#so soon we be getting the dark nights back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yourplasticlittlespastic · 1 day

Text

E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series - Part 10!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: +18 filth, dirty stuff, drink holy water but also romance bc yes

Notes: This is (not) the final chapter of this series omg thank you for reading. I am not done with the series itself, whatever plot comes to my mind I am sure I will develop it. If you have also requests for the series, maybe headcanons, blurbs, or anything I am your loyal writer!

WC: 5.9K

Taglist: @fallout-girl219 @ravenwtfbro @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dollarstore-lydia-deetz

Bournemouth smelled like pines, salt, humidity and sex.

You grabbed your fan and placed it on top of your head, the sun was threatening to burn your skin any second now and you were already sweating too much for your own liking and still you loved every aspect of it. Your hand softly traced the damp sand next to you and you tried to sign your name in it, your eyes darted to the front and you saw Benedict kneeling on the sand meters away from you and he looked addicted to the view.

A chalk by his right hand and a sketching pad in his left. He was inspired.

"Did you see that?!!" he yelled, turning only his head and pointing to the sky "The birds are hunting fish!" he laughed

"I see it!" you yelled back, your hand grabbed the sweating glass of lemonade and you drank all of it "I must go to the water!"

"Yes! Yes!" he exclaimed turning to his sketch "Enjoy!"

You stood up, your head bending away from the umbrella and your feet touched the warm sand. You passed Benedict as he kept sketching and your feet finally touched the sea water. As you giggled, you ventured further and the water soon reached your belly.

The horrid dress you had to wear for sea bathing clung to your body, and the skirt threatened to float up if it wasn't for the small sacks hanging from the skirt actually to prevent that. You stepped further and the water was reaching the underside of your breasts. The waves hit you with their force and you almost lost your balance, but you managed to stay standing. Your hair was being pulled back, your face felt the wind and you laughed, looking at the sun. Why people don't do this often?

"Y/N?!"

You spun around and saw Benedict "Hi!"

"I thought you would damp your soles!" he snorted seeing your small head floating next to the vast sea "You are an adventurer!"

"I am a sea woman!" you laughed "A mermaid!"

Benedict replied with a smile, ran back to the several towels spread by the sand and took a sip of the lemonade. You floated naturally without help and you thanked your mother for taking you to the famous peerless piscine several times. You grinned when Benedict ran to the sea and shivered once the water touched him.

"Come on now!" you yelled

"It is cold!" he kept going forward, the breeches turned black as the water collided with his legs "Oh woman, how do you stay inside there?"

"It gets warm after a while" Your body lost its weight underwater and you kept on flowing with the tide as you waited for him to be next to you "Perhaps you can get in before night"

"Don't tease"

"I can't stop myself"

He reached you and you two looked at each other, the wind was getting wilder and his eyes were shining with the sunlight. Benedict looked like a creature, his pale skin contrasted with the dark water, his eyes were so blue turning green and his hair was slightly moist with the drops of the sea.

"You lo-"

Both of you laughed as you tried to talk at the same time. Benedict's hands floated your way as he hugged you and you smiled at the warmth of his body, his hands were so big they could probably wrap your whole waist and the idea was too thrilling to be ignored.

"You look like a goddess"

"Well thank you" you kissed his lips gently and looked to the sky, the sun was at its peak "Can we stay here forever?"

"We might turn into merpeople"

"Not the water, the place. Is so quiet"

"Just a few cottages around" he nodded "and they charged me shillings for a basket of vegetables"

"Shillings?"

"Four"

"Oh" you laughed "this is heaven then"

"I wondered," he said floating and staring at you "when would you like to get settled? London or the country?"

You smirked, "You know me, what do I like?"

"The country of course"

"And the city?"

"You like it a lot" he chortled "But you also enjoy the quietness of the countryside"

"What do you like?"

"The country, for sure. London has become crazy, hasn't it?"

"I Loved Your Cottage"

"It is yours now"

"No, I mean, Your Cottage, you silly"

"Ah" he beamed as he leaned backwards wetting all his hair and turning it from chestnut to black "It is not as big as your house"

"And? Doesn't it feel more like a home?"

Benedict got a glimpse of the future inside that cottage, the two of you waking up in each other's arms, making tea, making love, making breakfast and having the entire house for the both of you. It would be a quiet, calm, and peaceful life, like his parents and siblings, family, home, marriage, and kids.

"Come here" The sudden passion got the best of him as he grabbed you from your waist and kissed you deeply, he tasted drops of seawater by your lips and still he swore it was sweet just like before. "We can get a place here" he suggested "This might not be Italy but it surely has beautiful views"

"It can be a vacation place, I know that you want to practice art don't you?"

"No doubt"

"This is further from clients, you ought to have a closer practice to London and we can return to your house for any sort of commissions you might have there"

"That might be the most wifeful statement you have ever said"

"Am I not your wife?"

"You are beyond that" he stated playing with the water next to him "Whatever you want to do with your time?"

"You mean to earn money for a living?" you went straight to splash water on him "Who would employ me?"

"You are the smartest person I know, if you want to do something else I am here to support you, aren't I? Do whatever pleases you, darling"

You looked at the horizon, the sun was going down slowly. A mother? You wanted a family, you desired Benedict's children. Can there be something more than duty within the household?

"I will think about it. I promise" You nodded "I am parched, I'll drink something and will come back so don't move"

You kissed him again and swam back to the towels and the umbrella. Benedict looked at the sun as it kept setting, a smile was forming on his face as he imagined his life, and he was happy, happier than ever but alas his thoughts were cut sharp like a knife slicing bread.

"Oh, look at that" he murmured

As you walked outside the water he saw every angle of your body. The sea bathing dress -that was considered for modesty- did absolutely nothing to hide your modesty. On the contrary, he swears that you look like a marble sculpture with a thin veil covering your curves. The way the wet fabric clings against your thighs and your bottom, the way it hides next to your core and when you return from drinking your lemonade he got the best view.

Whatever for he was sketching the sky when he could be sketching you instead?

"Ben?"

