inches the material past your hip bones.

“Lift your hips a little or I won’t be able to get these off you,” he insists, a convincing smile settled amongst his charming features that express his pleasure in this all. “Unless you wanna keep them on?”

It’s a rhetorical question, a trap set up to see if you’ll bite and despite it all, the excitement of what’s to come leads you right where Jack wants you. Lifting your hips with an embarrassing ache in between your legs as you lie in anticipation, continuing on with your reading as Jack goes back to teasing you endlessly.

“Gettin’ pretty worked up over this story, huh?” echoes Jack. “I can tell.”

To demonstrate the meaning of his words, he blows a cool breeze against you that makes you mewl and draw your thighs closer at the sensation. Heart thudding against your chest, your bewildered gaze gravitates back to Jack who kisses you through the fabric of your underwear and has you fumbling for words.

“I didn’t say you could stop reading,” Jack removes his lips, peering up at you with a look that melts you into a pathetic pool of yourself. “You stop, I stop. Sound fair?”

That sounds anything but fair, but who are you to say so? He clearly holds all the power in this situation, you dancing right in the palm of his hand. This has escalated beyond a point of no return and you’re not backing out now so you oblige, opening your mouth to read but uttering out nothing more than a moan as Jack pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers gliding through your wet folds.

“So satisfying to tease you when your reactions are this good,” he rasps, followed by a low chuckle as his calloused fingertip circles around your clit, eliciting the buck of your hips and the waiver in your voice. “Anyways, you were saying?”

You’re grasping for straws here, trying to tie yourself down to the little sanity (and patience) you have as your frantic eyes try and find where you last left off, straying away every couple of words as Jack does nothing more than use his fingers to distract you.

“Words, baby. Use your words,” he instructs, and it’s the sexist thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “We follow...”

“We follow..the people,” you falter, voice wobbly. “We follow the people in…”

Somewhere in that sentence, a hefty exhale blows past your mouth as Jack moves two fingers into you, the curl of them accentuating the end of your sentence with a moan.

“Always sound so pretty with my fingers in you,” muses Jack, tone low and memorised as he works said fingers in and out of you, your slick building all around his fingers. “Can’t get enough of it.”

You do a subpar job of reading the next few lines as Jack’s fingers pick up the pace, moving deeper in you to milk every reaction you give him mixed in with your slurred words. Your attempt at remaining coherent diminishes completely when Jack’s lips find their way to your swollen clit, a light press of the lips against the hood of your clit before he’s sucking on the bud.

Your words come out in stutters, voice trembling pathetically as he wraps you around his fingers, making a mess of you in the form of kitten licks against your clit and nibble fingers coaxing your building orgasm out of you. His motions stop every time you get lost in the feeling of him sucking your clit, fingers tangled in his locks of hair. And with a whine, you compel with his previous instructions, reading along with the world’s prettiest distraction in between your legs.

Somehow, you make it to the next page without much delay, Jack’s mouth trained on you as he laps up every bit of you, tongue drawing all kinds of figures against or around your clit. You’re clenching around his fingers more than you can forgive yourself for, body running hot as the sounds of your slick echo throughout the room, the pit in your stomach only growing.

“Just like that, princess,” he hums against your clit, the sensation drawing a tight-lipped whimper from you as your hips follow the vibration. “How many more pages until the chapter’s finished? I don’t think you’re gonna last long.”

And, it’s all true. Body twitching, toes curling and cunt spasming around his fingers that curl in you. Your brain can barely keep up at this point. “So many.”

Jack tsks, his thumb replacing his lips against your clit as he moves it in slow circles. “You think you can hold on till then?”

You answer truthfully, however embarrassing it may be. “No.”

He laughs briefly when he hits that spongy part inside of you, your back bowing off the stacked pillows behind you as Jack continues to hit the exact spot that has you seeing stars.

“How ‘bout a compromise?” Jack starts, your hips lifting to meet the insistent thrust of his fingers. “You tell me how badly you wanna come, and you get to ditch the book whilst I make you come. Sounds good?”

An awfully generous offer considering how your brain has turned to mush and can barely keep up with any of the inked words on the page right now. So, you agree. Enthusiastically.

“Please,” you mewl with a puckered forehead, gazing down at your beautiful boyfriend with his tousled hair and glossy lips. A sight for sore eyes. “Please, J. I wanna come.”

“How bad?” He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes challenge yours.

“So bad,” you keen when his other hand lays over your stomach, applying pressure to the spongy spot that teethers you on the very edge. “Fuck, it’s only you. Only you can…make me feel good. Please, J.”

The begging works. It always works and with that, you drop your book, long discarded amidst the mess of the sheets as your fingers tangle in Jack’s hair as he sucks roughly on your clit again. Rocking up against his mouth, the angle of his fingers renders you completely at his mercy, uttering stuttery breaths as he brings you over the edge, applying pressure in all the right places because he knows your body better than you do, gushing slick flowing from you as you ride out your high, brain reduced to syrup.

He doesn’t even wait before you’ve caught your breath that he sends you a flirtatious wink in between your quivering thighs. “So, opera date next week?”

#jh86 #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes smut #jack hughes imagine #smut #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #jack hughes #residenthughes

786 notes · View notes

chalametluvrz · 2 months

Text

dating timothee chalamet

timothee x afab!reader (mainly gn! expect on nsfw bits)

towards the start of the relationship, i think he'd be pretty anxious

he'd often find himself messing around with his hands a lot on dates

or stumbling over his words a little too much with a small giggle

if you've ever seen old interviews of him when he was younger. you know the ones where he gets all shy and giggly? that's exactly how i envision him to be with you

after some time, that's slowly replaced with his hyperactive ass

and let me tell you, boy never shuts the fuck up that's not a bad thing

because of his schedule, he rarely gets to see you in person

so whenever he does, he just has so much to tell you and so much to talk about that he just ends up coming out with a cluster-fuck of words

he always tries to facetime you at least a couple times a week

and let me tell you, the call will always start with him saying 'oh, i missed your pretty face' or 'seeing you has made my day'

boy is madly in love

and even though he hasn't said it yet, it's fairly obvious he's not hiding anything

he's the kind of person to want to keep your relationship on the down low

because if you're also famous, he wouldn't want to cause any issues or drama through tabloids

and if you aren't, he'd feel awful dragging you into the world of hollywood

eventually though, as most celeb relationships do, you got found out

someone caught you out on your 6 months anniversary

and that was it; twitter was going mental

timothee soon figured out that he probably had to say something

but honestly, he was kind of relieved he didn't have to hide you anymore

the morning you two woke up and saw yourselves going viral on twitter, there was a bit of a mad scramble between the two of you

before eventually, timothee chilled out

'but now i don't need to hide we're together, anymore. i can let the world know you're mine.' he'd say to your confusion at his relaxed state

cute but also now all of timmy's fans are stalking your instagram

cooking meals together!!!

i have a feeling timothee's love languages are more tailored towards physical touch and acts of service tell me im wrong

so cooking together is such a beautiful thing for him

as much as timothee loves taking you out, i think he'd much prefer to cook a fancy pasta dish together with wine over that any day

he also strikes me as a cosy movie date guy

but honestly, it more than likely turns into something else

don't fight me on his, he's a horny guy

like bro would get a hard-on just snuggling with you

when you first started dating, he'd get all shy about it

he'd apologise frantically and his face would be redder than ever

after dating for some time, he'd be less phased

unless you showed and expressed discomfort with it of course

after the shock of you dating slowly weaved out of the fans

timothee would definitely start posting you on his instagram

he just needed the world to know how obsessed he is with you

arguments are rare

extremely rare

they usually only happen when timothee is stressed

feelings get heated and you end up making some snippy comments at each other before one of you gets up and leaves the room

after you've both had time to cool down, you're both mature enough to talk it out and apologise for whatever each of you or one of you has done

communication is a big thing for timmy, so i think arguments are heavily avoided because he encourages you to come to him about anything

any concerns, rants and problems you have, he wants to know

he's a flirter, let me tell you that thankfully not with others

always dazzling you with compliments

you're in the crowd at a press tour? he's staring, smirking and winking at you the whole time

you're supporting him whilst he's on set? the man can't take his eyes off you and is coming to hold you the second the shot is taken

you're on facetime? every odd sentence is him saying some suggestive comment or simply how stunning you are

the man cannot get enough of you

going back to the horny thing...

he has a high sex drive

there's absolutely no doubt about it

he is a giver!!! the man aims to please!!!

could eat you out for days

i've already made a headcanon about him eating you out so i will be brief BUT!!!

he's messy!!! the wetter the better!!!

will overstimulate you with hid tongue any day

and then make sure you cum on his cock as well

you know what they say about tall, skinny boys? wink wink

i'd say he's a good 7 inches, 7 1/2 at a push

he knows how to please you, and he's eager to learn what makes you tick

even though he's mainly a dom, i can see him being a sub at times

only on rare assurances though

being his date to things like the met gala, oscars etc

after being open about your relationship, he couldn't wait to take you everywhere and anywhere with him

loves it when you wear his clothes

but i feel like all boys do?

especially when he's away, opening up a facetime call to see you sat there in one of his t-shirts. he actually thinks his heart might implode.

this boy will actually love you with his whole heart

the cutest, softest and proudest boyfriend around fr

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet headcanon #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet scenario #timothee chalamet drabble #laurie laurence #paul atreides #willy wonka #lee bones and all #little women #dune #wonka #headcanons #imagine #smut #drabble

541 notes · View notes

cherubify · 1 month

Text

PUPPY LOVE / LEON KENNEDY

3827 words

cw: puppy hybrid f!reader, masturbation, dirty talk, virginity, fingering, mentions of other characters and lore / minors dni

Leon didn't know what to do when he found you that night. He had returned from the gym when he found a little thing sitting at the steps outside his apartment complex. You were a little mutt, curled up into a trembling ball. Your fluffy tail coiled around your shaggy, dirty fur as your big puppy eyes stared up at him.

It would've been cruel to leave you to the elements, he lamented. And how cruel of a human would he be to say no when you began wagging your tail when you met his eyes?

"It's almost like you want me to take you home," he squats down at the base of the stairs. He held out his fingers and you sniffed him cautiously. When you had your fill, you lapped at the pads of his fingers with a soft yip. He stroked your droopy ears halfheartedly.

Just one night, he decided. He'd take you in, give you a shower, a meal and find your owners at first light tomorrow. If he failed to locate them, surely the local shelter would take you in, right?

So he scooped you up and brought you into his little apartment. It wasn't anything fancy, small for two but cosy enough for a single guy. He set you on the floor and you sniffed the tiles curiously. You wrinkled your nose and shook your head.

"C'mon," Leon gestured for you to follow, and you obediently padded after him into the bathroom. He placed you in the bathtub and ran a warm bath for you. It was a little scary so you tried to climb out a few times. But his firm grip prevented you from running, so you gave up and let him do as he wished.

When he finished, he rubbed you dry with a fluffy towel and a blowdryer. It was way scarier than the bath, but you dared not to escape when he furrowed his brows and stared at you pointedly. You whimpered as the stranger rubbed his hands all over your fluffy body.

Despite his rugged touch and scary frowns, he was a kind man. He even prepared a bowl of shredded meat for you. Up until now, you had been scavenging for scraps in the alleys.

"Slow down," he ordered. He squatted beside you and ran his fingers through your fur. "You're gonna throw up if you force it all down."

He was right, you did barf out your insides later. But a soft whine and well practiced sad puppy eyes did the trick to placate him.

You paced on top of a nest of towels. Leon had prepared it for you beside his bed. When you were satisfied, you curled into a ball and laid your head on your paws.

The brunette plopped onto his bed. Shirtless, he was enveloped by the soft glow of moonlight. Leon gazed tiredly at the puppy across him. He didn't expect this much work for a tiny mutt like you.

"It's just for tonight, so don't get too comfortable here. You hear me?" he warned as he fell back onto his mattress.

You yipped once. He closed his eyes, ready to let sleep take him.

On the brink of consciousness, he heard the sheets rustle. With one eye open, he saw you clamber up the bed clumsily, tiny paws gripping the sheets. You crawled over and settled beside him. You rested your head sweetly, droopy ears pressed against your head. Almost as if you were asking to sleep next to him.

Too tired to react, he closed his eyes. Then day came and he began his search.

…

Somehow, an entire month passed and there were still no signs of your owners. He even painstakingly left posters in the neighbourhood with a printed photo of you and his house number. However, nobody contacted him. Other than that one grandma that attempted to hook him up with her daughter. But he digressed.

His plan to drop you off at a shelter also backfired. When he walked into the building, the lady at the desk recoiled the moment she laid eyes on you. You even bore your teeth at her, which you never did. According to her, the 'mongrel' in his hands had caused a hell load of trouble during its stay. A fire broke out in the shelter a while back, and you had escaped during the chaos.

When he enquired if anyone else would be willing to take you in, you began to put up a fight and caused quite the scene in the shelter. So he begrudgingly left with you and bite marks punctured in his sweater. He reprimanded you about it later at home.

"You're such a pain," he lamented as he scooped pellets into your bowl. It was no gourmet meal, but it was delicious enough to elicit a delighted yip.

You learnt that this man was called Leon Scott Kennedy. He was a government agent, whatever that meant. He was smart, handsome and a huge tease. He would slap your sides playfully to disturb you, even though he knew you would jump around unhappily after. Despite his mischievous behaviour and quips, he treated you kindly and patiently. You liked that about him. He was much kinder than the people you encountered on the streets.

But sometimes, you could feel a deep sadness emanating from him. At times, he would wake up in cold sweat. He never spoke about it– but he would stand at the balcony, staring at the night sky with a distant look in his tired, blue eyes. You hated feeling helpless, you yearned to comfort him. But all you could do was sit by him patiently, hoping your feelings could reach him.

As you lost yourself to your thoughts, the agent sat at the dining table, a can of beer in his hand. He rested his chin on his palm, swirling his drink mindlessly. Usually he would spend his evenings at the gym and occasionally in a bar. But now with you by his side, he made the conscious effort to return home earlier.

He watched from the corner of his eyes. You were hunched over your food bowl, gobbling your dinner. For such a small thing, you sure had a voracious appetite. You always ate like you were still a starved pup.

"Slow down," he chuckled. He leaned forward, fingers extended to you. You eagerly approached, wagging tail and all. He petted you with a smirk, "The food's not going anywhere, y'know?"

You lapped at his fingers playfully. Then you resumed wolfing down your pellets. The brunette wiped the slobber off his fingers on his sweatpants.

At this rate, you were his full fledged pet dog. A liability, but a cute one. Not so cute when you tried to bite him when he pissed you off. Which rarely happened, but still. He rubbed his temples together, wrinkles deeply etched in his forehead.

But there was no way he could keep you in the long run, especially when there was no guarantee if he would always make it back home.

"What am I gonna do with you?" he sighed.

The stress radiating from your owner perked you up. You peered up from your bowl for the second time.

You tilted your head. A moment of silence passed and your jaw twitched, "Do... do?"

His blue eyes snapped to you and you wagged your tail curiously. His fingers slipped and his beer splashed onto the table.

"I have bad news for you. And good news too," a man's voice filled the house. Leon left the house phone on speaker and you paced around nervously.

"Let's hear it, Chris. Bad news first," he said.

"We've tracked the origin of your dog. Turns out Umbrella's been busier than we thought," Chris lowered his voice. "She was a test subject, along with other mutts, likely her litter. It was a similar project to Project Cerberus, but they produced inferior results. They were dumped in the Arklay Mountains. It’s likely they were torn to shreds by the pack there."

Leon glanced at you warily; your eyes dropped as he maintained eye contact, "So she's dangerous?”

To think that a B.O.W had been sleeping next to him for the past month. How careless he had been.

Chris hummed, "Not exactly. The T-virus in her is dead. Here’s the good news: the guys from the labs said she carries antibodies for the strain she was infected with. The higher-ups are eager to extract her blood for studies."

"Okay, but how does that explain her aboty to talk?" Leon plopped down on the couch. You padded over and sat at his feet. "Did the virus mutate and turn her into some- some hybrid creature?"

"Beats me. But that's all I know. If I find out more, I’ll let you know," the man said before ending the call. The line beeped and Leon turned off speaker mode.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. You peered at him with your innocent puppy eyes. You had not spoken much since that night. But there was a newfound intelligence apparent in your eyes. picked you up and set you onto his lap.

"So you were abandoned by those bastards. Never would have guessed. Small world," he commented.