But your questioning was cut because he didn't realize he was being pulled by the image of you. He felt the wind crashing against his damp clothing but he did not care he only shushed his name from your lips and pulled your body to his and kissed you fiercely, the world stopped spinning and everything went in slow motion. Benedict could not help himself but moan and he could feel the heat growing on his groin as he kissed your lips and tasted the lemonade by the way your mouth opened.

"What was that?" you panted, breathless

"I don't know," he whispered, his fingers touching your face, his other hand tracing your curves "you just looked..."

"Yes?"

"Every time" he snorted cupping your cheeks "Every time I believe I have found my inspiration, rather is in that bloody bird hunting fish with the sky and the sea as witness... you come and in your own way you make realize my inspiration is and will forever be you"

You were blushing, your heart was beating too fast for your own liking, your eyes were watering, and your mind was in a trance. You had the power to inspire such a great man "Try to take it back" you said

His pupils were dilated as his hands went to your waist and squeezed it, he felt his cock growing as his eyes travelled through the entirety of your figure. Benedict was in awe and in love. He ran his nose next to your temple and the scent of your skin mingled with the salt of the water made his groin ache

"Darling"

"I'm not stopping you, I am asking you"

"You are a dangerous woman" he gently pushed you down tot he and kissed you again, his lips traveled to your jaw and sucked your skin until the collarbones, his teeth nibbled the flesh and he groaned, his hands were pulling your hips to his "So dangerous"

"Ben" you sighed, your body was on fire that you swore the heat coming off from you could dry your dress in an instant. His tongue licked the salty water from your neck and he sucked hard, leaving a bruise. His lips kissed and sucked, and your head tilted to the side to give him more space, his mouth was doing wonders and your body was trembling, and your legs were clenching together "Oh"

Benedict stopped the attack and cupped your chin, he guided your face to look at him and it was the most absurd feeling he has ever had but nonetheless valid to him because he can swear on God himself that every time he is about to ravish you, he feels like it's the first time. Over and over again, like the most wonderful spell.

"Every moment without you feels like an eternity; you are my deepest longing and my sweetest torment, Y/N"

He caught you off guard and the gasp from your mouth came not only by his loving confession but by the attack next to your vocal cords. Suddenly your dress weighed heavily on you, and your body felt like sinking in the sand so you fidgetted and tried to take your dress off, he noticed it and helped you.

The damped fabric flew and landed heavily on the sand leaving you bare to him again. The exposure was very welcome by you, comfortable under his grip as he took one of your nipples inside his mouth and sucked. You moaned, your hands gripping his hair as he sucked hard and then licked the hard bud "Oh"

His cock twitched in his breeches, and the need for more friction was getting out of control so he unbuttoned the trousers and let them fall to his knees, and then he took his shirt off. Your fingers traced his torso, small grains of sand attached to his skin.

"Look at you" he stood kneeling with you lying down, he admired the way your breasts heaved and fell in a tantalizing rhythm and his hand traced your abdomen and the curls of your sex "So exquisite"

"Benedict" you pleaded, your legs were clenching against the need and you were growing impatient.

He smirked, his finger caressed the sensitive nub and you jumped in pleasure, a moan escaped from your lips as he touched you, the pad of his fingers circling and teasing the bud, his index finger slipped in between your folds and he could not help but grunt at the feeling of your warmth "So wet"

"Please" you moaned again, the heel of your feet pushing down the trousers away from his knees, Benedict hissed as the breeze hit him "Don't make me beg"

"Wouldn't dream of it"

He removed his finger from you and took your wetness around his throbbing member and started pumping his length. You looked at the act and the way his hand moved along with his shaft, his eyes were locked on yours as the pace of his movements increased, he could see how the sight affected you.

"Y/N" he murmured and dropped his body on top of you, the weight of his body against yours made your core burn and his cock rubbed the wetness of your folds, the tip was leaking and the urge of wanting him inside you was making it harder and harder to be patient "My love, you drive me insane"

"I want to feel you" you begged and you did not care

Benedict pushed himself inside you and gasped, the warm feeling was intoxicating. You bit his shoulder and the sting was welcome as he started moving. Your hips were meeting his thrusts and the waves hitting you didn't help at all.

"God!"

You moaned, feeling every inch of him, his thrusts were becoming frantic and the feeling of his body rubbing against yours was bringing you to the edge, his fingers gripped your hips tightly, and his head dropped by the crook of your neck, his breathing was irregular, He couldn't fathom coming now, so soon.

So he stopped and pulled out. A disappointing look came from you by the lack of friction but Benedict went to the other side of the towels and plummeted on his back as he waved his fingers at you.

"Come here"

And you did, climbing over him and placing his cock at your entrance. You sunk down and threw your head back, your hands placed themselves by his pectorals and he took your breasts with his mouth. You didn't know in which position you felt closer to him but this one, you could feel him reaching so deep.

"Ben"

"Y/N"

You were riding him and his hips bucked, his hands went to your hips and gripped them tight. Break all of him he did not care. The sight of you bouncing without any care in the world, the sun hitting your back, the sand sprinkled by your shoulders and the sweat forming on your chest.

"Take me all" he panted, his hand grasping your bottom and squeezing it hard "I'm so close, darling, take me"

"Benedict!, I-"

The orgasm came for you first, your core clenched around his cock while your sense only focused on the tantalizing moment of the shock, and he grunted, his hips bucking into yours with the sole purpose of making you keep all of his seed now and never let it go out of you.

Benedict contracted and his mouth opened gasping for air as he came. Your hips were moving and helping him ride out his orgasm. His cock twitched inside you and his hands fell limp by his sides, slowly he went to lay flat while you were still on his lap.

"Y/N" he rubbed his mouth

"Hmmm?"

"You are not allowed to go near the sea, you hear me?"

You chuckled "Why is that?"

"Because you are dangerous, a siren, and you will lure me"

"More than I have lured you now?"

By dinner time, you two were sore of the sun and without help around you were chaotic.

"Stew has carrots"

"Does it?"