"Small... world," you mimicked. You placed your paws onto his chest and lapped at his face. His stubble was rough against your tongue, but you licked him anyway. A ghost of a smile settled on his face as he petted you. His face lit up suddenly.

“Oh! You’ve been nameless this whole time. I think it’s time I give you one. What do you think of… (name)?"

You shook your head, ears swaying side to side. He raised his brows, "Then, how about... Ada?"

You growled and barked, legs scrambling against him. He held you back and chuckled, "Just kidding. How about... (y/n)?"

He stroked your fur. You leaned against him and indulged in the warmth in his pets.

"I'm guessing you like it. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He smiled, and you thumped your tail on his lap.

After that call, US-STRATCOM tasked Leon with babysitting you. The job was quite simple: ensure the special collar you wore stayed on at all times. It would track any fluctuations in your physical and mental state. An application on a tracking device would notify him of any changes too. Lastly, he would report to the research team on any developmental changes, such as improved speech, et cetera. From time to time, you would visit for blood samples too.

Thus, Leon was withheld from special operations temporarily.

…

Almost three months have passed since he found you, and about a month since he was tasked with your care. When he found you, you were mostly skin and bones. Now you had enough chub for him to pinch and tease. Much to your displeasure, eliciting distressed whines and playful bites from you. You had grown on him in such a short period of time. And him, to you.

Whenever he left and returned for work, you would sit at the door and bark greetings with a swishing tail. When he plopped down onto the couch, you would sprawl yourself on his thighs, nestling comfortably like he was your bed.

Leon was amused. He had never gotten a thigh pillow before but this dog somehow beat him to it. Unbelievable.

There were nights– or days– where he would return after meeting women. And those days were the least pleasant for you. You would growl brokenly with little fangs displayed, tail pinned between your legs.

To placate you, Leon would sacrifice his clothes and let you cover his face with dog slobber. You would spend the rest of the day marking him with your scent, burying yourself in every nook and cranny of his body. Only when you were appeased would you return to your sweet, easygoing self.

"You're such a needy pup," he exhaled sleepily. You were still busy rubbing your little body against his side even in the middle of the night. He placed a heavy hand atop your head. "Sleep."

You whined and relented, resting your head on his side. Big innocent eyes blinked at him as he stroked your head.

It should be annoying– the way you clung to him like super glue. But somehow he couldn't really be mad. Who could be with such a good girl? He stroked your ears fondly, he found it cute that you were this clingy with him, your owner.

But besides that, there’s been something kind of strange happening lately. Sometimes, Leon would find his bed sheets dampened with a strange liquid. It was sweet, with hints of arousal he was familiar with that women carried. But he never brought women home. And his sweet pup was not getting her cheeks clapped either. So where did this strange liquid originate from?

Whenever he asked you, you would run off to occupy yourself with toys. So he figured maybe you've been having wet dreams. If dogs could have them.

It was later than usual when your owner returned. When he called for you, silence greeted him back. Strange, you were usually at his beck and call. He searched his bag for his tracker and checked the tiny green screen. A red dot flashed incessantly on the screen, signaling a change in your physical or neurological state. He lowered his bags and whipped out his pistol. Had the T-virus returned and taken over you?

He scanned the halls carefully before arriving at the entrance of his bedroom. He listened intently. Soft, unsteady sounds leaked into the hallway. It sounded like whimpers. Had (y/n) finally transformed into a monster?

His hand rested on the doorknob. Then he turned it and slowly entered the room. He was attacked by the heavy scent of pheromones. It clung heavily in the air, and he shielded his nose with his arm as he scanned his surroundings. His gun leveled on his bed, where you lay.

Your legs hung in the air, back arched as your hand pressed against your soft, glistening mound. The moonlight filtering through the balcony curtains cast a silver glow onto the stranger. Your fingers drove into your insides greedily in a steady yet clumsy pace. The hand clamped over your mouth did little to mask your whimpers and sighs. He lowered his gun slowly.

"Leon..." Your sweet voice filled the air. You panted softly, toes curling as you chanted his name. That's when he noticed your tail, the same shade of fur as his puppy hybrid. And the special collar and the floppy ears atop your head were telltale signs. It seemed like you had transformed– albeit into something else. He pocketed his gun and stood at the doorway. You were too deep in your haze to notice him, despite the heavy gaze from your sole audience.

You were inexperienced– it was apparent in your sloppy movements. His sweet pup didn't know how to make herself feel good, huh? Maybe he could help with that– wait, what would you think if you knew these sick thoughts?

He licked his lips. It should disgust him. You were his lovely pet. So why was he getting excited instead?

A long winded sigh snapped him out of his daze. Toes clenched, you unfurled and clenched them rhythmically as you sped up. A cry escaped you as your stomach fluttered. You couldn’t cum, you’ve been trying for hours.

With a heavy sigh, you lowered your legs and started to sit up when your eyes met his. You stopped in your tracks and he lifted a brow.

"I think you forgot to ask if I enjoyed the show," he teased. Your blood ran cold. How long had your owner been watching you...?

"T-This isn't what you think it is," you stuttered, grabbing the sheets to hide your body. You squeezed your shoulders together fearfully, appearing smaller.

"Looked like you were enjoying yourself."

Leon sat beside you, his weight on the mattress dipped you towards him. He set his gun and tracker onto the bedside table. You turned away from him, ears pinned to your head.

"I don't know what you're t-talking about."

"Playing dumb? C'mon, you were begging for me." He chuckled darkly, and you hid your face in the sheets in your hands. You tried to leave, but he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap.

"How 'bout your owner shows you how to feel real good?"

. . .

Your legs trembled as he spread them further with his. Sitting on his lap, he had an arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you securely against him. The hard-on pressing against your back sent shivers down your spine. He teased your slick slit as he dragged his thumb up and down, up and down in a slow motion.

"How much?" He demanded, his voice low and dark. You let out a whimper when he pressed against your clit, sending a jolt down your core. "How far have you gone?"

"Leon," you begged softly, "Please stop. You're scaring me."

"Don't you think it's too late to stop?" His chest rumbled with laughter, and you clenched embarrassingly. "Besides, who was the one moaning my name like a little whore? C'mon, tell me."

You shook your head, but you gasped when he spanked your pussy. The bundle of nerves twitched as you trembled. You leaned forward slightly, panting as you clutched his arm weakly. Instinctively, you tried to close your legs but he forced them open again.

"If you try that one more time I'm gonna punish you," he whispered into your ear. He snaked his warm tongue along the shell of your ear and you let out a muted moan. As he teased your ear, a digit gingerly slid into your weeping cunt.

"N-No... Leon- o-oh..." you tried to struggle but your eyes rolled back from the simple ministration. You sighed sweetly as you leaned into him. A smirk settled on his face. He knew you were bullshitting. Thank god for your honest pussy.

"Stop trying to put up a fight," the brunette muttered as he stroked your walls experimentally. You bit your lip and clung to his forearm. "Just feel it."

Leon kissed the back of your head as he slid another digit in. He was knuckles deep within you when you relaxed against him. Your chest heaved with soft pants as you gazed down at where you were connected. Such a good girl, you stopped putting up a fight when you finally got what you wanted. He was sure to reward you for your good behaviour.

He began to move, eliciting whispery moans and whines from your soft lips. The sound of your wetness and his thrusting filled the room. Any shred of embarrassment had dissipated with each loving stroke of his fingers. Your brain was turning into mushy matter. You could barely hold a coherent thought. It felt so different from when you did it, and so, so much better. If only you had gotten his help from the start, then you could've felt this good all along.

You clutched him weakly, body trembling as you panted harder with each thrust. The funny feeling in your belly was growing, pulsating like a burning star. You pushed against him, eyes glassy. "Owner- Leon-'' you babbled, "Stop stop stop-"

He kissed the top of your head tenderly, "I'm here. Just be a good girl and feel it all."

He coaxed you through your orgasm as you shook and trembled like a leaf in the wind. When you finally finished, he withdrew his fingers from you with a soft squelch. You laid limply in him, thighs twitching as stars twinkled in your blurry vision.

His slick fingers rested against your plush lips. You willingly open up and lap at his digits.The taste of your arousal was sweet but slightly bitter, a strange combination, you sleepily wondered as you swirled your tongue around his appendages.

With a soft pop, you freed his fingers and collapsed against his chest entirely. You tried to match your breathing with his, and he stroked your hair and side lovingly. A few moments passed when he finally spoke up.

"Since when did you start transforming? If that's the right word." His voice was soft, like he genuinely wanted to know.

You peered up at him meekly. Your volume fell with each word, "For a few weeks. I didn't know how to tell you. Was scared that you'd abandon me. And you won't be my owner anymore."

"You don’t have to worry about that." He frowned. He placed a fleeting kiss on your lips, "I’m not gonna abandon you. Not now, or ever."

You clung to him, placing your head over his heart. It drummed in the confines of his chest, like an unwilling prisoner. You curled up against him as he looped an arm around your smaller form.

"So those fluids were from you all along?"

You nestled into him. You hummed in agreement, and he looked up at the ceiling.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” he laughed. “You could’ve told me sooner. Then I could’ve helped.”

"... I was jealous," you mumbled to him.

"Huh? Did you say something?"

You pouted and buried your face in his chest. Your tail thumped heavily on the bed and he raised a brow questioningly.

. . .

"Where did you get that?" He peered up from his newspaper. The agent sat on the couch, staring at the girl across from him.

You wore an oversized tee that looked like it would fall off your shoulder at any second. It hung above your knees. And when you twirled, he caught sight of your polka dotted panties. He slowly set down his newspaper.

You twirled for him again. "I look super cute, don't I? I found it in your closet."

"Knew it. It looks good," he gestured for you to come, and you hopped towards him. You took a seat on his lap, your legs placed over his. He stroked your hair gently and kissed your nose. "Though I think you'd be even cuter without it."

"Huh? Wait-" you tried to escape but he caught your wrists. He pulled your shirt over your head and swiftly repositioned you so that you laid on the couch whilst he knelt between your legs.

The brunette hooked your legs over his broad shoulders, maintaining eye contact as he pried your thighs open. He pressed a kiss against your inner thigh and he hooked your underwear with his fingers. As he pressed more kisses to your thighs, he he slowly pulled down your panties. Your breath hitched in your throat.

"How do you want it today?" He muttered against your skin.

"Anything if it makes owner happy," you blushed as you curled your toes expectantly.

He grinned.

"Good pup.”

all content written by @puppyina ! do not repost, edit or plagiarise. requests are open for any past written characters.

506 notes · View notes

monzabee · 9 months

Text

déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.

Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!

Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.

You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”

“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”

“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”

Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.

“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”

“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.

Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”

He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.

You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”

He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.

Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”

Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”

He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."

You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."

Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"

You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."

He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"

You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”

As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.

Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.

"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.

Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."

But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"

You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.

Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."

You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.

Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."

Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."

As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."

You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."

He grins, "You love it, though."

You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”

The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.

"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"

Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.

His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"

“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.

His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”

Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”

Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.

After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.

You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"

"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"

“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”

“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”

You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.

‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.

With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.

He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.

Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”

You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.

“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”

Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”

“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”

“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”

You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."

Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."

And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.

“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”

“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.

“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.

“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”

A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”

You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”

“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”

Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.

Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.

It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.

You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”

You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”

“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”

The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”

“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”

“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”

“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”

As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.

You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”

“Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”

You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”

Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”

With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.

“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”

After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.

You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”

You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”

“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”

“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”

“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”

Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”

It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.

Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.

So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”

He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.

“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.

You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”

He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”

“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”

You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”

You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”

“Well when you put it like that–”

“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”

“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”

As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”

“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.

You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”

His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.

“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”

His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”

It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff

1K notes · View notes

sinner-as-saint · 10 months

Text

you're no good for me.

Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: After leaving a well-paying job you hated, you took the money you had saved and decided to roam around Europe: Paris, Monaco, Italy, Greece, trying to find a new purpose in life. That’s when you meet this drop dead gorgeous older man named Bucky. He’s respectful, funny, kind, flirty, and has a nice yacht. Honestly, he’s all you need at the moment. And together, the two of you embark on a journey that has potential to last a lifetime.

Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties), fluff, sugar daddy!bucky (basically), smut, praise kink, nicknames: princess, baby girl, daddy kink, soft!dom!bucky, HEA.

a/n: inspired by this ask. Thank you @aquariusbarnes

“I guess I never realised solo travelling could get so… lonely, you know?”

You said quietly to your best friend on the phone while you browsed through second-hand books in a small, cosy little bookstore you found while staying in Italy for the week.

“Don’t get me wrong,” You chuckled, “I desperately needed this and I needed to get out of the city but, this is not doing what it should. All I do is eat, sleep, shop, and I have no one to talk to. I guess I can’t even make new friends anymore.”

Your friend sighed, “Of course you can! You should meet new people. Go to a bar, wear something nice, and talk to some guy. Seriously, get some!”

You laughed quietly. “I’m tired of the bar or club thing. That’s what we usually do in the city.” You groaned. “I need something new, and exciting, and-,”

A deep voice spoke from somewhere behind you. “Excuse me, miss.”

You turned around and had to blink a few times to register the sight in front of you. A god of a man. Tall. Well dressed in loose pants, white tank top and a delicious light blue shirt left open to show off his muscular chest. He had longish hair, tied neatly in a low bun. Pretty face, ocean blue eyes. Sharp jaw. And a slight smirk on his pink lips.

He looked older, maybe in his early forties? He radiated elegant masculinity. Very much old money. He looked like he belonged in some fashion show, or the cover of a magazine.

“Uh, I’ll call you in a bit.” You quickly ended the call and gave the man your full attention. “Hello.” You said softly, sounding a little confused as to why would a man like that even stop and talk to anyone.

The man gave you a stunning smile. “I noticed you dropped this.” He held out his hand and there was your tiny purse, in the palm of his large, veiny hands.

“Oh.” You sounded a little embarrassed as you quickly took it from him. “Thank you.” You said, looking up and meeting his dangerously enticing stare.

“Wow,” He said, with a little nervous chuckle. “You’re beautiful.” You froze at that and then he quickly added, “I’m sorry if that was too forward. It’s just… you really are beautiful.” He sounded so sincere, and you hadn’t had a proper conversation with anyone in weeks so you didn’t know how to act.

“Oh, um,” You let out a nervous chuckle too as you looked down at your shoes, embarrassed. “Thank you.” Then you added as a nervous ramble, “I think you’re really beautiful too.”

He smiled, then let out a little laugh which made your skin tingle in the best ways. He raised a perfect eyebrow and asked in his silky smooth, deep voice, “Then how about us beautiful people go get a drink and get to know each other a little better?”

You actually felt your face get really hot as you laughed, “So this is the part where I’ll wake up tomorrow and find out you took my kidney?”

He chuckled. “No, no kidneys will be taken, I promise.” Then he gave you a pretty smile, “Just one drink. You’re too beautiful for me not to steal an hour or two from your day. Else, I’m gonna regret it my whole life.”

“I see you get your way in and out of everything by being a smooth flirt, huh?”

You gave in. And said yes to having a drink with him.

—

One drink turned into a late lunch, then afternoon tea, then an early dinner. The conversation flowed so easily it surprised you. He told you mostly everything about him. You noted that his name was Bucky, he was in his forties, no immediate family as they had all unfortunately passed, he was a bachelor, a businessman, currently taking some months off work to travel and sail across Europe on his yacht.

While on a quick bathroom break, you googled him just to confirm and sure enough, he wasn’t lying. Also, the guy was much more wealthy than he let on. But you liked that. You hated men who bragged constantly.

When it was your turn to give him your back story, you were just as transparent as he was. You mentioned where you were from, how you moved to the city after uni once you found a decent job. You mentioned how although the job paid really well, you quickly realised that being a PA isn’t as glamorous as in the movies or books, but in fact so stressful and anxiety-ridden. So you quickly began hating your job and life. Hence the resignation letter and the sudden tickets to Europe.

“So, you’re here all alone? That’s brave I think.” He said, after you were done narrating your story.

You scoffed before taking a sip of coffee, “No, it's quite the opposite.” You argued, defeatedly. “I couldn’t handle it and I just got up and left. I quite literally packed my stuff and ran away from the city. And now I’m just roaming around, trying to see if I can find a new purpose, I suppose. That’s the opposite of brave. If I were brave I’d face it properly. Like an adult.” Your shoulders drooped down a little.

“Hey,” He said softly. Then reached for your hand and held it in between both of his warm palms.

This was the first time in the past hours where he touched you. He’d been so respectful so far, not once getting too close. But right now, as he held your hand lovingly and as his thumb gently caressed your knuckles, you realised you loved having your hand held by him.