"Please" you took the cutting board "Potatoes and tomatoes"

"Can we add..." he closed the basket "Artichoke"

"Sure! With some runner beans"

"Have you tried them?"

"No" you read the small note from the farmer "But he placed them inside"

"They are hard as pebbles" he scrunched his nose as he touched the vegetables "He ought to boil them"

"Alright, let's fill the pot and boil them"

"Is there tea?" he suddenly asked

"Whatever for?"

"Drink"

You rolled your eyes and stopped putting vegetables inside the pan "First we need to boil these, Benedict"

He sighed "I am clueless in the kitchen"

"And I'm not? You come here and fill this pot, I won't starve"

"We should have brought help"

"No"

"and why not?"

"We must learn to be self-sufficient"

"I'm quite sure that no matter where we go we will bring Mrs and Mr Crabtree with us"

"In the meantime we are alone. Did you fill it?"

"Here" he passed the pot

"Thank you" you smiled and placed the pot by the fire you struggled to start then you took the kettle, you placed the pot under the sink and waited for the water to boil "Where's the tea?"

"Uh" Benedict rushed, proud he found it he passed the can "Here, my love"

"Do you know how brew it?"

"O-of course!" he laughed taking the kettle "Mother showed me once"

"Once" you raised your eyebrow

"She had faith"

You nodded and went back to chopping vegetables and he watched how the water slowly started boiling, his mind wandered to the past days and the idea of having a family with you was the thing he was most looking forward to.

"I'm quite confident we have this!" he exclaimed

An hour later you sprinkled salt and butter on top of the bland boiled vegetables while sipping a tea filled with small leaves and dunking a small biscuit in it. So much for being self-sufficient.

That night however among some stomach cramps you slept and woke up with the sound of the waves hitting the shore. The sun was coming out and the smell of salt and seawater was fresh. You went to the balcony and looked at the ocean and the sky, the clouds were forming a beautiful view and you smiled. Breakfast came and it was less of a hassle to prepare, along with the confiture of many fruits. Afterwards, Benedict and you walked around the land, the pines enclosed a beautiful view and the bushes hid foxes and bunnies you tried -and failed- to feed.

By lunch, Benedict prepared lemonade, once putting salt rather than sugar, and ventured to the sea where you swam until your stomach roared. You went back to the cottage and had a light lunch before returning to the water before dinner. That was the routine, oh-so peaceful routine that usually ended with Benedict kissing your waist and burying his face between your legs trying to find something to eat that is not vegetables nor soup.

By the last night inside the cottage, you forgot about dinner at all while Benedict took the orange confitures and smirked at your bare chest by the kitchen table.

"It is like a painting" he said taking a spoonful and letting the translucent syrup drop from the spoon by your skin "It is so beautiful"

You moaned and felt the cold liquid dropping by your chest, his fingers played with the confiture and your body was responding, your legs were slightly shaking at the passive touch.

"We have blueberries? Confiture I mean"

"I believe so"

He chirped and walked back to the cupboard. You could hear him opening and closing, and you saw him going to the sink and opening the jar, he took the spoon and scooped some of the contents of the jar and came back to you.

"Blueberry and orange"

"I don't know but it looks amazing" he let the liquid drop, his movements like the artist he is and he sprinkled more drops by your navel. The heat in your body was rising and the need to be touched was getting bigger and bigger. Benedict dropped a small quantity over the curve of your breast and you were about to scream but then he dropped his mouth and licked the fruit from your body.

"It's too much sugar" you added

Benedict's lips, slightly covered by the syrupy fruit, smiled and licked his lips. He continued to do it again and again. It was so hot in the kitchen that the humidity was starting to get the better of you. He continued licking your skin and his hand grabbed the jar and opened the lid.

"I'm going to ruin you" he whispered, his mouth sucking your neck and the confiture of blueberry dripping into the curve of your stomach

"You already did" you gasped, and another kind of syrup started to form between your legs

"No, dear, this time I will make sure you never forget what means to be loved by me"

He dripped more confiture and his mouth was ravishing your skin. The mixture of his mouth and the cold sweet syrup was driving you mad. Your hips were lifting from the table and your hands were pulling his hair. The need of him, his cock, anything, was consuming you.

"Benedict" you were panting "Don't make me wait"

"Never, my love"

His lips went to your navel and as his hands pushed and pulled the skirt of your dress he found the absence of your pantalettes and grinned at you.

"This is the first time you don't wear them"

You felt like a child as you threw your hands in the air "Are you going to talk about them or do something about it?"

"Impatient" he scolded and his mouth went to your core. The heat coming off your cunt was making him hungry, he could smell your arousal, and his tongue licked the wetness. Better than any sweet syrup he could taste. His hands were holding the back of your thighs as his tongue worked his magic.

You whined and lifted your hips to push his tongue deeper, you needed more friction, but he was not having it. He promised to ruin you tonight, he needed to keep his word. Benedict took his time licking and nibbling the lips and then the hood of your sex, he dipped his tongue inside you and the taste of the fruit mingled with the taste of you and the need of filling himself with you was adamant.

The art of teasing was his masterpiece and as he moved his mouth to the little nub your cries were growing louder and louder. Your legs were shaking and the pressure in your belly was building faster than ever. Your fingers gripped his hair and your legs closed around his head not before he pulled apart and that left you breathless.

"Benedict!"

What a low man he is right now denying an orgasm to the woman he loves but he can't "Forgive me, this cannot end like this. Stand up, love"

He helped you stand up and kissed you, his hands were on your hips and his mouth was devouring yours, his teeth pulling your bottom lip, and you gasped. His tongue tasted like a mix of confiture, and you could feel your essence still there, and his cock was pulsating. He spun you around and softly bent you down. The cold table was hitting your body and his cock was pressing by your backside.

"Benedict, pleaseeeoh! oh!" you felt him inside in one single stride and your hand slapped the table with force "Oh!!"

He grunted at the easiness of his thrust, his hips were meeting yours and he could see the way your ass was moving against his thrusts, he was mesmerized and his hand reached to your hair and pulled your head back.

"I want you to come hard and scream my name"

"I will" you cried, his cock was pushing against the spot that makes you scream.

"Who is making you feel like this, love?"

"Oh, oh!"

"Y/N"

"You! God!"

But he stopped. As much as he liked the sound of his name spilled between your lips he stopped. He took you and trotted to the reading room where he sat on the couch and guided your body to his lap.

"Come here"

"I need you" you whispered as you took his member and aligned it to your entrance

"Then take me"

The position made him feel more intense, you were bouncing up and down and he was thrusting from his angle. He captured your breast in his mouth and sucked hard trying to leave his mark; his hand slapped and kneaded your butt and he loved how it felt.

"Benedict"

"Come" he grunted, and his fingers were rubbing your clit fast "Come with me"

Your mouth parted with the final release of what has been denied of you for some minutes. It felt better, stronger and more craved than an orgasm without teasing. You rode, rode and rode as Benedict was being milked by your insides. He squinted his eyes, flashes of your curves waving front and back as you rode him and dried him again.

Still. He was hard and full for you.

He remained quiet against your panting and allowed you two to giggle yourself out of the frenzy of the moment.

"Well" you rubbed your arm "Hunger is forgotten"

"Not quite" he took you from your hips, pushed you out of his cock and made you -in a second- kneel on the couch

"What ar-"

"Ruining you"

"Benedict"

"Y/N, love"

You screamed as he entered you again, his cock inside of you still strong against your walls and the new angle made the feeling even better. His thrusts were frantic, his hands were gripping the edge of the couch and the sweat was dripping from his chest.

"You're so tight, darling"

Your hands were stopping your head from hitting the armrest while naturally, your ass curved to meet his frantic hips, once, twice, thrice he kept on going and his hand rapidly rubbed your folds.

"Wai- wait!" you said between moans "Oh-wait, I'm-"

"I will make you so full" he rubbed your nub and saw your release under him, how one of your legs stretched backwards as your body quivered and the wetness dripped between your thighs "So full"

He didn't stop, he continued, his cock was throbbing and he could feel the seed ready to burst out and his body was aching, he could not fathom another minute, he couldn't.

"Oh, god!" you whimpered "Oh, Ben"

"My love" he grunted, and the white ropes of cum hit the walls of your cunt, and your walls milked him once more in too much sensitivity you both collapsed.

"That was..." you chuckled, your chest rising and falling "Something"

"Yeah" he said, his body falling by the side of the couch

You were sore, every part of your body was tired, but the warm feeling was present and Benedict's eyes were focused on the ceiling.

"Y/N" he panted

"Yes, love"

"I don't know about you, but I'm famished"

You chuckled, the smell of sex was intoxicating but the thought of having a good meal made the difference.

"Do you crave boiled artichokes?"

"With badly brewed tea?"

"You are reading my mind, Mr Bridgerton"

*-*-*-*

Your eyes darted to the inside of Violet's cottage, a gift from Edmund when she became with child -Anthony- and you felt somehow ashamed at the way you profaned the place. By the dining room, you took the duty of getting Benedict's cock inside your mouth. By the kitchen, Benedict spread strawberry confiture on your breasts and sucked them whole. By the reading room, you two wrinkled so many pages while he trusted into you on top of the desk or last night's encounter that you swore you could smell it in the air.

You blushed at the images and tried to remember if you left the house in a good state. You took your small satchel and left the Bournemouth Cottage -not cottage- and joined Benedict by the carriage.

"We will be back" he promised "Once we settle I will write to my mother and tell her that planning a family event here can be what we all need. Perhaps if Colin hears we will be next to the sea he will join... that man and his travels"

You giggle slumping on your seat "He's next"

"For?"

"For finding someone"

"Oh, so it's between Eloise and Colin, isn't it? What a season will be"

"And Francesca too"

"My God" he closed the door and patted the ceiling "If we have girls, I will never allow them to leave us"

"What if they meet someone like you?"

He snorted "Especially someone like me" he teased "So, where to?"

You smiled "My Cottage"

"Your Cottage understood... Sir!" he exclaimed "To Wiltshire please!"

It was a lost day from Bournemouth to Wiltshire, by dinner you two arrived and Mrs Crabtree could not stop telling both of you how red you were and how she owns a "special ointment" for such burns, Mr Crabtree was fast to argue that the ointment is the one causing burns and not fixing them.

The next morning however as tired as you were you woke up before Benedict, a routine that was well established and your appetite opened not with the smell of boiled vegetables but by a beautiful service a la francaise presented by Mrs Crabtree. You quite devoured most of it leaving Benedict with his share and when he found it, he finished it in half the time you took to eat yours.

"I have some news"

"Hmmm?"

"I read the letters while we were on our Honeymoon. One from my mother saying she expects us before the season ends for one or two balls"

"That is no problem"

"One from Anthony, he asked me to keep track of some accounts"

"The ones you managed while he was on his honeymoon?"

"Those exactly" Benedict took a final sip of tea, "He asked for some help that's all and then... another letter from this professor of mine, he has reached too many families in London and has advertised my talents"

"Oh"

"Yes, he is positive I will start my practice soon"

"I thought you already did"

He blushed "Thank you"

"So, will you open a studio?"

"Perhaps, I'm thinking about it, perhaps" he chuckled "And imagine them buying my own pieces?" he chortled "That must be the best feeling ever"

You reached across the table and squeezed his hand "You better get your supplies, you had an arsenal back in London. If we visit your Mother then we shall take them"

"I shall take that painting of yours"

Your eyes widened "Please tell me you covered it"

"Is not even finished, Y/N"

"Is that an invitation for me to keep posing?"

"Help an artist in need" he smirked

Peace after the honeymoon was achieved. The newfound freedom you got after being married had a certain glow on you. You started reading more, writing and debating more... Mrs Crabtree was quite the best person to polish your argumentative skills, that woman could not hold her tongue at all. It was a month of a blissful marriage life and countless "I can't walk" mornings.

By the time you arrived in London the gates of the Bruton House opened and Hyacinth and Gregory's voice filled the echoing entrance.