“That’s not true at all.” He said. “You were strong enough to walk away from a situation you no longer wanted to be in, do you realise how brave that is?”

His voice was so understanding and soft, you immediately melted.

He continued, “I mean, you’re braver than me when I was twenty something.” He chuckled at the memory, “My father had just passed, and I was suddenly responsible for the family businesses. And…” He sighed, “How I wish I could’ve packed a suitcase and travel at that age, but I couldn’t. I was so lost at that time too.”

You watched him as he spoke. The intelligence and experience in his eyes. The crinkles by his pretty eyes as he smiled at something he remembered from the past. The sad smile when he mentioned his now dead family. He seemed older and wiser than his age.

“What I’m trying to say here is that you’re so young. This is your time to be selfish with your years. You don’t like a job? Leave it, find another. You don’t want to be in the city? Leave that too, travel the world. Of course, you must have some sort of makeshift plan of where you might want to be in the next five or ten years, but for the most part, live for right now.” He gave you an enchanting smile. “So tell me, where do you want to be right now?”

The sky began to turn darker. The golden lights from the restaurant made his eyes look magical. Deep blue, and shining like jewels. The chain around his neck caught the light and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to yank on it with your teeth…

Woah. Where did that come from?

“Just… away. For everything.” You answered, truthfully. Wasn’t that what you were looking for? An escape? Something new and exciting. And right now with your hand in Bucky’s warm ones, this felt new and exciting. And you selfishly wanted it. You wanted this.

“Come with me. Just for tonight. We won’t sail too far from the docks, I promise.” He said, holding your hand firmly in his. “I’ll bring you back tomorrow morning. Kidney and all still in place.” He teased.

You laughed. And said yes because fuck it.

—

Bucky walked with you till your hotel, and waited downstairs in the lobby while you got your things for the night. Once you met him back downstairs, he offered to carry your backpack while the two of you walked towards the docks.

Once you reached his yacht, you had to refrain from dropping your jaw. “Oh, she’s pretty.” You whispered as he held your hand and helped you onto it.

He smiled and said, “She’s my favourite.” Because of course he owned other luxury yachts.

The more steps you took inside the boat, the more mesmerised you got. He had a full staff even. Bucky gave you a quick tour, showed you the bar, the hot tubs, the main deck, and all. Then led you to a spacious bedroom.

“Get settled,” He said, “I’m just gonna get us out a bit further into the water.” He traced a gentle finger down your cheek and you found yourself nodding immediately. Then he paused, and said, “If you don’t wanna be down here alone, come find me at the helm. Okay, babygirl?”

You froze for just a fraction of a moment, then quickly smiled and nodded again. Bucky left with a wink and once the door closed behind him, you let out a loud sigh. Fuck, he was so dreamy.

Once he left and you explored the room a little bit, you realised you didn’t in fact want to be here all alone. So as the boat moved smoothly, you took a quick shower, got changed into your swimsuit, with a flowy beach cover up and went to find Bucky.

Finding the helm was easy. On your way there, you saw two staff members and they both smiled at you. For a moment you wondered if they were thinking of you as just another young girl on a rich man’s boat. Oh well, whatever.

You found Bucky standing in the middle of the area, facing multiple screens and the helm itself and so many buttons and switches it made your brain hurt.

“Hello captain.” You said, stepping closer to him. The sun was setting now, and it was all orange and pink, quickly becoming dark blue.

Bucky gave you a bright smile, “Hello you.” He grabbed your hand and placed it on the helm, “Here,” He came up and stood right behind you, both of you steering the boat, “There you go, keep it straight. Just like that, see?”

You laughed, while your heart raced both at the excitement of manoeuvring such a giant boat, but also because of how close Bucky was. Your back was right against his chest, but he was still keeping a good inch or two between your bodies.

“Alright,” He said after a while, “We’ll stop here for tonight. Come, the stars look great from the deck.”

He held your hand and led you out onto the spotlessly clean, spacious main deck. There was a circular fireplace in the middle, surrounded by sofas and a large hot tub in the corner. And the view… oh the view was to die for. The moment Bucky let go of your hand, you rushed to look over the handrail. The water reflected the colours of the sunset, and the sky. The stars began twinkling, the more you looked the more of them you found. The light summer breeze was just cool enough.

“It’s so beautiful out here.” You whispered, looking over at the shore, where more and more lights were turning on. You could see the place at which you’d just had dinner. You could also see the bookstore if you squinted. Just then, you felt a warmth press up against you.

You smiled as Bucky wrapped his arms around you from behind, placing his chin on your shoulder and holding you close. “Just like you, baby girl.” He whispered into your ear.

You froze again, a familiar warmth washing over you at the nickname. A tingling sensation between your things which made you want to clench them together. Bucky must've felt the way you tensed up because he pulled away immediately.

“I didn’t mean to make you-,”

You cut him off quickly as you turned to face him, “Oh no, no. I don’t mind that.” You laughed, now a little shy. “It’s just that,” You couldn’t look at his pretty face as you admitted, “you make me a little nervous.”

He laughed at that, and wrapped his arms around you once again. “Do I?” He teased.

You hid your face by shoving it into the crook of his neck, which made him laugh even more. You couldn’t help but breathe in his scent. Fuck, it had been messing with you the whole day almost. He smelt like sin. Like pure, dangerous sin. But then he had that sweet, bright smile. And the contrast was making you dizzy.

“Don’t hide from me, baby.” He held the back of your neck gently as he pulled your face back so he could look at you.

You almost kissed him right there and then. He looked so good in this golden sunset. But you didn’t want to seem too desperate so you-

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, cutting off whatever you’d been thinking about. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.” He admitted, with a handsome smirk. “So, can I? Please?” He gave you the softest puppy dog look ever. And you melted.

You nodded once and the next thing you knew, he pushed you against the handrail and kissed you deeply. Lips soft against your own, his tongue stroking yours in a way that made you want to ride him until the sun came up the next morning. His hand remained at your waist, the other holding your head gently as he kissed you even deeper.

“Fuck,” He groaned against your lips. “Does all of you tastes just as sweet as your mouth, babygirl?” He chuckled when you whined and squirmed. “I can’t wait to find out.” He whispered before kissing you again.

Your brain was all foggy with desire. Your body warm and tingly under his touch. His mouth left yours and he kissed down your chin, and all over your neck and collarbones before kissing your lips again. “Bucky,” You gasped into the kiss when you felt his hand moving downward, towards your inner thighs.

“Too much, baby?” He asked, pulling away to look down into your eager eyes. “Are we moving too fast?”

You smiled up at him, “No. This is okay.” You grabbed his wrist and moved his hand even closer to where you desperately needed him. The thin swimsuit was all that separated his hand from the wetness accumulating at your core.

He held your stare as he moved the fabric to the side and carefully touched your throbbing clit. You squirmed, grinding against his fingers slowly. He chuckled, “Oh?” He smeared your wetness around a little more, “All that for me? Hmm?” He leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth while his fingers moved up and down your wet slit. “Have you been this wet the whole time we were together?”

You couldn’t help but whisper a quiet, “Yes…”

He smirked, kissing your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? So unfair of you to keep this from me, babygirl.” He carefully slid a finger inside you, moving it in and out of you so slowly you couldn’t help but moan. “I would’ve taken care of you much sooner had I known you were dripping wet for me this whole time.”

You whined again at the sound of his shameless words. “Please…” You begged.

Bucky pulled away to look right into your eyes as he slid another finger inside you, moving both of them in and out of you while his thumb toyed with your clit. “Please what, baby?”

You squirmed, holding onto him for dear life while moving your hips in time with his fingers. “Please,” You begged again.

He smirked, “Use your words, princess.” He cooed. “Come on, tell daddy what you want and he’ll give it to you, baby.”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loud, afraid the staff might hear what a dirty young woman you were being. “I want to come, please.” You whispered, face burning at the lust in your voice.

Bucky smiled in triumph. “There, wasn’t that easy?” He kissed your lips again, “Of course you can come, babygirl. You’ve been so good all day,” He said, “So kind and polite,” He chuckled, “Pretending like you didn’t want to climb into my lap anytime you looked into my eyes.”

You gasped, both in pleasure as his fingers touched a sensitive spot, but also because he had just read you like a book.

Bucky smirked. “What? You think I didn’t see it?” He leaned closer, lips brushing against your open mouth as he spoke, “I saw the way you looked at me. Longing and desire in your eyes. You just want to be taken care of. Just want a man to hold you and tell you it’s all gonna be okay and that you’re safe? Hmm?”

His fingers brought you right to that edge. You were a whimpering mess by then, his words making you even more dizzy.

“Look at me, baby.” When you did look up at him, he smiled softly down at you, “It’s okay babygirl, you’re with daddy now. You’re safe, and I’m gonna take care of you. Okay? Now, can you be my good girl and come for me? Hmm? Can you do that for daddy, baby?”

You came with a loud whimper, coming undone all over his fingers. Bucky watched you in awe, lips parted as he breathed deeper along with you.

“That’s a good girl,” He whispered, leaning in for a kiss. “You are so beautiful, babygirl.”

You kissed him back with even more passion than before, and your hands began exploring his body. His chest, down to his toned stomach, and further down… but then he stopped you by grabbing your wrists.

“Later, baby. I don’t want to rush.” He said. “I’m gonna take my time with you.” He promised. “Now come on, get in the tub. Don’t want you to get too chilly.” He pointed towards the tub and you began walking towards it. When you turned around you found him walking in the other direction, towards the mini bar.

You turned back around and headed over to the tub finally. You took the beach cover off and stepped in, nearly squealing with how perfectly hot the water was. Once you took your seat and submerged yourself till your shoulders, you noticed Bucky walked over with champagne flutes and a champagne bottle.

But not just that. He was also not wearing anything other than tight black boxers which left very little to the imagination. You had to turn your head just so you’d look away from the gorgeousness that was this man in front of you.

But of course, he caught the look. “Don’t look away, babygirl.” He said as he stepped in and sat down next to you, his thigh rubbing against yours, “You can look. I don’t mind.” He smirked, and winked at you before popping open the champagne.

He handed you a flute filled with bubbles and poured one for himself, set the bottle aside and clinked your flutes together. You each took a sip and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and moan at the taste. Expensive champagne always tasted heavenly.

When you opened your eyes again you found Bucky looking at you intently.

You smirked and asked, “What?”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you onto his lap. You put up no resistance as you settled onto his thighs, an arm around his neck. “Nothing. Just thinking about how you’ll moan with other things in your mouth.”

You chuckled. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” You replied, starting to get a little more playful around him.

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh?” Then leaned in and kissed your neck, making you giggle and pull away. “You’re ticklish I see.”

“Please don’t.” You yelped, and laughed as he tickled you even more. Champagne splashed everywhere, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind. “Stop!” You cried out in between uncontrollable giggles. Right as you were about to fall off his lap, he finally stopped. Kissing your face multiple times to make up for the tickle attack. Once you calmed down you said, “You’re mean. I think I wanna get off your boat now.” You teased.

Bucky tightened his arms around you. “No,” He groaned playfully, “I’m sorry, I’ll make up for it. Right now, I promise.”

One moment you were on his lap, and the next he was lifting you up and sitting you down on the edge of the tub. The handrail was right behind you to support your back, and you giggled as Bucky knelt in the warm water, right in between your thighs.

“What if someone sees?” You asked, looking around to see if you’d find some of the staff members around the deck.

Bucky placed both of his hands on your things and got closer to you. “They won’t.” He assured you. “Now come on, spread those legs for daddy.” He demanded, and you obeyed.

You leaned back into the handrail and parted your legs. Bucky smirked, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer, lowering himself and leaning in until his mouth was right above your core.

“Don’t even try to hide your moans from me. You hear me?” He questioned, holding your stare.

You nodded.

“Say ‘yes daddy’.”

You squirmed, pushing your hips closer to his mouth involuntarily. “Yes, daddy…” Your words ended on a gasp as he placed his mouth down and licked along your slit through the fabric of your swimsuit.

He placed a soft kiss right over your throbbing clit before he finally slid the thin fabric to the side and looked up at you, held your stare as his wet tongue licked down your folds. He moaned loudly as he tasted you. “Knew you’d taste like heaven.” He murmured, going in for more. Eager and impatient to make you come all over his tongue.

Your hands immediately grabbed the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair and gently messing up his neatly tied bun. You giggled at the sight, “I’m sorry I’m messing up your hair.” You whispered, followed by gasps of pleasure as he ate you out relentlessly.

Bucky pulled away for a moment, looking up at you. “I must be doing terrible if you can still speak coherent sentences, babygirl.” He smirked. “I’m sorry, let me do a better job. Hmm?”

You opened your mouth to tell him that he was just perfect but you ended up whining loudly instead as he parted your wet lips and pushed his tongue deeper into you. You threw your head back, resting it on the handrail as you moaned shamelessly, occasionally giggling as his fingers all over your thighs made you slightly ticklish.

His warm tongue stroked you so perfectly, and Bucky growled as you lost control, moving your hips instinctively against his mouth as you chased that feeling of pure bliss.

You whined loudly, goosebumps all over your body. You felt tingles shooting through you as his tongue teased you incessantly. Your fingers tugged harder on his hair, messing it up even more.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He murmured, before moving his mouth upward to suck on your throbbing clit. “You look so pretty like this, baby. All open for me to taste, whining and whimpering…” He playfully bit your inner thigh, “What is it?” He asked as another loud moan escaped your mouth. “Too much? You want to come? You want more? What is it, huh? Tell daddy what you want.”

You just looked down at him, whimpering as you tugged harder on his hair, trying to get his mouth back on you. Your reaction made Bucky chuckle.

“No,” He cooed, “Use your words, baby.”

Damn him.

“Oh please,” You whined, “I want you. I want your mouth… please daddy,” You cried out, trying to clench or rub your thighs together for some kind of friction but his muscular body being between them stopped you from doing that.

Seeing your desperation only deepened his smirk, and increased the mischief in his eyes. “Such a good girl,” He murmured, biting down on your inner thigh before gently pushing his tongue inside of you again. You whimpered under his agonisingly soft touch.

Bucky looked up at you as he teased you with his tongue, the intensity of his gaze making you tremble. The sky was getting darker, the stars shining more and more now. And yet, you couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes.

“You’re all mine, babygirl…” he whispered, thrusting his tongue deeper into you. You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. “Say it.” He demanded, licking up and down your slit, making you grind on his tongue. “Tell me you’ll be mine. Tell me you’re daddy’s good girl.”

You cried out, “I’m daddy’s good girl…” You felt your walls tighten around nothing, and you knew you were close.

Bucky could tell as well. “Then come for daddy, babygirl.” He whispered against your skin before biting down on your inner thigh as you whined under him.

You could only moan and whimper as he kept licking deeper into you. You felt him quicken his pace and you felt the pressure building up in between your hips until you couldn’t handle it anymore and you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering. Humming in satisfaction, Bucky kissed his way up your body again, until he reached your mouth. Carefully, he pulled back into the tub and on his lap as he kissed you deeply.

The warm water felt heavenly, but nowhere near how good his tongue had felt just seconds ago. You sighed in pleasure through the kiss, and you felt him smiling against your lips before he pulled away to look at you.

“Where have you been all my life?” He asked, looking no less than a god in that tub. The soft lights made his eyes look ethereal. The darkening sky as a background made him look even more godly.

You smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you straddled him. “Stuck in a city I don’t like. Doing a job I hated. Surrounded by people I no longer could relate to.” You joked, hiding the painful truth in your words.

Of course, he caught the sadness in your eyes. “Well, you’re here with me right now. Forget about the city, the job, and the people.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, he said, “It’s just you and me right now, princess. Just us, and no one else.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. Warmth from the bubbling water, warmth from his body, the cool breeze, the scent of summer and excitement in the air, it all surrounded you and it couldn’t have been more perfect.

“More champagne, baby?” He asked, pulling away.

“No,” You said, giving him a look he knew all too well. “How about we go inside now?”

Bucky smirked, already moving to grab towels. “Whatever the princess wants.”

—

You and Bucky made a quick stop in the kitchen found in the lower levels of his yacht, to grab some snacks. You held on to your chocolate fondue and strawberries while he held the other goods. And once you made it to the lovely bedroom, the two of you ended up lounging on the bed, just eating and talking about random stuff.

“Wait,” You said, swallowing down a mouthful of rich chocolate and strawberry. “You haven’t been in a relationship in over ten years? A whole decade?” You questioned, right after he finished telling you about how he hadn’t.

Bucky gave you a funny look. “I’m a busy man, babygirl. I didn’t have much time.”

You frowned, confused. “Well surely you’ve liked someone. Or are you too busy to have a crush and all that?”

He chuckled, and you along with him. “No, I haven’t. I guess it’s been just work and more work.”

You sighed and shrugged, reaching for another juicy strawberry, “I can’t even judge you, I haven’t been dating for years either. My last relationship…” You trailed off, “It doesn’t matter, I-,”

Bucky cut you off by grabbing your arm and pulling you on top of him, making you straddle him again. “No, it matters. Tell me what happened.” His tone was serious, caring, and attentive.

You sighed again, “Well, it ended badly. We were both too young I suppose, and then he cheated and we were on and off for a while before I ended it a few years ago.”

Bucky cupped your face, “You deserve so much better than that, baby. You hear me?”

You nodded, smiling down at him. “Look at me now,” You teased, then finally took a bite out of the strawberry, unintentionally moaning. “Oh fuck…” You whined, “This might be the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.” You said.

Bucky smirked, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, “You know, I could give you something even better to put in your mouth, princess.”

You swallowed your fruit and smirked down at him. “Oh?” You played along. “What’s that?”

He caressed your cheek lovingly, “Want daddy to show you?” You nodded enthusiastically. And he said, “Okay, get on your knees, baby.”

You shifted from his lap to kneel in between his legs and in the meantime, Bucky was undoing the towel from around his waist. The sight of his erection had you almost begging just so you could have a taste.

“Do you want to take daddy in your mouth and make him feel good, princess? Hmm?” He gently grabbed your chin so you couldn’t look away from him. “Do you want to make daddy come? Make him feel so good that he fills your mouth with his come, baby?”

You nodded quickly, “Yes. I do.” You couldn’t calm your racing heart as you watched Bucky lean back into the pillows, making himself comfortable while you knelt in between his muscular thighs, his cock pointing up… looking too good not to wrap your mouth around it.

“Go on then, baby.” Bucky’s hand slid into your hair as you leaned down and took him into your mouth.

You moaned, with Bucky’s cock in your mouth, at how good he felt. Warm, thick, veiny.

“Your mouth feels so good, princess,” Bucky cooed, tugging on your hair gently. You looked up at him and took him even further into your mouth. “There we go,” He gasped, “Careful baby, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You whined, that caring tone of his driving you insane. Bucky held your head gently and slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “That’s it, you’re doing so good, babygirl. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He said as you took him in until he hit the back of your throat. “Now be a good girl, and make daddy come.”

You did as he asked, moaning around his cock and using your hand to play with what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Oh princess, you’re so good to daddy.”

Bucky’s groans and moans were delightful. His head thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted slightly as he breathed deeply, occasionally grunting or moaning while you worked to make him come.

“Just like that, babygirl, come on make me come in that pretty mouth.”

You could feel the wetness starting to leak from you again. Fuck, this was so hot. The sounds he made, the sounds your mouth made, the desire and warmth washing over you… it was all too much.

You teased his tip with your tongue, alternating between sucking on it and taking him deep in and out of your mouth until Bucky came with a growl, his grip tightening on your hair for just a moment before he went limp. Chuckling as he emptied into your mouth, and watched you swallow all of him.

“Fuck, baby…” He groaned, “Come here and give me a kiss.” He said once you pulled him out of your mouth and you didn’t hesitate to climb onto his lap again, pressing your mouth against his.

You moaned into the kiss, slowly grinding down on his thigh trying to alleviate the sweet pain in between your legs.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He murmured against your lips, then went in for a kiss again before groaning, “Oh babygirl, daddy’s gotta have you now.” Then he flipped the two of you around, hovering above you as he smiled down at you.

“Is this okay, babygirl?” He asked, caressing your face lovingly. “You still want daddy to make you feel good?”

You trailed your hands up and down his muscular back, and nodded. “Yes,” You smiled up at him, then the chain dangling from his neck caught your eye. Without thinking, you grabbed it in between your teeth and yanked on it playfully.

Bucky laughed looking down at you. “Is that what you want? The chain?” With one hand he got it off of him and put it over your head, you pulled it down until it rested on your neck. “There,” Bucky said, leaning down to kiss your neck, “First gift from daddy to his princess.”

You chuckled, “Why thank you,” You pulled him down for a kiss. He deepened the kiss, his hand drifting down in between your bodies, getting rid of the towel that had been hiding your body from him.

“You are so beautiful,” He whispered against your mouth as his hand touched you everywhere. “Wait, are you on birth control?” He asked.

You chuckled, “Yes, don’t worry.”

“Oh fuck, baby I can’t wait.” He groaned, pulling away to look down at you, “Can I fuck you now? Please? Can daddy make you feel good?”

Your head spun with how badly you wanted him. Especially given how he shamelessly slid his tip up and down your slit. You nodded immediately, “Yes.” You said, “Yes, please.”

He leaned in for a kiss again. He kissed your skin from your mouth to your neck as he carefully slid into you, so gently. “Tell me if I hurt you, baby.” He breathed into your ear. “Is this okay?” He asked, looking down at you. His pretty blue eyes so caring and gentle.

You nodded, “I’m okay.” You whispered, feeling warm all over.

When he pushed even deeper, your walls welcomed him perfectly and he moaned under his breath as he filled you up entirely, inch by inch. You gasped and moaned as he moved so slowly you almost lost your mind.

Bucky swore. Your warmth wrapped around him, gripping him so perfectly he couldn’t help but just stay still for a moment and just enjoy the feeling of being inside you. “Babygirl, you feel so perfect for daddy. Look at me,” Once you did, he smiled down at you and said, “That’s it, keep your eyes on me while I fuck you, okay? I need to know I’m not hurting you.” He said.

That only made you wish he’d fuck you like an animal. You groaned, “You’re not hurting me,” You said, “Please, daddy. Please fuck me harder.”

He chuckled, “There she is,” He whispered into your ear, “You’re daddy’s dirty little girl, aren’t you?” Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your entwined hands above your head as he sped up into you. Fucking you nice and hard, “Does that feel good, baby? Hmm? Does my pretty princess feel good?”

You nodded, moaning shamelessly, “Yes… more, more please.” You cried out, throwing your head back as he started rocking in and out of you.

He leaned in and kissed your lips again, “I said eyes on me, baby.” He groaned, panting against your lips as he fucked you deeper. “Look at me.”

The air around you got warm again as you met his heated stare, his movements were slightly rougher, but passionate and loving. His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting and intimate. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name under your breath.

“Oh babygirl, you’re all mine.” He whispered against your lips, and leaned in to kiss you deeply while he deliberately stroked his cock against your walls as slowly as he could just to make you whine and whimper even more under him.

When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was intense, but loving. His lips were full and swollen as he looked down at you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen. You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time he moved against you, and his lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him.

He moaned at how tight you felt around his throbbing cock, and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Come for me, babygirl…” He whispered, voice strained and gravelly which sent chills down your body. “Come for daddy,” He growled.

His voice was enough to take you right to the edge. You felt the pressure and the familiar, sweet pain in between your legs, making you gasp for air and your walls clench violently around him. You moaned loudly again, wantonly.

His hands reached down and grabbed your sides gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other. He held you as close to him as he could, pushing his face into you and nuzzling your neck as he fucked you relentlessly.

“Oh baby, you take this cock so well,” He growled into your ear, making your brain all foggy. “Look at you, so fucking beautiful while you take all of me in there, huh?”

With a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone with a cry of pleasure, gushing out all around him, grinding against him eagerly while he moaned against your lips as he came right after you, filling you up.

“Fuck,” He gasped, getting off of you quickly and holding you close to him as you caught your breath, “Are you okay, babygirl?” He asked, kissing your head.

You ended up giggling as you came down from that high. A place so far away that no one ever took you before. “I’m okay,” You said, “I do want some cuddles though.”

Bucky chuckled, “Whatever my princess wants,” Then pulled you into him, spooning you from behind. “Get some sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up tomorrow.”

–

The next morning, neither of you could get your hands off each other. So that meant spending half of the day in bed. And by mid-day when you said that maybe he should take you back to the shore, Bucky refused.

“Just spend another night with me. Please, babygirl.” He begged with those puppy dog eyes. “I’ll take you back to your hotel room tomorrow morning, I promise.”

–

He did take you back. But not to drop you, because he had convinced you to check out, take your things and move them to his boat.

“We’re travelling to the same countries,” He said, “Let's just take the boat and go together.”

You ended up spending two whole weeks with him after that conversation. Going into the third week, you forgot all about real life. All that existed were these perfect days with Bucky; sailing around Europe, watching sunsets and sunrises and stargazing, having amazing sex, and repeat.

–

Reality hit you like a freight train one night when you finally remembered to charge your phone and realised that you had forgotten to update your friends and family about your location and whose company you were in. You scrolled through the endless missed calls, emails, and unanswered texts, and quickly responded to some of them.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, not only because Bucky kept you up until the early hours of the morning, but because you were scared of having to get back to the real world.

Bucky found you out on the main deck that morning. You leaned against the handrail, looking at the sun that would rise in a few minutes, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He stayed a few steps back, just admiring you.

But you knew he was there. You could always tell he was watching. So you looked over your shoulder and gave him a smile, “Good morning, handsome.”

He rushed over and wrapped his arms around you. “I can’t get over how good you look in my clothes.” And when you didn’t respond with something sassy as usual, Bucky knew something was wrong. “What is it, baby? Are you okay?”

You turned to face him instead of the sunrise, and just said it. “I should go back home. I’ve been away for longer than I should’ve been.” You watched how he frowned at you, his eyes still a little sleepy. His hair was tied into a messy, low bun.

You knew you’d never be able to forget this man. Even if you go back home and get sucked back into a cycle you wanted no part of. You couldn’t help but touch his face gently, caressing his cheek.

“But,” He said, a little confused still, “We’re having fun, aren’t we, baby?” He leaned closer, holding you tighter. “You can stay. You should stay, you hate that city.”

You nodded, “I know. But I can’t stay here forever, Buck.” It hurt to even say it.

“Why not?” He argued. “I’ll take care of you. Haven’t I been taking care of you?” He questioned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Please babygirl, don’t leave me.”

You gasped softly as he kissed and nibbled on your skin, his mouth moving all over your neck. “I.. I need to go home at some point.” You said.

Bucky pulled away to look at you. The sky began to get lighter. His eyes still shone like jewels. “And where’s that?” He asked. “Where’s home, baby? Hmm? In that city you don’t like? Surrounded by people you can’t relate to? Stuck in some job you hate?” He returned the words you’d said to him the night you first met.

And for some reason, that made you tear up. The thought of the life before him. “I… I don’t know.” You said, lips quivering as a tear fell down your cheek.

He quickly wiped your tears away, “Baby…” He whispered, “That’s not a home, princess. Home is supposed to feel warm, free, and happy. Are you happy or free in that city?”

You shook your head. “No,” You sniffled. “But I can’t just keep running.”

“Just be with me. Here.” He said. “This isn’t running, this is us having fun.”

“Well, you’ll have to go back to real life at some point too. What then?” You asked.

He gave you a smile, “I’ll take you with me when I do, princess.”

You scoffed, “Bucky, I’m serious.” You said.

“So am I.” He insisted. “Stay with me, babygirl. I’ll take care of you. You know I will.”

You sighed, and wiped away your own tears. “And then what? Make you my sugar daddy?” You joked.

“Like that’s such a horrible thing.” He argued.

You rolled your eyes at him, tried to get out of his arms but he wouldn’t let you. You faced him again, “I can’t do that.”

“This is gonna work.” He insisted again. “Just stay with me.”

“We’ve known each other for mere weeks.” You said, thinking back on how these mere week have been some of the best days of your entire life.

Bucky gave you a wise smile, and said calmly, “I’ve been in relationships that have lasted months, and even years, and yet no one has ever made me feel the way you did these past few weeks.”

You shed another tear, “I’m a mess, Buck. I don’t even have a job.” You chuckled humorlessly, then sniffled.

“I’ll get you a job.” He offered.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Okay then, whatever you want, princess.” He said, holding you close. “But I can't let you go. I won’t.”

“You’re awfully stubborn.” You whispered, hiding your face into the crook of his warm neck.

“Stay with me.”

“Bucky…”

“Baby.”

“What am I gonna tell my parents?” You questioned. “Oh I found a really kind, charming and handsome older guy who took me on a nice ride on his nice boat and I think I’m gonna move in and start living with him?”

Bucky chuckled. “I took you on more than just a ride on my boat.”

You shoved him playfully. Then relaxed into his arms again. “I’m scared, Buck.” You admitted.

“I’m not.” He said firmly. “Baby, we’ll figure it out. Tell me you don’t want this. Look me in the eyes and tell me you wanna leave what we have right now and go back to the city.” He pulled away to look at you. “Tell me that truthfully, and I’ll let you go. Can you do that?”

You sighed, tears filling your eyes again. “No,” You whispered. “I don’t wanna go.” You said, “But I’m scared.”

“Shh,” He hugged you close again. “I’ve got you, babygirl.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around him, breathed in his scent and wanted to cry some more because this man was so dreamy. “What if you stop liking me?”

“Hey.” He chided playfully.

“I’m just saying. What if?”

Bucky pulled away to look down at you again, “Why would you ask me that? Is it really that hard to believe that I love you? Haven’t I shown it to you these past weeks?” He questioned.

Your eyes widened. “Oh. You love me?” You didn’t mean for it to sound like you were teasing him, but it did.

Bucky rolled his eyes. Whispering under his breath, “You’re such a brat.” As he tried to pull away, you tightened your arms around him to stop him.

“No, no, don't go anywhere.” You chuckled at the expression on his face. “Tell me more about how much you love me.”

He gave you a kind smile, leaned down to kiss your forehead and whispered, “How about I show you?”

So you let him show you. And you stayed.

And the life you had together couldn’t have been more perfect.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut

2K notes · View notes

musingmeaninglessly · 1 year

Text

Neteyam w/ a Human Girlfriend

Fem reader insert, not proofread and written on my phone, so excuse any weird formatting issues. Also read; Lo’ak w/ a Human Girlfriend💙

In all honesty, Neteyam couldn’t believe that he’d ever see a human as more than a friendly acquaintance, let alone his mate. But all that was blown out the water when your lil human self tumbled into his life.

He had been wary to pursue you. Not because of you, per se, but he knew that choosing a human would make his future more complicated. But, in a rare display of fatherly kindness, Jake had assured his son that it would all be alright and worth the risk.

So, that leads us to you two as a couple!

I feel like both the Sully brothers would be extremely protective, but Neteyam in a more sensible way. You’d have to beg him to fly his Ikran with him or to accompany him on a hunt. He wasn’t even initially keen on you swimming in the ocean and would insist that you keep your head above the water to protect your mask.

That being said, he loves your enthusiasm and excitement about the things that he does day-to-day. Neteyam’s a busy guy, but you bring a little fun to his daily life with your curiosity and desire to learn the Na’vi way of life.

And the same can be said for him. In fact, he’s rarely happier than when he’s at your side in the lab. You could be amongst the most beautiful nature that Pandora has to offer, but a part of him would rather be all cosied up in your little makeshift bedroom back in the lab. For him it’s an escape from his role within the clan, a place where he can get lost in another world. Your world.

Despite the indifference he felt towards humans before meeting you, he’s fascinated by your culture. It’s not even like there’s one thing he’s particularly enamoured by- he just finds everything so interesting, from cultural norms to your favourite snacks.

He’s also very curious about your physical features (as Lo’ak would be too). And it’s in a completely innocent way. He’d just love to touch your skin and make cute compliments about the softness of your hair and the colours in your eyes. It’s all so new to him and he loves you for your differences.

But what makes it that much more special? The fact that you’re teaching him everything. He loves feeling more connected to you, whether that be brushing up his English skills or listening through your playlists. He could sit for hours hunched up in your non-Na’vi-proof bedroom just listening to you ramble about life on Earth.

All in all, your relationship with Neteyam is one of cosmic chance- a needle in a haystack, if you will. You’ve opened his eyes to a new world, and together you build one upon unending love and kindness.

Bonus: Nicknames for you include but are not limited to; my love, princess, yawntutsyìp, star girl, sweetheart, darling.

#neteyam x human #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x fem human #Neteyam fluff #neteyam headcanons

2K notes · View notes

ppomumgranatum · 2 months

Text

truth or dare.

also available on Ao3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

type: one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader

word count: 6.5k

Rating: M

Warnings: use of profanities, mild sexual content, Intense make out sesh 😳, characters are in their 7th year.