"Mother?!" Benedict called out as the children reached him

"In the drawing room!"

She greeted you so warmly, she asked about the cottage and rambled about her times in it, Daphne joined later surprising the rest, she beamed high and radiant with a plump belly and a child in her arms.

"Daphne" you greeted

"Come here, you" she hugged you with her baby by the side "You ought to tell me everything"

"Let me" you tried to help her with the child by her arms "Hi Belinda" you smiled at your good memory "Well, hello beautiful"

"Brother, I must keep Y/N for myself this moment"

Benedict shrugged at the proper way his sister always talked and turned around to talk with his mother, of course not after getting a glimpse of the small creature by your arms, the way you tried to hold her properly and how you failed to keep the poor baby steady, rather bouncing it all over. And he loved it.

That night you and him, presented as married joined Lady Danbury's ball, one of the lasts of the season and where a lot of debutantes went hunting, fiercely, for a "last minute husband".

"I got mine quite fast" you joked to Violet who gave you a small nudge and left to be with Francesca

"You are funny" Benedict said by your side

"I lied…Took us years, doesn't it?"

"Years and few days" he scoffed "Don't make it sound like it was the hunt of my life"

You turned to him with squinted eyes "Oh trust me, husband, if someone was indeed hunting... it was not you"

Benedict bumped your puffy dress skirt and you giggled, he leaned down to your ear as a diamond earring adorned it "But did you like the prize?"

You took your gloved hand and cupped his cheek "The most beautiful, most handsome, and talented man of them all"

Benedict gave you a solemn kiss while the clinking of cups echoed in the ball, he took your hand and guided you away from the crowd. After some head bows and smiles you smirked at the lonely room where he was letting you enter. As the shadows appeared, the music faded behind and the smell now of paper triggered your memory.

"And what are we doing here?"

"Bringing justice" he said, his hand touching his tailcoat but he stopped "You know that since I met you your joy was and still is my joy?"

"I did not"

"And your pain is mine too"

You bit your lip and blushed "What about my love? is it yours too?"

"No, it is quite bigger I'm afraid"

"Well," you smiled "at some point something had to differ... What you got there?"

Benedict slightly shook his head at the moment and took the small book from the inside pocket of his tailcoat "This curious little thing"

"Oh" you took it, your fingers expertly finding the poem he wrote inside, a poem for you "Curious indeed"

"I thought we must leave it where we found it" he shrugged "After all, we lend it and we put part of us there"

Your fingertip grazed the binding "I like the poeticness of the act"

"I knew it"

"Tragic too"

"Why so?"

"Shouldn't we put it on our shelf?"

"And hide our story from everyone else?"

You grinned and stared at his shadowy face "Perhaps then... one of those poems became a tangible thing"

You took the book and allowed yourself to read the poem he wrote, the beautiful curves of his handwriting and the captivating meanings of each verse. You extended to him but he pushed it back to you.

"You ought to put it, you took it"

"Alright"

You placed the book right where you remember you once took it. The memory of that night embraced your chest with nostalgia and a slight sting in your eyes. You blinked and pushed the fragile papers inside, a bit deeper so no one could be seriously interested in it.

"Done"

"Good job" he smiled, his face tilted as he captured in his mind this mere moment "You want to know something more?"

"What?"

He held your hand, discarding your glove as he threw it over his shoulder, he gripped your hand skin to skin"I cannot separate where you end and I begin" he proclaimed

You only could swoon at it with a smile, you allowed him to go first as you took the knob "And that is fine by me" you said, your hand pulled the door to the library and it closed "Because between you and me, there is truly not an end, is it?"

148 notes · View notes

lulublack90 · 2 days

Text

Prompt 28 - Comfort

@jegulus-microfic May 28, Word count 787

Previous part First part

When the three of them finally went back to bed, James wrapped his arms tightly around Regulus again and dragged him close. Feeling his smaller body snuggle closer to him. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found him. To have discovered the real Regulus underneath all the snark and snipping. Discover the sweet, sensitive being that was begging to be found.

“Regulus, love?” He whispered into his ear. “Can I take you on a proper date?” He felt Regulus freeze in the bed next to him.

“What do you mean?” Regulus said warily.

“Can I take you out, just the two of us, where no one can disturb us, and we can just have a date.” James shrugged, he was struggling to say what he wanted to say. Regulus unfroze and relaxed again.

“Oh, okay, that sounds nice,” Regulus nuzzled his face further into James’s chest and let out a little sigh. James was puzzled.

“What did you think I meant?” He asked, trying to prise Regulus off him so he could see his face, but the other boy resisted.

“I thought you wanted to take me to Hogsmeade where everyone can see us.” At last Regulus rolled. “Not that I don’t want you too, eventually. I’m just not ready yet.” Regulus gulped, he was clearly nervous.

“I know you’re not ready, love. That’s why we’re having a private date.”

“Okay,” Regulus nuzzled closer again, seeking comfort in James’s arms, and James happily gave it.

He planned the date for the following night. He’d been practising warming charms for the last 2 weeks. Getting Remus to help him. Remus was a good teacher, and he’d soon mastered the harder ones. He’d be able to keep the pair of them warm for hours.

He’d found them when he and Sirius had needed to blow off some steam and gone for a run through the forest. He led Regulus past the tree line and into the darkness. James waved his wand over them and performed a flawless warming charm. They lit the tips of their wands and carefully stepped over roots and dodged low-hanging branches.

Regulus held his hand tightly. He still wasn’t as used to the forest as the others were, but he’d get there.

“How far in are we going?” Regulus whispered so quietly James almost didn’t hear him.

“There’s a gap in the trees about a mile in that I want to show you.” He said, holding a large fern leaf out of the way for Regulus to pass.

“A mile!” Regulus said a bit louder. James chuckled.

“Believe me, it’ll be worth it.

The rest of the trip they didn’t talk much and when they were close, James slowed his walk and held a finger to his lips as he crouched low. He crept forward and poked his head through a bush.