Summary: Truths emerged and friendships were tested as you found yourself confronting two years' worth of suppressed feelings towards Sebastian. Drunk.

It was girls night for you, Imelda, Natty, and Poppy at the Three Broomsticks. The warmth of the crackling fire danced across the cosy interior of the Three Broomsticks as the four of you settled around the table just by it. The mood is relaxed, the air thick with the aroma of butterbeer and laughter. Shirts and ties, usually stiff and proper, now hang loosely as you let yourselves unwind, embracing the comfort of casual company.

Behind the bar, Sirona moved with practised efficiency, her long apron swaying as she poured drinks and served food with a smile. The clinking of glasses and the clatter of plates blend with the lively chatter of the patrons, creating a vibrant symphony of sound that fills the room.

She made her way over to your table not long after Imelda signalled for another round of butterbeer. If anyone was keeping count, it might have been your third glass, and the beverage had everyone feeling increasingly lighter.

The Slytherin quidditch captain suggested that they should play a game of truth or dare, knowing the game would make the night more exciting and perhaps deepen their friendship.

The rules were simple: each of you would take turns spinning a bottle to determine who would be asked the truth or dare. The chosen person would then have to decide between revealing a truth or completing a dare, no matter how daring or embarrassing it might be. If anyone refuses to do so, they must chug their entire glass of butterbeer.

Imelda, always the adventurous one, volunteered to go first. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she spun the bottle and watched eagerly as it came to a stop, pointing straight at Poppy. Without hesitation, she immediately challenged her Hufflepuff friend, “I dare you to dance in the middle of the Tavern.”

Poppy, ever the good sport, rose to the challenge with a laugh, “Natty, I know you’re the Gryffindor, but let me show you bravery.”

With a confident smile, Poppy gracefully made her way to the centre of the bustling tavern. The eyes of the other patrons followed her every move, curious and amused by the unexpected spectacle unfolding before them. She began to dance, her movements fluid and graceful, drawing cheers and applause from the crowd. With each twirl and leap, she seemed to radiate a contagious energy, filling the room with a sense of joy and excitement.

They cheered her friend on from the table, her dare proving to be a testament to Poppy's drunken adventurous spirit and unwavering bravery.

“I can’t believe she’s actually doing it.” you laughed, feeling disbelieved that drunk Poppy is very funny.

“Go Poppy!” Imelda clapped and cheered at her tiny friend who’s twirling in the middle of strangers.

As Poppy completed her final twirl, she accidentally collided with a taller guy, and his arms instinctively encircled her petite waist to steady her, preventing any stumble.

“Oh! Sorry!” As Poppy apologised, she quickly realised the man she had bumped into was none other than Ominis.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Ominis just chuckled good-naturedly, “Nice moves.”

“T-thanks.” She knew that Ominis was simply being courteous because obviously, he couldn’t have seen her doing all those moves.

“Oi! Poppy, no!” Imelda shouted from across the room, prompting the two people to turn their heads to the loud girl calling out for her “It’s girls night. Come back!”

Poppy chuckled, shaking her head at Imelda's exuberant interruption. "Looks like I'm being summoned," she remarked, casting a playful glance at Ominis before walking away from his embrace. Ominis smiled understandingly as Poppy made her way back to our table, her steps light with amusement.

Your gaze followed Ominis as he made his way back to his own table, and you found yourself locking eyes with Sebastian, who obviously came with his best friend. You were having so much fun with your girls you didn’t notice they were here. You didn’t even know that Sebastian was planning to visit the Three Broomsticks as well.

His piercing gaze held yours for a moment, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and you returned his smile. It felt as if your gut was twisted and turned, in the most enchanting way possible because, Merlin, that man is beautiful as hell.

Natty nudged you to get your attention back and smiled kind of teasingly but you didn’t really bother.

The night went on and the game kept on going. The dares became increasingly daring, you found yourselves caught up in the exhilarating energy of the game, revelling in the thrill of pushing each other outside of our comfort zones.

Natty spun the bottle with a flick of her wrist, the anticipation building as it whirled around before coming to a stop and finally it was finally your turn to take up on the challenge.

A playful smirk danced across Natty's lips as she posed the inevitable question, "Truth or dare?"

“Truth.” You said.

Imelda scoffed and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise at your choice, “I thought the girl who fought goblins and dark wizards to save Hogwarts would be more daring.”

Imelda's playful taunt elicited a round of chuckles from the rest of the group, but you remained unfazed, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. You knew that sometimes the most revealing truths could be just as daring as any physical challenge.

“Don’t worry, I have a good question for this one.” Natty assured, "What's the deal with you and Sebastian?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question, but you couldn't help but smile at Natty's boldness. The other girls quickly leaned in eagerly, clearly intrigued by the topic.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling a rush of emotions swirling within you. Sebastian had been a constant presence in your life ever since you started your Hogwarts day, his friendship was a source of comfort and strength through both joyous and challenging times. But there’s all to it– friends.

It was not the first time someone threw that question at you. You understood that the close bond you shared with Sebastian might inadvertently lead others to misconstrue your relationship. It wasn't uncommon for people to mistake deep friendships for something more romantic, especially when the connection was as strong as yours and Sebastian's. While you cherished his companionship more than words could express, what you two have was purely platonic.

At least that’s what you like to convince yourself.

Although you’d be lying if you never wondered what it feels like to run your fingers through his brown hair, or how comfortable it would be to rest your head on his chest, or.. how soft his lips might feel against yours. You couldn't deny the allure of such fantasies, the temptation to explore the unknown and experience the intimacy that might lie beyond the boundaries of friendship. But as quickly as the thought had surfaced, you pushed it aside, unwilling to entertain notions that could potentially complicate your relationship with Sebastian.

So in conclusion, do you like Sebastian? Yes.

Will you admit it, even to yourself? No.

But still, you were determined to cherish the friendship you shared with him for all that it was– a source of comfort, support, and hearty companionship. This wasn’t something you’d be willing to risk losing.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you guys, but there’s nothing going on between us.” you lifted your mug to have a sip of your butterbeer as you replied.

“And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you– you’re clearly lying.”

You chuckled at Natty's persistent teasing, her playful banter a familiar soundtrack to your conversations about Sebastian. Despite your repeated assurances, your friends seemed determined to challenge the authenticity of your claims.

With a good-natured shrug, you replied, "Believe what you want, guys, but I assure you, there's nothing romantic."

“Really?” Imelda chimed in, “You’re saying, all of those late night ‘studies’ you often share, those ‘adventures’– for two years, neither of you ever had any momentary lapse?” She pressed on as she made some air quote gestures with her fingers.

Sure, there were stolen glances, and perhaps touches. Not anything raunchy, but like when Sebastian wordlessly reached out and took your hand in his during your walk home from Hogsmeade on a chilly night to keep you comfortable.

Or other moments when Sebastian would act sweet and protective towards you, but you figure it’s all a natural thing. Like how he would come between you and the oncoming attack, shielding you from harm with his own body during your battles with dark wizards. It was merely a fleeting instance of a friend's deep-seated desire to ensure the safety of their companion, just like how you took the Cruciatus curse for him in the scriptorium.

But then again, nothing ever goes beyond any of that. No confessions nor pursuits of something romantic were ever explicitly made. Those moments always dissolved into other lingering echoes of unspoken words.

“Hey, Natty asked the question and I answered.” you stayed persistent with your statement “There is truly nothing.”

“Don’t you wish there was something, though?” Poppy innocently remarked.

Well, isn’t Poppy Sweeting just fucking delightful when she’s drunk, asking all the right fucking questions.

You hesitated, eyes shifted around your friends who were staring at you, anticipating the answer. You couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. They knew you well enough to sense what you were possibly feeling, but as friends who are supposed to be annoying to each other, they just want to hear it coming out of your mouth. The confession– the admittance of your long profound feeling towards the Slytherin boy whose longest relationship was with detention.

Taking a deep breath, you met their gaze with a forced smile, “No, Poppy. Sebastian and I have always been close, but–” You replied as you were trying to choose your next words carefully. "I know you guys want this to be something so bad but I value our friendship too much to risk anything.”

It was a half-truth, a carefully crafted response designed to conceal the true depth of your feelings. The other three shot you a look of disappointment because yet again another lie came out of your mouth.

"Anyway, why is it always about me and Sebastian?" Your frustration bubbled to the surface as you interjected, unable to bear the spotlight focused solely on your relationship with Sebastian. "What about Poppy and Ominis? Aren't they just as obvious as whatever you think is going on with me?”

With a determined edge to your voice, you redirected the conversation, shining a light on the dynamics between Poppy and Ominis. After all, they too shared a close bond that was evident to anyone paying attention. Poppy's cheeks flushed slightly as the attention turned to her.

“Hey, don’t try to change the subject, alright?” she was refusing to have their own relationship coming under the same scrutiny.

There was a momentary silence as Imelda and Natty exchanged glances, like a sudden moment of realisation dawning upon them that they also don’t know much about what’s going on with Poppy.

“So..” Natty carefully started, “Have you guys kissed yet?”

“Stop it.” Poppy insisted.

Imelda chimed in, her tone light but her question holding a curious edge. "You know what I always ponder about?" she mused, her eyes flicking between her friends. "If he's blind, do you reckon he'd still know where.. everything is?" Her hand swept in a casual arc, encompassing Poppy's figure in a playful gesture.

“Imelda Reyes!” Poppy’s eyes widened in disbelief at her friend's vulgar question. You and Natty could only let out a satisfied laugh at the remark. Imelda shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin playing on her lips as she revelled in the reaction she had elicited. It was moments like these that reminded you all of the genuine bond you shared, forged through laughter, support, and the occasional inappropriate joke.

The banter continued unabated, with Imelda persistently needling the annoyed Poppy, her playful jabs met with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement. Meanwhile, Natty, ever the peacemaker, interjected with lighthearted comments and gentle nudges to steer the conversation away from the edge of tension.

As you watched the amusing interactions among your friends, you realised that your glass was running empty. So you took a final chug at the remaining butterbeer and excused yourself from the lively conversation. You made your way to the bar, eager to replenish your beverage.

At the bar, you signalled Sirona for another round, patiently waiting as she bustled about, attending to the needs of other patrons. Leaning casually against the polished wood, you watched as she deftly mixed drinks and served customers.

In the midst of your wait, a man sidled up beside you. You took a glance at him and realised it was a Ravenclaw student, Andrew Larson. A charming grin played on his lips and you returned his smile. He raised his hand to catch Sirona's attention, signalling his order with a casual wave. With a quick nod and a warm smile, she acknowledged him before returning to her tasks. As Andrew turned back to you, his gaze lingering a moment longer.

“Hi." he greeted, "Haven't had the pleasure of seeing you around here lately.”

You returned his greeting with a warm smile. “Well, it’s our final year, with the N.E.W.T coming up–” She sighed, “You’re a Ravenclaw, you know the rest.” As a resident of the house that embraces learning, she figured he would be able to relate the most.

Andrew's charming grin widened at your response, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Well, I'm glad you’re here now." he said, his voice smooth and easygoing. "This place is always more enjoyable with good company."

Did he just.. flirt with you?

The hottie of Ravenclaw– the tall, broad shoulder, blonde, Andrew Larson was flirting with you? It was flattering, surely, but your heart wasn’t exactly there.

“Can I get you–” As he was about to offer you a drink, Sirona came with your fully filled mug of butterbeer. Andrew halted his sentence, a bit embarrassed, but made quite the quick comeback “something else from the bar? Snack, maybe? Or more drinks?”

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as you noticed Andrew's flustered reaction to the unexpected arrival of your butterbeer. It was clear that he had been planning to offer to buy you a drink, only to be thwarted by Sirona's timely arrival.

"Actually, I think I'm all set for now," you replied with a grateful smile, gesturing to the mug of butterbeer in front of you. "But thank you for the offer."

“Are you sure?” He persisted.

“Yes, Andrew.” You gave him your warmest and sincere smile.

Andrew nodded understandingly, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks as he recovered quickly from the momentary embarrassment. "Well, if you change your mind–”

“I don’t think she will, mate.” Before Andrew could finish his sentence, Sebastian's voice cut through the air, his presence suddenly dominating the scene. He leaned casually against the bar, his arm resting just behind your back. It almost felt like he was about to embrace you, his proximity drawing you in.

With Sebastian's taller frame towering over you, it felt like your face was almost nestled somewhere around the crook of his neck. Amidst the chatter of the tavern and the scent of butterbeer, you couldn't help but catch a whiff of his cologne—a captivating blend of fresh, woody, and spicy notes that seemed to envelop you in its seductive aura.

“Excuse me?” The sweet and soft look on Andrew’s face was replaced by a subtle hint of defensiveness.

“She doesn’t want anything from you, so.. run along, Larson.”

Caught between the two men, you felt a surge of unease wash over you, unsure of how to diffuse the tension that hung thick in the air. Andrew didn’t even bother to argue with Sebastian, he just excused himself and the two of you were left alone.

Your hand instinctively reached out to smack Sebastian's chest, the action fueled by a mixture of frustration and confusion. "What the fuck was that?" you demanded, your voice low but laced with an undercurrent of anger.

Sebastian flinched slightly at the unexpected gesture, his expression shifting from defensiveness to contrition. "I was just trying to protect you from that undoubtedly sleazy guy who's trying to worm his way into your clothes. You're welcome."

"What?" you exclaimed, caught off guard by Sebastian's blunt statement.

"It's Andrew Larson," Sebastian clarified.

Your face twisted into a puzzled expression as Sebastian stated the obvious, and you replied sarcastically, "Oh, pardon me, I thought it was Ominis."

Sebastian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You know how he is."

Sure, whispers were circulating about Andrew, portraying him as a womaniser whose primary goal was to seduce as many girls as he could. But you weren't some naive ingénue who could easily be swayed by sweet words and charm. Despite feeling flattered by Andrew's attention earlier, you were offended by the implication from Sebastian, of all people, that you were incapable of protecting yourself. After all the battles you've faced and triumphed over, you knew you were more than capable of handling any advances or situations that came your way.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in response, a mixture of annoyance and amusement bubbling within you. It was typical of Sebastian to jump to conclusions and assume the worst about others, especially when it came to your interactions with guys.

"Yeah, I know," you replied, your tone tinged with sarcasm. "Because Andrew is clearly the biggest threat to my virtue in this entire tavern."

“Merlin, did your butterbeer contain five percent alcohol and ninety-five percent sarcasm?” Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh as his frustration was evident in the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm just looking out for you, okay?" he muttered, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

You softened slightly at his words, "I’m sorry," you said while offering him a small smile of reassurance. "But, maybe I wanted to be swayed and flirted with by some cute guy tonight.” Those last statements came out a bit soft but Sebastian could still hear it.

Sebastian chuckled softly at your admission, his eyes softening with amusement as he took in your slightly flushed cheeks and the playful glint in your eyes. "Wow, you're really drunk, aren't you?" he teased gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You grinned sheepishly in response, nodding slightly. "A little bit, yeah," you admitted, feeling a surge of warmth spreading through you at his lighthearted response.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you caught Sebastian's intense gaze locked onto yours. There was something magnetic about the way his eyes bore into yours, drawing you in with an almost hypnotic allure.

His appearance only added to the intensity of the moment. His hair was tousled in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome, his shirt untucked and his tie slightly loosened, giving him a casual yet undeniably appealing air. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing the veins in his arms, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of attraction deep in your chest.

Merlin's sake, he looked so hot.

For a moment, you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze, captivated by the raw energy that seemed to radiate from him. It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

"So, you girls having fun?" Sebastian asked with a casual tonel as he attempted to steer the conversation back to lighter topics.

You nodded, grateful for the change in subject. "Uh, yeah, we're just playing truth or dare," you replied, gesturing towards the table where your friends were gathered.

Sebastian's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh, is that why Poppy randomly started dancing then?" he asked, a hint of amusement colouring his voice.

“Yeah, something like that," You chuckled. “Anyway I think I should go back before Imelda starts screaming at me.”

Sebastian nodded in understanding, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, probably a good idea," he agreed. "I'll see you around?"

You returned his smile with a nod, feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over you. "Definitely." you replied with genuine affection.

It sounded like an assurance– like a promise that you will always be around.