They were there, all three of them. He pulled his head back and waved Regulus forward. Regulus looked nervous but came anyway. It melted James’s heart at how much Regulus trusted him now.

Together they pushed through the bush and watched the unicorn and her foals nibble the sweet young grass. He heard Regulus's intake of breath as he looked in awe at the sight before him. He squeezed James’s hand tightly in his excitement. James bit his bottom lip to keep his smile under control.

They stayed there watching the unicorns until they'd had their fill of grass and the foals had started to play, chasing each other around in circles and kicking out with cheeky whinnies, until their mother snorted angrily when one of the golden babies caught her flank with a tiny hoof. The foals followed their mother back into the gloom of the forest, disappearing instantly into the dense trees.

James turned around and sat on the forest floor, pulling Regulus with him onto his lap. “So, are you enjoying your date?” James asked, peppering kisses up and down Regulus’s neck.

“Yes,” Regulus gasped breathlessly. “It’s amazing, James.” He grabbed James’s face and yanked him away from his neck. James huffed and tried in vain to get free. He stopped struggling and looked up at the sweet boy holding his face.

“I love you,” He blurted out. Regulus’s eyes went so wide, James could see the whites the whole way around. Regulus was so still in his lap that James was frightened he’d scared him so much he’d broken him.

He waited, and Regulus blinked. His eyes sparkled and the smile that spread across his face was the most beautiful thing James had ever seen.

“I love you too,” Regulus whispered back to him, before he leaned forward and kissed James with all he had.

Next part

79 notes · View notes

littlemarianah · 2 days

Text

tw: pain, childbirth.

When I was pregnant the first time, my mother told me something that I never forgot. She said that babies show you who they are while still in your belly.

I didn’t understand what she meant until my daughter arrived at the 37th week of pregnancy. Barely premature. In medical terms, she was ready to be born, but I, the person carrying her, was sure she wasn't ready yet. Willow decided she wanted come out and made my uterus contract and my hips widen to get her out. Even though I begged her to give up the idea.

“Don't be in a hurry, you can stay there as long as you want.” I remember whisper to my own belly, already having painful contractions. After complaining so much about how tired I was of being pregnant, I was afraid that her rush to be born was because of me. But I was wrong, she was just curious to go out, looking forward to her freedom. I tried to warn that the world was much colder and much scarier than she could imagine, but she was determined.

Her birth wasn’t as bad as I thought, in reality. It was quick and it was painful. But the pain never scared me. I closed my eyes and didn't fight with my own body. I let everything happen and just let my mother tell me what to do. I don’t remember if I screamed or cried or moaned... Because every time a contraction came I left my body and only came back when it was over.

When I opened my eyes his blue eyes were there. Looking at me scared, trying to make sure I was alive. He was the only thing that comforted me at that moment, the only thing that kept me standing. It was Peeta's arms that held me through that long winter night. I couldn't sit or lie down without crying in pain. Standing, with my body resting on his, was the least painful position I found to face the contractions.

It was as if we were dancing a waltz, but the music was just my screams. At the end, when the sun started to rise, I swore I could hear the sound of birds. They sounded exactly like my father whistling birdsong. I wanted to tell Peeta what I had heard, but I was always distracted by the overwhelming pain and my moans, my mother's words and Peeta's heavy breathing.

He was silent the entire time. I was grateful I didn’t had to hear words of encouragement that wouldn't help me or stutters of pity. He knew I was capable, he knew I could handle it. Sometimes I searched in his eyes for the trust he had in me, to remind myself that I was able to do it. And I always found what I was looking for.

When I felt her coming out I bent down on my knees and pushed. I could feel the top of her hairy head with my fingers. The pain was absurd and I thought I was going to die from the horrible sensation that filled me. I screamed, so deep and loud that it came out all at once. Her cry made me realized that I had never been so close to life since the day I was born, born from the woman who held Willow for me. My mother was the first person who picked her up.

My legs immediately stopped working. I fell into Peeta's arms and he placed me on our bed. In the same bed we had made Willow.

My mother brought me the little baby in my arms. She was so hot and the air was so cold that all I could do was hold her against me and cover her with a cloth so she wouldn't freeze. While I cried nonstop, so much so that I couldn't even welcome her.

It was Peeta who said it "Hi little girl” for me. As he stroked her hairy, bloody head.

Such a powerful cry for such a small girl, I thought. We were still one, united by a cord and soon it would have to be cut without me being ready. Separating us forever and leaving my baby alone in such a dark world.

#Katniss is a great mother #Peeta is her soulmate #They deserve a happy family #wip #the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #epilogue #willow mellark #toast babies

78 notes · View notes

lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 days

Text

Blue and Fire Engine Red Pt 8

Kara tries to pivot them back towards the normal they’ve established so far. After all, nothing for her has changed– Lena is still a hero, and Kara still… Kara still wants to love her. But she can sense the difference in the way Lena behaves towards her. Responses to Kara’s texts over the following days come fewer and farther between, personable enough but lacking the spark they’d held before. Soon, Kara realizes that what little communication there is, Lena’s stopped initiating.

There’s a wall between them, even when they manage to sneak a dinner together midweek. Lena’s smiles are thin, distant, like a wall has been erected between them. Lena guards herself now in a way she hadn’t before, and the longer Kara lets it be, hoping things will naturally drift back to the way it was, the more Lena pulls away.

Finally, on a night Lena begs off a meet up due to pulling an extra shift at the firehouse, Kara goes to visit her– only to find Lena not there and not ever scheduled to be on duty. A finger of icy dread creeps down Kara’s spine as she drives to Lena’s.

When she arrives, she pounds on Lena’s door. “Lena! It’s me! Open up!”

There’s music from inside, loud and angry and patent evidence that Lena is within. She pounds again and again, then ceaselessly until finally she hears the lock snick back. The door opens, revealing Lena sweating and flushed, hands wrapped for boxing.

This time, Lena doesn’t bother to feign interest in Kara’s presence. Her eyes remain dark, features stormy when she retreats back inside without a word, leaving the door open to follow if she wishes.

The music continues to blast from the mid-sized speaker in the corner, soon accompanied by the beat of Lena’s fists slamming into the punching bag again and again. Kara waits a moment for Lena to pause and catch her breath, but she continues without flagging, until Kara loses her patience and yanks the speaker’s power cord from the wall.

It does nothing to slow Lena’s pace. The force of her blows swings the bag to one side then the other, to the point that it rattles Kara’s bones when she moves to brace it. Still, she refuses to back down.

“We need to talk,” she states with a calm she doesn’t quite feel.

“So talk,” Lena huffs, jabbing with an uppercut that nearly knocks Kara back a step. Kara doesn’t relent.

“I said we.”

Lena’s jaw visibly clenches, and she finally breaks away from the bag, breathing heavily. Kara hesitates, suddenly unsure what to say to navigate the storm gathering around Lena. She crosses her arms over her chest to steady herself.

“Shutting me out after I told you I wouldn’t push is a dick move.”

Lena snorts. “Yet here you are.”

“Because I care about you. Respecting your boundaries doesn’t mean I have to just stand there as you drift away. Not after everything–”

“Everything? Everything over, what, a month? How special.”

“Don’t,” Kara growls. “Don’t trivialize how I feel, and don’t you dare pretend you don’t feel it too.”

“And so what if I do?!” Lena’s shout cuts through the air. “Compatibility consists of more than just good sex–”

“Oh fuck you,” Kara snaps back. She takes a step forward even as Lena moves back. She sighs. “Look. I know I pressed closer than you were ready for. I’m sorry.” She gazes at Lena, searching for her girlfriend beyond the anger. “Could we just– reset?”

“Reset? Really?”

Kara nods. “Yeah. Because one month or no, I like you, Lena. And that’s all I’m asking for. You.”

That at least, seems to give Lena pause. She hesitates, brow furrowing as she studies Kara. In the end though, her gaze slides away once more. Kara’s heart falls.

“It’s not that simple,” Lena murmurs.

“And that is 100% your choice,” Kara shoots back. Complicated doesn’t have to be complicated if Lena doesn’t want it to be. If she does, Kara doesn’t care. “I’m not looking for simple.”

Lena scowls, but says nothing. Kara scowls right back.

“You have trauma. Trust me, I get it. But you don’t get to punish me for caring about you.” At that, Lena nearly flinches, guilt flashing behind her eyes as she looks away. “And waiting for me to drift away is just mean.”

Lena still doesn’t say anything, but now it feels less guarded and more at a loss for words.

“I get that you’re not ready to share, okay? And I get that you may never want to. I just want to be the one there if you do. That is what I’m looking for.”

When silence answers her yet again, Kara loses patience. “And if that’s not something you want– if I am not what you want, fine. But at least have the balls to tell me outright.”

With that, Kara turns on her heel and storms out. She’s just jabbed the button for the elevator when she hears a door open behind her. “Kara!”

Turning, Kara sees Lena standing in the middle of the hallway. Her anger seems to have evaporated, leaving her bereft of anything more to say. The elevator dings open behind Kara, and she has half a mind to enter it out of spite, but her heart speaks louder. She retraces her steps back down the hall, drifting to a stop in front of Lena. She waits.

Lena takes a breath to speak, then another, but nothing comes out. Green eyes meet Kara’s, as though imploring her to understand whatever it is she can’t say. Though the ball of anger in her gut cools, she stands firm.

“I’m not a mind reader,” she says.

Exhaling, Lena closes her eyes. Again, her words seem to fail her, but Kara gives her time to gather herself. Finally, Lena rallies against whatever ties her tongue.

“I like you,” she says, her voice low. “More– more than I should.”

Kara frowns– she doesn’t necessarily like the sound of that. But at least it’s honest.

“I don’t– jesus.” Lena wipes the sweat from her upper lip, her frustration plain. “There are things… things I never want you to know.”

In spite of herself, the words kick Kara in the chest. She means it when she says she doesn’t need Lena’s past. But she does want her trust. Kara releases a breath. “I told you I don’t care.”

Lena shakes her head. Suddenly, Kara realizes it’s not the only part of Lena that shakes. Her hands tremble, as much as Lena tries to hide it by picking at her hand wraps.

“You say that now–”

Kara’s features harden. “Don’t insult me by comparing me to anyone else, and don’t you dare assume for me that I’ll change my mind.”

Lena swallows audibly, and only then does Kara realize the anguish in Lena’s posture. She’s never seen Lena like this, and she knows Lena had pulled away from her because drifting away was the easiest way to let her go. But right now, Lena is facing the most difficult path– for her. Kara softens.

“Hey,” she says, reaching out to still Lena’s fidgeting hands. “We’ve been having a good time, haven’t we?”

Lena exhales, nodding. “Yeah,” she breathes.

“And we were having a good time before Hector told me anything, and without me knowing anything you don’t want me to know. We can keep this going without it.”

“But…”

“If anything changes, for either of us, we can have this conversation again.”

Lena frowns. “It’ll be harder then. To let you go.”

Kara offers her a thin smile. “That’s the risk we take, when we decide to share any part of ourselves with another person. But I promise you– all I want is now, with you. Now, and however much of the future we get.”

The next thing she knows, warm lips press against hers. Lena’s mouth is soft, transferring the salt of her sweat to Kara’s tongue. Wrapped hands frame Kara’s face, before Lena’s forehead rests against hers.

“I want that too,” Lena breathes. “God, I want that so much.”

Kara hears the shake in her whisper, the tremble in Lena’s hands against her skin. She’s afraid, Kara realizes. Truly afraid. Questions and dread bubble in Kara’s chest, but she tamps them down, curling her fingers around Lena’s and giving them a firm squeeze.

“Then let’s do it. Together.”

Lena takes another quaking breath.

“Okay.”

#blue and fire engine red #supercorp #cop x firefighter au #angst #yet hopeful #Lena makes a decision

64 notes · View notes

shysuccubusstuff · 2 days

Text

yandere! diluc pt. 1

Content: dubcon/noncon, stalker behaviour, yandere, syringe, manhandling, kidnap, foul language.