As you rejoined the lively group at the table, the warmth of Sebastian's presence lingered in the back of your mind. Immediately, you were greeted by a chorus of playful cheers and teasing remarks from your friends. Imelda, in particular, couldn't resist the opportunity to poke fun at your brief absence, teasing and winking suggestively in Sebastian’s direction.

You knew this would just add more fuel to the fire of assumptions your friends are already burning. Your cheeks flushed at the teasing, but you couldn't help but laugh along with them. Throughout the night, amidst the laughter and banter, you couldn't help but steal glances at Sebastian, who was seated across the room. His presence seemed to draw you in like a magnet, and no matter how hard you tried to focus on the conversation at hand, your gaze would inevitably wander back to him.

It’s getting late, and your group is getting aggressively more drunk. Everyone was so out of place, Imelda, with her usual flair for the dramatic, had climbed onto a nearby chair, belting out a tune that she had seemingly composed on the spot. Her voice echoed through the tavern, a mix of off-key notes and drunken enthusiasm that drew both cheers and laughter from the patrons.

Natty, meanwhile, had succumbed to the effects of the alcohol, her head resting on the table as she dozed off into a peaceful slumber. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your friend, her normally lively demeanour replaced by the serene expression of someone lost in dreams.

And Poppy– oh dear, sweet, Poppy, was sitting on Ominis’ lap with her tongue down his throat. you caught Sebastian's eye, and you couldn't help but give him a sympathetic look. But to your surprise, he simply shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. It seemed that even he couldn't resist feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of his best friend finding some unexpected romance amidst the chaos of the night.

With a chuckle, you shook your head in amusement, realising that despite the drunken antics and the questionable decisions, nights like these were what memories were made of.

Despite your best efforts to keep up, you found yourself feeling increasingly out of sync with the chaotic energy of the group. The alcohol seemed to weigh heavily on your senses, dulling your reactions and leaving you feeling disconnected from the revelry around you.

You noticed Sirona, the bartender, casting concerned glances in your direction. Her furrowed brow and subtle gestures of worry did not go unnoticed amidst the chaos of the tavern.

Finally, she approached your table, her expression a mix of concern and gentle determination. "I hate to interrupt the fun, but perhaps it's time for you all to call it a night." she said softly, her voice carrying a note of genuine care.

With a sigh of resignation, you understood that it was up to you to take charge and ensure your friends made it home safely. Despite Poppy's protests, you gently coaxed her away from Ominis' embrace, linking arms with her as you led the group out of the tavern.

As you walked, Poppy violently let go of your arm and ran to stroll by Ominis’ side, their laughter and whispered conversations filling the night air. Imelda and Natty stumbled along behind them, their steps unsteady but their spirits high as they chatted and laughed amongst themselves.

Bringing up the rear, you found yourself walking alongside Sebastian, the two of you trailing behind the rest of the group. You were stumbling a little bit so you reached out instinctively to steady yourself, grasping onto Sebastian's arm for support. Your fingers wrapped around his muscled and strong biceps, finding purchase in the solidity of his frame.

"Whoa, easy there," he chuckled, his voice warm and amused as he shifted slightly to support your weight. "Looks like someone's had a bit too much to drink."

You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing, the sound echoing through the quiet streets of Hogsmeade. "Guilty as charged." you admitted, leaning into his solid presence as you regained your balance.

You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected closeness, the warmth of his touch sending more heat to your face. You still have your arms tightly secured around him as you navigate the streets of Hogsmeade together. As you and Sebastian walked, your pace noticeably slower than the others, you watched as your friends gradually disappeared ahead of you. Imelda's infectious laughter echoed down the street, followed by the soft murmur of some other conversations.

“Hey, let’s play truth or dare.” you proposed, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you glanced at Sebastian.

Sebastian chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I don't know if I'm ready to share all of my secrets." he teased.

You chuckled at his remark, the alcohol still coursing through your veins lending a sense of boldness to your suggestion. "Come on, it'll be fun."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Alright, you go first. Truth or dare?”

You paused for a moment, considering your options before finally replying, "Dare."

A mischievous grin spread across Sebastian’s face as he formulated a challenge. "I dare you to.. serenade the next person we pass on this street.”

You scoffed at the challenge, deeming it far too easy to pass up. As an older gentleman, dressed impeccably in a top hat and proper suit, approached, you seized the opportunity. Stepping boldly in front of him, you launched into a spontaneous serenade, belting out a random song from the depths of your imagination.

The man's reaction was one of sheer bewilderment, his eyes widening in disbelief as he continued walking, shooting you a perplexed glance over his shoulder. But you were undeterred by his reaction, pouring your heart and soul into the impromptu performance.

Sebastian couldn't contain his laughter, doubling over with amusement as he watched the scene unfold. With a grin, he pulled you away from the bemused gentleman before things got too out of hand and you got reported for harassment. "Alright, you lunatic," he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "That was not too shabby."

You grinned triumphantly as you kept on walking, feeling a rush of exhilaration at having completed the dare. "Hey, I aim to please." you replied, your voice filled with satisfaction.

As the two of you continued down the street, still chuckling at the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay, your turn." you said to Sebastian.

"Truth." Sebastian replied, his expression curious yet composed.

You hummed thoughtfully, considering your question carefully before finally deciding on one that would test the waters. "Do you think I'm pretty?" you asked, your voice tinged with playfulness.

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected question. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Of course," he replied sincerely, his voice soft yet earnest. "I think you’re beautiful."

You hummed in amusement and couldn't suppress a giggle. "I think you're beautiful, too, Sebastian Sallow." you admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at the confession. As you rested your head on his arm, a comfortable silence settled between you.

He chuckled at the sight of your sly face leaning on his arm and eyes could barely manage to stay open “You’re so drunk.”

“I told you I wanted to be swayed by a cute guy tonight.” you mumbled, your words slurred slightly from the effects of the alcohol.

"I think you've had enough swaying for one night," he teased, his voice warm and affectionate.

You let out a soft giggle in response, the alcohol making everything feel hazy and surreal. "Maybe," you conceded with a playful grin. "But it's your turn. Quick.”

“Fine. Dare me.”

“Alright,” you replied. This time, you took your time considering what dare to give him. You want to make sure that you’re optimising this opportunity. You didn’t know what had gotten into your head aside from the obvious alcohol, but spurred on by a sudden surge of courage, you somehow managed to say, “I dare you to kiss me.”

Sebastian laughed at your request, and thought you were kidding, but it quickly died down and stopped at his feet when he saw your face looking serious “Wait, you’re serious?”

You held his gaze steadily, “Yes.” Despite the sudden rush of nerves coursing through your veins, you stood your ground, determined to see this dare through. “Kiss me.”

His expression shifted from amusement to something more contemplative, like his eyes were searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But your gaze was unwavering as if urging him to finally close the distance you’ve been dreaming to perish.

Sebastian took a step closer and lifted your chin with his finger to get a better view of your lips. As he leaned in closer, you closed your eyes in anticipation of your first kiss with Sebastian, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. When his lips finally met yours, there was a surge of energy coursing through your entire body, sending shivers down your spine.

It was a soft and tender kiss, nothing deep, but it filled with emotion that had been kept away for two years. It was truly a moment that took your breath away. Surrounded by the quiet beauty of the night, you felt a connection between you and Sebastian that transcended words. It was as if the universe had aligned just for this moment, bringing the two of you together in perfect harmony.

He pulled away, and your gazes locked. You could tell his breathing was shallow from the nerves. The look on his eyes was something you’ve never seen before like a mixture of desire, longing, and a hint of vulnerability. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to devour you– to be lost in you with passion.

In that moment, you felt a surge of boldness coursing through you, fueled by the electric connection between you and Sebastian. Without hesitation, you reached out, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips crashing together in a fierce and hungry kiss. It was like a wildfire consuming you both, igniting a passion that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Sebastian wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer until your bodies were pressed tightly together. A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt the heat of his touch. It was as if every nerve in your body was alight with lust, and you couldn't help but respond to the intensity of the moment.

As if spurred on by the sound of your moan, Sebastian deepened the kiss, his lips moving with a hunger that matched your own. You felt his crave coursing through him, a raw and primal energy that left you breathless and wanting more.

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, inviting him to explore the depths of your mouth with his tongue. Sebastian tilted his head so he could gain better access. It was a dance of passion that's been kept away for two years and each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

It was truly magical, and sensual even. You didn’t care about the fact that the two of you were standing in the middle of the road or if someone passed by and stared, because in that moment, it truly felt like you finally owned each other. It made you think of all the sinful things you wanted him to do to you and It was as if a silent understanding passed between you, a shared desire that fueled the intensity of the kiss. Without a word, Sebastian guided you backwards until your back met the sturdy trunk of a tree by the roadside.

As his lips trailed along your jaw, ear, and down to your neck, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the sensation of his touch. Every brush of his lips against your skin sent heat to your loin. When his hand found its way to your breast, cupping and squeezing it with a firm yet gentle touch, you couldn't contain the moan that escaped your lips. Your body truly felt as if it was on fire, craving his touch with an intensity that left you breathless.

Instinctively, you lifted your leg to his side, drawing him closer and inviting him to explore further. The consuming lusts between you was fucking evident.

As Sebastian's hand explored your chest, eliciting waves of pleasure with each touch, you couldn't help but release another soft moan of pleasure “Oh.. Sebastian..”

At the call of his name, it was as if a sudden wake-up call had jolted Sebastian out of the passionate haze. He pulled away abruptly, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes filled with a mix of realisation and apprehension. In that moment, it was as if the weight of what had just transpired between you both crashed down on him like a ton of bricks.

All you could think about was the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the realisation dawning on you that your friendship with Sebastian was officially ruined. The two of you were breathless and exhilarated. Your lips swollen and tingling with the remnants of his touch.

He took a couple of steps back away from you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you screamed in your head. He remained silent, his eyes locked on yours, leaving you to wonder what the fuck was going on? Was he regretting it? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you as you tried to decipher the expression on his face. It was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping in.

“Sebastian..” you whispered.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said as he looked away, “I didn’t mean to..”

“It’s okay..” You replied.

Your words echoed in the silence that followed, and you felt a pang of disappointment wash over you. It was as if reality had come crashing down, shattering the illusion of the moment you had shared together. But then, unable to resist the urge to seek reassurance, you blurted out the question that had been lingering in your mind. "Do you like me?"

Sebastian's expression softened as he looked back at you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that sent a flutter through your chest. “Of course, I do.” He replied rather softly.

“Like a friend?”

A lump formed in Sebastian’s throat, making it hard for him to swallow as nervousness crept over him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation they were about to have. “Well, friends don’t do the things that we just did, do they?”

“Not really.” You replied. The weight of his words sobering you up almost instantly. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the stark reality of the situation between you.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions, each of you grappling with the implications of what had just transpired. You took a deep breath and with a shaky hand, you reached up to straighten your messy shirt and ran your fingers through your dishevelled hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Do you want it to be more than just a friend?" he finally managed to say.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability reflected in them, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “Do you want it to be?”

“I asked you first.” He quickly and assertively interjected, “Do you want it to be something more?”

"Yes," you replied softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart. "Yes, I do."

"Then, how come you never said anything?" he asked, his tone tinged with a mixture of frustration and longing.

“How come you never said anything?”

He felt a pang of guilt at his words, realising that he had been holding back his true feelings for far too long. "How was I supposed to know?" he shot back, your voice tinged with defensiveness.

"Oh, because we've only been hanging out together every day for two years, we shared countless life and death moments, was that not enough?" you added sarcastically, the weight of your unspoken emotions finally surfacing. “Am I.. not enough?”

Sebastian's expression softened at your words, a look of understanding crossing his features. He took a step closer. "You are more than enough," he said softly and his voice was filled with sincerity. "You are everything to me."

“Everyone wonders why we aren’t together,” you echoed softly. “Well, little did they know I also wondered the same thing.” You looked up at Sebastian, meeting his gaze with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. And as you stood there, lost in each other's eyes, you could find everything you’ve ever wanted.

He took another step forward, “I want you.” and another, until he could reach out to caress your cheek, “I’ve always wanted you ever since you kicked my ass in Hecat’s class.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his response, a mixture of relief and joy bubbling up inside you. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and suddenly, everything felt right in the world. His fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. In that moment, all the doubts and fears that had plagued you seemed to fade away.

“I want to love you.. to feel you..” He continued, “Way more than what we just did.” He smiled, but you could tell he was a little bit nervous.

"Well, you made me wait two years," you teased gently, a playful glint in your eye. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

Sebastian's smile widened at your response, a sense of relief washing over him as he realised that you felt the same way. In that moment, you knew that you were both ready to take the next step in your relationship, to explore the depths of your love together with open hearts and open minds.

And as you leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the journey that lay ahead. With Sebastianfinally by your side, you know everything is going to be great.

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom

374 notes · View notes

jellybeanium124 · 7 months

Text

so imagine this guy you sort of know, you live in the same town and all, and he's like a wealthy landowner so he's kind of a big deal, just fuckin disappears one day. he was a bit weird and no one liked him so life just kind of continues on. his wife takes over all his assets, declares him dead. rumor has it he ran off to be like a mob boss or something. then like 4 months later, he returns, and all he's fucking talking about is his life of crime. hell, you happen to meet him in the bar and he tells you about all the crimes he's committed and the famous criminals he's met. and you don't call the police. in fact no one does! he's home for like, week and a half, two weeks. he escaped from prison, by the way, forgot to mention that earlier. and no one from the prison or government comes to get him. then he dies, like for real, in front of you. a fucking piano falls on him. ah well. life moves on. his wife's been real cosy with a local painter so she's not even that upset. anyways, that'd be weird, right?

#ofmd #our flag means death #I'll never get over how no one reported stede for being a criminal. no one cared about that. sahdbfajlng

894 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 2 months

Text

Male kelpie (dad-bod, single father, biker) x plus size f. reader - Part One (sfw)

Background info post on the Full Moon Motorcycles group here Oats Appreciation post here

Featuring a plus-size, bisexual, not very confident reader, and a divorced, Scottish, single-dad, biker kelpie with a soft-dad bod and a heart as big as his bike’s engine (possibly bigger).

CW: there is a very brief moment where a character (not Oats!) insults the reader for her size and uses some fat-phobic language towards and about her, unaware that she can hear him. If you’re sensitive to that, it is brief, but you can skip from “…you caught the conversation drifting over from the other guys who’d arrived just ahead of you.” to the paragraph beginning, “After some deep breaths and a check in the mirror…”. Also, if you squint, there’s a passing moment that could possibly be interpreted as the reader having some potential issues with food, but it’s not intended to be a big deal and it’s only for about two sentences. Still putting it in here too, just in case.

Wordcount: 7562

You pushed open the glass door of Full Moon Motorcycles and willed yourself not to feel self-conscious or out of place.

Having both an older brother and a mother who rode motorbikes had at least given you a fair bit of familiarity with bikes and the general ‘biker culture’, but it was mostly the fact that almost all the ‘biker girls’ you saw posing on social media were slim and toned, which you were decidedly not.

From the utterly foetid takes in the comments section of the one post your brother had shared on his page with you in it, you’d also got the impression that the biker community was not particularly kind to any woman with a waist over 25 inches. It probably wasn’t the case, but your one experience with it had been enough to make you very wary.

And yet, as you made your way towards the bike shop’s counter and the older man with floppy, greying hair and warm brown eyes looked up, you were greeted with an open, welcoming smile.

“Hi there,” he said, standing up with a grunt from the comfy chair where he’d been sitting in the corner near the shop’s antique cash register. “What can I do for you?”

You smiled shyly and glanced along the wooden countertop before returning your gaze to him. “I’m looking for a present for my brother, but I’m kind of on a budget…”

“Gotcha. We’ve got some silly key fobs there,” he said, indicating a rotating display rack at one end of the counter, with mottoes that ranged from funny to explicit, “But if they like working on their bike themselves, you can’t go wrong with some maintenance supplies… Not the most glamorous but I promise they’ll be grateful to you all the same.”

“Could always tie a festive ribbon round it,” you said, and he chuckled and nodded.

“That’s the spirit.”

You eyed the reasonable price of the fobs with some relief, and then followed his gesture towards the various bottles of chain degreaser and the like, and a few other useful tools and kits that were stacked on shelves on the back wall to the right of a door that presumably led into the back and store rooms.

The right hand side of the shop had the counter and some shiny, new bikes that had been parked in a row around the perimeter of the space, and the left hand side was more open with a bench or two against the brick walls, and some red, mechanics’ tool-chests tucked against the back wall. A number of leather two- and one-piece suits hung in racks at the furthest end though, with helmets on shelves and a few rows of t-shirts, jeans, gloves, and boots displayed too. There were oil stains in the centre of the polished concrete floor, and you suspected that tinkering took place there outside of the shop’s usual opening hours.

The whole vibe of Full Moon Motorcycles was friendly and cosy, with a slightly industrial, grungy note for some flavour.

In short, you loved it.

“There are also some fun helmet covers –” the older man chuckled, and added, “A number of the regulars here have them, and there are also some earplugs, or perhaps a tough phone case and mount? A chain care kit? There are some vinyl stickers too, and t-shirts, socks, neck warmers, balaclavas, mugs, helmet care kits, thermals…”

Laughing, you held up your hands for him to stop, and he started to chuckle too.

“I’ll let you browse in peace, sweetheart,” he said, his whisky brown eyes twinkling. Even his un-looked-for endearment came across as kindly instead of creepy, and not many men could pull that off. “You just holler if you have questions and I’ll be happy to –”

The door opened behind you and he broke off as his attention was snagged by the arrival of a heavy-set guy in dark jeans and a softly-worn, black leather jacket. He held a black helmet with a tinted visor in his large hands, and he looked more than a little wind-blown and rumpled.

Incongruous with his rather roguish-dishevelment, a lock of his long, thick, slightly grizzled, black hair was held back by a little hair-clip with a Barbie-pink, fabric bow. It didn’t fit with the dark scruff of stubble on his jaw or the piercing green-blue eyes at all, but he seemed completely unfazed by its presence.

“Oats!” the older man exclaimed with obvious joy, clapping his hands. “It’s been a while, my boy! How was the trip to Scotland? You make it round the NC500 this time?”

The ‘boy’ looked to be in his mid to late thirties…

“Ach, no’ a chance this time, Hank,” the man chuckled with a heavy, Scottish accent lacing his rich, rough baritone. Exactly where in Scotland he was from, you couldn’t tell, but it was lyrical and attractive all the same.

“Ah, next time, next time. And is Natalie well?

“Oh aye, my wee Loch Ness Monster is doing just fine. She’ll be terrorising her mother for the Christmas holidays. I came straight from the road though — clutch started playing up just south of Birmingham.” He grimaced, but even that looked charming somehow. “Sort of hoped you might find a minute to take a look at it for me if I left the Old Girl here. No rush though.”

“No problem, Oats. We’ll get her running properly again in no time. Bet you’re missing little Natalie already,” Hank added sympathetically.

“Ah, you have no idea,” the man, peculiarly-named ‘Oats’, sighed ruefully, shaking his head.

“See she left you with a parting gift though,” Hank snorted, pointing at the bow hair clip.

With a slight frown to his dark eyebrows, Oats reached up and patted at his head until he found it, and then he laughed. It was a loud, delighted, full-bellied sound that reverberated through the space while it lasted, and he left the hair clip where it was with no trace of self-consciousness as he lowered his hand again. “Aye, that she did. Surprised it survived the journey down with my lid on and everything. Oh –” His unusually pale green eyes landed on you, watching him and lurking near the rows of t-shirts on the back wall, and he went still.

Those sea-grey eyes raked you up and down, clearly noting the way your black leggings clung to the curves of your thighs and hips, and the black hoodie, which maybe went some way to hiding the softness of your stomach a bit, and he swallowed visibly. He looked… hungry. That was not the usual reaction you had grown accustomed to from men, and you let the flare of heat lick up your insides for just a moment, daring to hope that maybe he did find you attractive.

“Sorry,” he said in your direction, with a soft, dusky smile. “Didnae mean t’interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” you managed to croak back at him before returning your attention, however reluctantly, to present options for your brother while the older man, Hank, hobbled out around the corner of the wooden counter to chat amicably with the man. You couldn’t hear what was said as the two chatted in lower voices, but it was evident that they were good friends. While they talked, however, you couldn’t help noticing that he stole occasional sidelong glances in your direction, and you felt your face warm pleasantly.

‘Oats’ was certainly an unusual nickname, but then again, almost everyone who rode with your brother also had their own nicknames for one reason or another. As you browsed, you wondered what Oats had done to earn that one. He certainly looked like a snack to you, but you vowed not to let your attraction to the stranger show. Awkward situations (or worse, silences) tended to arise when you let that happen.

He had a tanned, outdoorsy complexion, and longish, black hair that was tied back in a low ponytail that brushed below the collar of his black leather jacket. It looked like it had a tendency to flop into his face when not restrained by that out-of-place pink bow. He filled out the jacket very well, and clearly had a soft paunch, and his thighs looked frankly delectable in those thick, indigo jeans. You prayed you wouldn’t have to see him fully from the back if he turned around, to witness the way he filled out the seat of his jeans too.

Fuck. Concentrate.

Bike gifts for brother, not delicious-looking stranger you’re never going to see again.

“Well, I shouldnae hang about, I suppose.”

Oats’ voice cut through your musings in front of chain degreasers and you jumped a little. Glancing back over at him, you offered him a smile when he too turned to look at you one last time, and a slow, charming smile crept onto his handsome face.

“See you,” he said with a dip of his head. Before he strode from the shop though, he let his eyes roam once more down the length of you and he bit his lower lip, almost regretfully, then turned away abruptly.

Oh yes. He absolutely did fill out the ass of those jeans beautifully.

Quite honestly, you weren’t totally sure what you ended up getting your brother for his birthday. You took whatever it was to the counter in a daze, your mind replaying over and over the way he’d looked at you.

“Must say,” Hank said conspiratorially as he fished your change from the antique cash register and slid it across the polished, wooden counter towards you. “I’ve never seen Oats quite so taken with someone, miss.” He chuckled, his kind, whisky-brown eyes glinting. “You take care now.”

Swallowing, you nodded and left the shop, hoping perhaps to find Oats waiting for you outside on the street, leaning against his motorcycle, but life was not a movie, and wherever he was, he was not lingering in the hopes of seeing you. In fact, the street was completely deserted, so you crossed, clambered into your little hatchback, and drove home with the feeling that you’d let a pivotal moment in your life pass you by.

Your sour mood persisted like a raincloud for the whole week, but by the time you were driving over to your brother’s on Saturday for his birthday ride, you were trying to pull yourself out of it. You had your own helmet with you, secured in the back of the car, and beside it was (now wrapped) the present you’d got him. In fact, it was a chain care kit, and, although you hadn’t noticed at the time, Hank had thrown in a free keychain that said ‘In my defence, I was left unsupervised’ which was very on-brand for your brother. You had planned to go back and thank him for the freebie as soon as you could, but your brother’s birthday ride had been planned for that Saturday, and work had been hell that week, so you’d not had the chance.

Predictably, Alex wasn’t in the house when you rang the doorbell, so you followed the sound of metallic clinking and laughter, and went round the side to find him tinkering with his mad little Honda Grom in the garage, while his two best mates — Eggs and Sparky — were lounging around and either making unhelpful suggestions or lewd comments.

“Yo!” Sparky grinned when he saw you, sitting up straighter and almost falling off the mechanic’s tool chest he was leaning his weight against. At Sparky’s exclamation, your brother sat up and banged his head on the handlebars of the short little Grom with a curse.

“Hey,” you mumbled in Sparky’s general direction. “Happy birthday, Alex.”

Alex scrambled upright and came over to hug you, probably smearing grease and dirt all over your armoured jacket, but since it was black anyway, you didn’t mind too much. Alex was about as opposite to you as it was possible to get — straight up and down like a beanpole, and tall. You took after your mother, inheriting all her thick curves and soft edges. Soft heart too.

“Thought this might come in handy,” you mumbled when Alex released you and you held out the brown paper bag stamped with the logo of Full Moon Motorcycles.

His eyes lit up when he saw the logo, and he tore into it like a chipmunk after a peanut, grinning in delight when he’d dismembered it, and in particular he showed off the keychain to his mates. Eggs snatched it and tried to claim it for himself, but Alex was having none of it, and the three of them scrapped and goofed around while you sat down on an old, metal stool in the corner and waited for the other two of your small party to show up, with a cool, curdling kind of dread in the pit of your stomach when you heard one name in particular. Nooner.

Within an hour though, you were all out on the road.

You took the pillion seat behind Alex, and warded his mates off at red lights when they came for his killswitch to immobilise him. A while later though, Alex zoomed off down the open road that would take you all out of town and towards the somewhat famous biker cafe, ‘Elusive Neutral’, that sat nestled amongst the fragrant heather of the rolling hills surrounding the old market town.

The sky was a gorgeous, autumnal blue and the weather was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold, and as your brother’s Yamaha flew along the winding A-road that was every biker’s dream, you cracked a smile and gently tipped your head back. As much as it had scared you when you’d first ridden behind your mother all those years ago, you did love the feeling of being out on a bike. Not that you were actually brave enough to want to try and learn yourself though. Something always held you back, made you wary and unsure, and then you inevitably felt down about that too. God, you wished you had Alex’s wild confidence.

Nothing good ever seemed to last for you though, and when Alex’s R1 had purred into the car park behind Eggs and Sparky, and you’d hopped off to let him reverse more easily into a space, you caught the conversation drifting over from the other guys who’d arrived just ahead of you.

“…if he didn’t have his fat sister with him, we could have fucking ripped it up along those twisties.” That, of course, had come from Nooner, named for the fact that he rarely stuck to two wheels and always pulled wheelies, or ‘nones’, whenever he got the chance. Out of all of your brother’s friends, he was the one you liked the least, for… obvious reasons.

“Talk about killing the vibes, huh?” Eggs replied, trying to suck up to him, as ever. “More like ‘crushing’!”

The reason Eggs had earned his nickname was that he’d lost a bet and shaved his head when they’d all been about sixteen, and he’d looked like a boiled egg til it grew back. You wished you had the sass to remind him of that every time his spine seemed to crumble in favour of earning a half-hearted snicker out of Nooner.

When Alex joined you, he caught the crestfallen expression on your face and frowned, but you shook your head and walked away from them, heading for the cafe alone.

“Can’t wait to shove some cake in her fat gob already,” Nooner added as an aside to Eggs, and your vision blurred as tears welled along your lashes. Why did people have to be so cruel? To trample all over someone else just to feel a little taller themselves?

You vaguely heard what sounded like Sparky’s voice countering the comment, but you didn't stick around either way. If you mentioned it to your brother again, he’d just say it was banter with the guys and not to take it to heart. Easy for someone who's never been on the end of that kind of comment to shrug it off, after all.

You ducked straight for the toilets when you got inside the airy, modern cafe, not even bothering to look around or find a table first.

After some deep breaths and a check in the mirror to see that you hadn’t turned your eyeliner into a panda cosplay, you headed out again and made for the little bar that doubled as a counter for people who were there solo to sit and eat instead of taking up a whole table to themselves. None of your brother’s friends joined you, and when you glanced back over your shoulder, you saw that they’d settled themselves around a table in the far corner and already had a number for a server to bring their food order over. They hadn’t even waited for you.

“Fuck them,” you hissed through gritted teeth, taking a seat at the bar instead. The stools were made of old tractor seats, and they were surprisingly comfortable, and as you leaned your forearms on the countertop, the young woman behind the counter came over to you with a smile that made you feel a little better.

“Hey,” she said. “What can I get for you?”

You ordered a hot drink, and then took out your phone while you waited for her to make it for you.

For half an hour or so, you sat scrolling through social media and sipping your drink and telling yourself this was your brother’s day and not yours. He did come over a couple of times, but you declined to sit with his friends, and because he’d never had any real reason to doubt you before, he took you at your word when you told him you were happy enough where you were. “I don’t want to get in the way,” you said, and he believed you.

Patting you on the shoulder, he left you for the third time, and you looked down into the dregs of your drink with a heavy sigh. “This sucks.”

Outside, the sound of more bikes arriving made your ears perk up, and you wondered idly what they rode. Elusive Neutral had once been an old cattle barn, but it had been completely redone and the walls on two sides had been replaced with vast picture windows that showed the sweeping expanse of moorland beyond, and a small sliver of the car park at one end. Craning your neck, you saw a group of maybe five or six bikers draw up, some on hipster looking cafe racers and others on racy sports bikes. There was even a Ducati Panigale among them, and behind them followed an old, battered, blue pickup truck.

The door opened a little while later, and you glanced over, eyes drawn instinctively by the movement.

Above the general chatter and merry chinking of china in the room, the energy of the new group of bikers rose like a cloud of dizzy mayflies; buzzing and excited and full of joy. You watched them all with interest from your perch at the counter.

The first through the door was an absolute Amazon of a woman, with her long black hair restrained in a thick braid, and shoulders the width of a barn door. She was lean and tall, and in her biker gear she looked… incredible. Her face was strikingly handsome, but until she glanced down at the woman walking beside her, her features were hard and glowering and unspeakably stern. She held the door open for one of the others to follow her inside, but when she locked eyes again with the brunette by her side, her whole expression melted into unguarded adoration. Your gut twisted briefly with jealousy.

It wouldn’t matter to you who looked at you like that, if only someone would.

You looked away, and by the time you glanced back at the bikers, the whole group had filed in from outside. There was a guy with golden-brown skin and beautiful dark brown eyes who had his arm wrapped possessively around the waist of a pale, skinny guy in black jeans and a moth-eaten, black jumper, with his long hair tied back in a bun, and behind them came a strikingly attractive guy in a manual wheelchair, flanked by a very short biker with slightly anaemic looking skin. You wondered fleetingly if the guy in the wheelchair had ridden a motorbike there, and if so how, before you realised he was probably the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, with long, flowing red hair and dark green eyes, and the kind of mouth that was made for laughing, and for kissing.

Jesus, was it an unwritten rule of being a biker that you had to be unfairly attractive? Even Hank, who you recognised with a start of surprise coming in behind the guy with red hair, wasn’t unattractive, in a bulky, older man kind of way.

The guy walking with him though… he truly made your stomach swoop.

It was Oats.

You looked away before he could spot you, sitting alone at the bar like some pathetic creature waiting for cocktail hour to begin. It was lunchtime on a sunny, autumnal Saturday though, and there you were sitting alone because you didn’t fancy sitting with your brother’s loser mates.

God, the way Oats had looked in his tough-looking leather jacket, with his eyes crinkled mid-laugh at something the guy in the wheelchair had shot back at them over his shoulder… You bit your lip and stared into the bottom of your cold, empty mug like it would divine some kind of solution to your situation for you.

The new group didn’t seem to notice you while they filed up to the counter, jostling and joking, and when they drifted off to another corner of the cafe, you turned back to your phone, trying desperately to resist the almost overwhelming urge to keep turning over your shoulder to watch them.

Before too long however, you startled at a soft tap on your shoulder, and you looked around to find Oats himself stepping back to a polite distance and smiling down at you like he’d found a treasure in an unexpected place.

“Hey there,” he said in that rolling, Scottish accent that did unspeakably indecent things to your insides. “Sorry if I’m intruding, but you were at Full Moon last week, right?”

Mute for a moment, you nodded, and mustered up a slightly dazed smile for him.

“You… here alone?” he asked, eyeing the currently-empty seats to your left and right. In fact, someone had only just gathered up their belongings and left.

“Kind of?” you croaked, letting your eyes slide over to the table where your brother and his friends were hunched over one of their phones, snickering at something. “It’s… It’s my brother’s birthday today. I… tagged along as pillion, but… you know… I’m kind of a spare part really.”

At that, Oats’ dark eyebrows knitted into a scowl and he looked across the room at them before returning his attention to you. Then, his unearthly, almost prismatic, silver-green eyes took in your empty cup and he grinned. “Can I get y’a top up?”

Your instinct was to refuse, but you bit your lip. This didn’t feel real. A cute, handsome, courteous guy was actually taking an interest in you.

“Sure. Thank you.” And the smile that spread itself across your face telegraphed your delight in a way that was impossible to disguise with any kind of suave grace.

Oats, however, seemed equally delighted, and nodded. The barista came back over and he leaned his weight on the counter to talk to her. He seemed to have that enviably easy manner with everybody, and he even charmed a free slice of cake out of her too with what felt like no effort at all.

“Chocolate? Or something else?” he asked you.

“Pardon?”

“Cake.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” you said, but he frowned.

“You sure? I’m gonna have a bit of their chocolate cake. It’s so good, it’s practically a sin.”

“I…” you faltered.

He didn’t pressure you though and shrugged easily, turning back to the barista. “Gimme two forks with that, love. Just in case.”

“No problem,” she beamed back while she bustled about, and Oats eyed the empty bar stool next to yours.

“May I?”

You swallowed your nerves and nodded. “Please.” And then, because apparently a demon of confidence had temporarily possessed you, you eyed his slightly helmet-flattened forelock and said, “No pink hair clips today?”

He guffawed loudly enough that your brother actually glanced over and frowned when he saw you talking with a stranger.

Oats snorted and shook his head. “No, not today. My daughter is still up in Scotland with her mother.” He fixed you with a more serious look and said, “She and I divorced, before you get the wrong idea about me flirting like this with a beautiful woman.”

The compliment caught you so off-guard that you just froze for a moment, but when the heat of a blush filled your face, you looked away and he chuckled.

“I’m not normally so forward, but I’ve been kicking myself for not talking to you when I first saw you in Full Moon. Hank was telling me just this morning what a muppet I’d made of myself for walking away like that.”

You looked behind you at the group of his friends and then turned back to him. “Won’t they think you’re being rude, ignoring them like this?”

He shook his head and smiled. “They’re probably all taking bets on how quickly you’ll shoot me down.”

“What? I’d have to be an idiot to do that.”

At that, his face split into a huge, handsome grin and he shook his head just a little. “Lucky me,” he said. “You ride?” he added, eyeing your jacket that was obviously a motorcycle jacket.

You shrugged. “Pillion. I’ve never ridden myself, but my brother lets me come out with him sometimes.”

Oats nodded, and then, as the barista set down his coffee, your top-up, and the plate of decadent chocolate cake with two forks, he said, “I’m Euan, by the way, but everyone calls me Oats.”

You introduced yourself, and then said, “Oats?”

He snorted and nodded. “Not the worst nickname, for sure.”

“Can I ask where it came from?”

Oats nodded and shunted the plate towards you first before leaning his elbow on the bar and watching you while he spoke. “I think it’s because I’m a dad, but I’m always prepared for most situations, and when it comes to my Natalie, she’s always hungry. I’ve usually got about a thousand granola bars stashed away about my person —” he said, cutting himself off to pat conspicuously at his jacket pockets. Pulling a slightly dog-eared crunchy bar from his breast pocket, he wielded it like a magic wand at you and said, “Case in point.”

“Hence, Oats,” you said, eyeing the healthy brand name on the packet.

“Exactly. Like I said, it could be worse. See the tall lass over there with the dangerous scowl?”

You didn't need to turn around to know which of his friends he was talking about, but you did anyway. “Yeah.”

“We call her Pixie.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” he chuckled, stowing the granola bar back into his pocket and taking a huge scoop of the chocolate cake with his own fork.

“What do you ride then?” you asked.

“Triumph Bonneville T120,” he said with almost exactly the same intonation and fondness as he’d just said ‘because I’m a dad’, and you couldn’t help smiling. “Can’t be doing with all these glitzy sports bikes and the like,” he added with a laugh, setting his fork down and blinking slowly. His lashes, you noticed, were thick and dark and enticingly long.

Laughing, you smiled. “Don’t say that too loudly — my brother rides an R1.”

“Nice,” Oats grinned back. “But nothing could entice me away from my girl.”

“I’m surprised you’re here, flirting with me then,” you said. Evidently that confidence demon was still lurking.

Again, Oats laughed, though it was more of a low whicker this time, and it rolled right through you and lit you up all over. God, how long had it been since someone had laughed like that for you?

“There are… exceptions,” he said in a rumbling murmur. “Tell me about yourself?” he asked, and you did.

You spent the next hour at least talking in an easy back and forth with him while he charmed a few more refills from the barista and a lot of answers out of you, before one of his friends sidled up shyly and waited for a lull in your conversation.

“Sorry to butt in,” the small, unbelievably beautiful woman said. She was the one who’d been on the receiving end of the adoring look from the Amazon, ‘Pixie’. She had chocolate-brown hair falling in thick ringlets around a gorgeous face, and, you were pleased to note, she had wide hips and a softness to her that a lot of the biker chicks you’d seen online didn’t have.

“Coco,” Oats beamed. “Meet my new friend.” He introduced you by name, and Coco smiled at you, holding out her hand.

When your palms connected, you felt a warmth rush through you and you felt like your heart skipped a beat. The feeling like you could tip forwards and drown in her endless, dark brown eyes almost unseated you, but she let go of you and stepped back with a pretty smile on her Cupid’s-bow lips. “Pleasure to meet you. Just wanted to tell Oats that we’re thinking of heading off soon. Ariel has a photoshoot he wants to get to in an hour or so, and Demon’s keen to get going as well.”

Oats nodded, and you tried not to let your stomach drop down to your boots at the thought of all this coming to such an abrupt end.

Coco turned her head sharply to look at you just as the feeling hit, and she smiled faintly. “You could always stay here though, Oats,” she added with a pretty smile. “We’re only going back to Full Moon, and Demon clearly has no intention of lingering there…” She shot a meaningful glance back at their table. Demon, the guy with dark hair and tanned skin, was seated with the guy he’d entered with now draped in his lap, his skinny legs dangling as he sprawled languidly back against the guy’s muscular chest. Demon whispered something into his ear before he clearly bit the shell of his boyfriend’s ear, which made him sit abruptly upright and flush a vibrant pink.

Oats laughed again and shook his head. “Fuck me,” he chuckled privately. “Never thought I’d see the day. You guys go on. I’m… I’m very much content here.”

“I can see that,” Coco smirked, and walked away.

When she was out of earshot, you turned to Oats with a hot flush of your own in your face and said, “Don’t stay if you don’t want to… I’m sure my brother will be leaving soon anyway…”

Just as you said that, and before Oats could reply, Alex reappeared at your side and jutted his chin in Oats’ direction. “You good?” he chirped at you.

“Fine,” you replied. “This is Oats. I met him at Full Moon Motorcycles when I was buying your birthday present.”

“Oh,” Alex replied, holding out his hand for Oats to shake. “Good to meet you, man. You tell her what to get for me? If you did, it was a good choice.”

“No,” Oats said carefully, his grey-green eyes sliding back to your face even while he shook your brother’s hand amicably. “No, whatever she got you, it was all her.”

“Oh, cool,” Alex said. “Listen, sis, we’re gonna hit the road in a while. Nooner and Eggs want to hit the twisties for a bit, but I can’t really do that with a backpack, so Sparky said he’d give you a ride home, if that’s ok.”

You swallowed. “Um…”

“I can give her a lift,” Oats replied after a swift glance in your direction. “She’s already got her own lid, and there’s room on the Bobber’s double seat for both of us.”

“I don’t know, man,” Alex said with a wary frown.

“Your choice,” Oats shrugged easily, looking at you and holding his hands up just a little.

For a fleeting moment, you weren’t sure, but the idea of wrapping your arms around Oats’ thick middle and sitting astride his gorgeous bike kind of decided it for you. Besides, it was a long time since you’d done anything truly just for yourself; simply because you wanted to. You nodded at your brother. “It’s fine. You go ahead.”

“You sure?”

Nodding to reassure him, you smiled again and Alex backed up a pace. “Cool. Text me later, ok?” he said as he retreated towards his friends, clearly trying to hide his excitement at not having a passenger for the great, twisting section of A-road they were heading for.

“Will do. Have fun, and don’t crash!” you called after him. “Or get a speeding ticket!”

He waved a hand over one shoulder without looking back, and you laughed and returned your attention to Oats. “Brothers.”

“Bikers,” he replied. “You try telling that to any of that lot though —” he gestured towards his own group of friends who were now filtering out of the door. “You ready to head out too or do you want to stay?”

You did want to stay, but the seat wasn’t that comfortable anymore, and you wanted to move around a bit. “No, I’m good to go,” you said and prepared to slide off the stool, but Oats stepped down first and held out his hand to you. You didn't need helping down, and his playful little smirk told you he knew as much, so you rode out the last of that demonic possession and let your fingers slide across his palm and he steadied you off the stool.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Pleasure.”

You picked up your helmet from where you’d stowed it on the floor at your feet and straightened to find him waving casually across the room to the good-looking guy with the ethereally pretty boyfriend. Before he stepped away from you and made towards the door though, you cleared your throat and said, “Oats?”

“Mn?” Looking down at you, his entire attention honed in on you, like you were the centre of the universe, and you swallowed back a sudden welling of emotion.

“Listen… Thank you… for… coming over to me today. Like I said, it’s my brother’s birthday, and he was here with his friends, and he only included me so I didn’t feel completely left out, but…” Accursed tears washed over your eyes for a moment but you blinked them away furiously and ploughed on regardless. “I’m really glad I came along today anyway,” you finished rather pathetically.

His full, beautiful lips curled into a gentle smile and he blinked softly and exhaled. When he spoke, his voice was low and his words private, as though you weren’t standing in a busy cafe surrounded by people and the cheerful clatter of coffee cups and laughter. “I’m really glad I did too. I wasn’t going to, you know? I was going to stay at home and edit a boatload of raw photographs for a client, but Demon convinced me to come out. I guess I owe him.”

“‘Demon’? For… For the speed?” you asked, wondering how he came by his nickname.

“For the horns,” Oats replied in deadpan humour. “Have a look if he’s still there when we go outside. You ready?”

You followed him out of the cafe with a nod, and just as you took a deep, indulgent breath of fresh, heathland air, Oats’ group of friends filed out past you on their bikes. The one named Demon was in the lead, and the nickname made immediate sense. Sitting astride a blood-red Panigale, with his boyfriend clinging on behind him like a limpet, the guy had pale, curving horns fixed to the crown of his helmet.

“Yeah, that tracks,” you said, and Oats waggled his dark eyebrows.

The Amazon had a Yamaha R1 like your brother’s, but hers had a pearl-white wrap that made it look almost spectral, and riding out in front of her was Coco on a yellow and black Honda Hornet.

The telltale red plait told you that the guy in the wheelchair was on a modified Kawasaki, with unusual struts at the back that looked like they would come down when he stopped to stabilise him instead of having to take his legs off the foot pegs, where they were currently Velcro-ed in place. Watching the whole group file out was Hank, standing beside a battered old pickup. In the bed of the truck, you could just see that the red-headed biker’s wheelchair secured in place.

Hank waved the last of them off, then glanced over at Oats. The older man lifted his nose just a little, as if he too was enjoying the fresh, moorland wind that whipped across the car park, and he nodded once at Oats, and then at you to your surprise, before clambering stiffly up into his pickup and closing the door. It shut with a raucous yelp of rusty hinges.

You stood there and watched Oats’ friends all file out, all waving at Oats as they passed, before they set off down the road in a roar of revving engines to leave a lonely looking Bonneville waiting patiently near the stone wall of the car park nearby.

“Yours, I presume?” you said, nodding at it.

“Yup.”

“She’s a beauty,” you mumbled, self-consciousness prickling at the sides of your neck for the silly comment.

Oats beamed though, his sea-foam eyes lighting up as the crinkles around his eyes and the slight dimples in his cheeks creased under the force of his obvious pleasure. “Thank you. She’s my pride and joy. You ready? Oh, wait, you should put your address into my phone before we get going,” he laughed.

You nodded, taking the offered phone from him. Your fingers brushed against his warm skin as you took it, and a tiny thrill passed through you that you did your best to quash. With your address plugged in and a route home waiting to be followed, you handed it back to him and looked up into his handsome, rugged face as he smiled.

“Cheers. Let’s go,” he said, and you trailed along beside him over to his bike, heartbeat thudding in your ears with your nerves.

He swung a leg over and turned the key, then pushed the bike upright and nudged the side-stand in with his left foot before flicking the switch and bringing the bike to life. She growled beautifully, the low, thundering rumble of her engine sounding far more visceral and primal than your brother’s sports bike did. Perhaps it was the design of the lower-slung Bonneville, with its visible parts that made you think of a Steampunk aesthetic, but you instantly preferred it. Plus, the double seat looked way more cushioned — and less precarious — than the one you’d perched on to get to the cafe that morning.

Oats got himself comfy while you slid your helmet on, then he looked over his shoulder at you and nodded, so you took that as your cue and got settled on the pillion seat behind him. The footpegs were already down. The pulsing purr of the machine beneath you was almost enough to distract you from the fact that you were entrusting your life to a relative stranger, whom you’d never seen ride before, and as you climbed on and rested your hands politely on his shoulders, you felt a shiver travel through your whole nervous system.

“Do whatever’s comfortable for you, obviously,” Oats said over the noise of his bike, “But if you want to hold my waist — if you can actually get your arms around my middle, that is,” he chuckled self-effacingly, “— feel free. Totally up to you.”

“Thanks,” you yelled back, and, because apparently that pesky demon of confidence was still kicking around, you hugged his torso.

It was wonderful.

Slowly snaking your arms around his middle, you felt your chest press against his back and you caught the way he inhaled slowly and tried not to wonder what it meant. It felt so good to hold him that you had to remind yourself it wasn’t a hug. It was to keep you in place while a gorgeous stranger drove you home on his equally gorgeous bike. With a final thumbs-up to check you were happy, to which you replied with a nod of your head and tried not to clack your helmet against his, he pulled away and your heart leapt for the sheer joy of it.

Where the R1 was built for sleek speed and bursts of power, the Bonneville was build to be enjoyed, and oh gosh, did you enjoy every curve.

And not just the curves in the road, either.

Oats was soft, but he was solid, and the urge to rest one hand on his thick thigh was almost overwhelming, until he took the corners at just the right pace to be exhilarating without you having to worry about your safety, and you clung on instead and laughed behind the safety of your visor.

It was all over way too soon, and as the Bonneville chugged into your road like a steam train and halted outside your poky, terraced house with its quaint little kitchen garden out the front in the postage-stamp of space between the pavement and the house, your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. Please don’t let this be it, you thought desperately.

You went through the motions of getting carefully off the bike without staggering or falling, and again, Oats held out his hand to help steady you. You gripped his fingers gratefully and when you gave an extra little squeeze to his hand at the end, you could have sworn he answered with one of his own and a throaty chuckle.

He dismounted too, which surprised you, and you wondered if you were going to have to ask him inside. As much as you wanted that in principle, you desperately didn’t want it to happen today because the house was a mess: laundry was still hanging up all over the place, and you’d cooked a curry the previous night and it was definitely still lingering in the air.

Oats took off his helmet but left his bike idling, which went a little way to reassuring you, and when you looked more closely at his expression, you thought you saw a hint of something familiar lingering in the corners of his eyes. Was he nervous?

Swallowing thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing behind the thick, 5 o’clock shadow that looked like it lingered pretty constantly no matter the time of day, Oats took a deep breath, held it, and then smiled at you. “Fuck,” he exhaled, and laughed. “I’m… very rusty at all this.” He held his helmet in both hands before him, toying with the strap.

“If I gave you my number, would you maybe like to meet up again?” you asked, taking pity on the man.

“Very much,” he said softly. “Like I said, Natalie is with her mum for the holidays, and apart from a wedding I’m covering next week, this is a pretty slow time of year for me. I’m free… mostly whenever.”

The reminder that he had a daughter with someone else did make you wonder what you were letting yourself in for. Children weren’t really something you had any expense of, since neither you nor your brother had shown any parental inclinations yet, and you weren’t particularly close to your cousins who had small kids.

“Ok, let me give you my number and we can figure something out.”

That done, he slid his phone back into his pocket and zipped it up, biting gently at his lower lip for a moment. “I know it’s bold,” he said, “But may I kiss you?”

Your heart skipped and soared. Breathless, you looked up at him and whispered, “Yes.”

His tiny, gentle, lopsided smile heralded the kiss’ approach, and he took your jaw delicately in one, leather-gloved hand as he leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. They were soft but insistent against yours, and you answered with a little moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

He groaned, pulling you closer with a low growl so that you were pressed flush against him for a moment before he stepped back and exhaled roughly. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Thank you. I’ll… I’ll see you soon?”

You nodded, feeling like you were floating inches above the ground.

You watched him re-mount his bike and adjust himself a little once he was settled, then he revved it playfully for you, and rode away after a final look back at you. He flipped his visor down as he pulled away, and you watched the bike and its rider disappear down the road.

‘Soon’ couldn’t come soon enough…

I really hope you enjoyed this. If you did, please consider showing your support by reblogging. It really is the best (and totally free!) way to help the artists and writers whose work you enjoy.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar) | Patreon

#oats the kelpie #monster romance #kelpie #male kelpie x female human #full moon motorcycles #supernatural biker group #plus size female reader #plus size reader #male kelpie x female reader #male monster x female reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #dadbod monster #dadbod #single father monster #monster dad

444 notes · View notes