Note: Yeah I know I have a pt. 2 left but i'm so so dry bc of exams and stress so I just wanted to post stuff I like without (trying) to think too much, as always, non-proof reader.

Credits to anitelenia for the lovely divider.

It had been a few days since you started to realize it.

You mostly noticed it when you were alone, walking quietly to your house after your night shift. You had just left the flower shop, trying to walk as fast as possible, just thinking about your warm and soft bed. You were far too deep in your fantasies when you finally stumbled upon someone. Your forehead bumped against something stiff, you could say that it was even hard. Just as you were about to apologize a deep voice talked:

"I'm sorry... I really wasn't looking, are you ok?" Deep blazing eyes encountered with yours, his eyes shining as wild flames despite the cold light of the moon. His hair was swaying, making his face look even more charming, how come you had never seen someone as beautiful as him around? You were dazzed for a moment, your lips almost forming a small circle, luckily, you were fast enough to realize it, finally being able to snap out of it.

"Oh, no, it's my fault, it's kinda dark today so yeah... I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings, I'm sorry..." As soon as you babbled your poor excuses, the man laughted softly, his eyes forming small crescent moons.

"Diluc, just call me by my name." You nodded, a bit stranged cause, who would simply give their name to some stranger found in the middle of the night?

"Oh, nice to meet you sir Diluc, I gotta go, see you around!" You left without losing more time, after all, your dear bed was waiting all alone for you. If only you had pay a bit more attention to whatever that man was saying before leaving...

"I'm sure we will meet much more often from now on, dear." Without saying nothing else, Diluc left, walking back to the wineyard and starting to plan how would he be able to make you let down your walls.

A few months had passed, and just as he had foresaw, both of you had suddenly became the soon-to-be couple in Mondstadt. Everytime people saw you around, his eyes started to share furtive glances, their hands making small gestures in a comedic way. Even despite Diluc acted as if he was unaware, he knew it. After all, those rumors had been planned by him. He helped you with even small stuff, always getting up and bringing you your drink, paying when he invited you to have lunch or diner, always as "friends" of course, definitely not because he was already thinking about the ring to ask you to marry him... He also waited for you after work, always bringing you small bouquetes of flowers that he had "found" around while he was doing small quests (he was actually buying them, then making the bouquet with your favourite flowers).

He had already written down all your favourite places, foods, flowers, colours, the type of clothes that you liked, your most hated food, your fears, the name of your first pet... the list could go on for hours. Cause if he didn't know all that information, could he even call himself your boyfriend?

He also had a "small" compilation of sneak pics he had taken of you, the photos were laying around his room, some were hanged in frames, others were hidden in boxes, the rest were used for his shrine in progress.

Of course, when he finally confessed his feelings, he was 100% sure you would fall in love with him, he had done everything you had told him you liked in a man! So when your face changed, your eyes suddenly losing that loving spark, his world almost crashed completely. You tried to explain it to him, it was not the first time a man who you had considered a friend had confessed to you, so you were a bit dissappointed... did that mean that you had approached her with that intention since the beginning? You didn't know what to think, so you asked him for some time, just enough for you to think deep about it. Before you knew it, his hand was already way too close to your neck, a small zap being sent all through your body and causing you to fall against his arms.

When you finally woke up, you were in his room, the fire was crackling, almost making it feel way too... cozy, almost as if you were at "home". What happened? Just as you were about to move from the bed, you noticed something. There was a chain tied to your ankle, tying you to the bed, your clothes had been changed to a soft nightgown, somehow perfectly fitting your body, what the hell had happened?

You were about to scream, when the door opened, his crimson hair swaying just like the first night you had met. He was carrying a small tray, some grapes and other fruits were on top of it. As soon as he noticed you were awake, his lips curved up, his eyes shining with pure devotion.

"Darling! I'm sorry, it seems the thing I created had a little misscalculation..." Diluc apologized, leaving the tray in his desk.

"Are you ok? Do you feel any type of pain? It would kill me to know that I have hurt you..." His hands moved towards you, although as soon as he saw you flintch his hands stopped, his face looking as hurt as if he was the one that had been chained. He suddenly got up from the bed, once again heading towards his desk and taking something from one of the drawers. He got close to you, and despite your failed attempts of squirming away from his touch, it was all in vain as soon as you felt a pulsing pain, almost as if you had been pricked with a needle. The blood that was supposed to keep you on edge was suddenly towards your lower half. What was happening?

As soon as he had used that strange needle, your whole body had went soft, almost limp. did he inject something inside of you? Before you were able to complain anything about it, your brain felt as if it had turned into mush, your brain feeling too fuzzy to think.

"What... what was that?" Diluc eyes' glistened, looking a bit too proud of his work.

"Just some potion to help ease your mind, you looked too... stressed before, but now you look just like a pretty little doll, darling. Did you like the nightgown I bought? I knew it would suit you, but I didn't think it would make you look even prettier!" His hands went through your soft hair, his hands feeling a bit too... hot, maybe it was actually your body the one that was melting?

"Diluc, you need to let me go... I... We can talk about all of this... I promise I won't say it to the knights of Favonius..." You tried to hard to form a cohesive sentence, but Diluc's face switched, his calm face turning into a grin.

"Oh sweet heart, you are almost as naive as beautiful. Do you truly think that those... pesky little knights can harm me in anyway?" Diluc's gaze darkened, his eyes drifting through your whole body. "I'm sorry for having to take this...solution, but you were getting a bit too... close, you know?" Diluc sat down at your side, his hand moving your head a little, just enough for your head to rest on his shoulder. "Just being close to you makes me feel at peace, you know?" His body shifted a little, his calloused hand taking your hair out of your face. "I finally made up my mind after seeing you two that afternoon... that damned liar keeps trying to take what's mine." His hands moved, his fingertips drifted through your chest, pinching a bit your nipples, just enough to let a moan leave your mouth.

"That drug is still active, I guess..." He pushed you just a little, your body falling to the bed without much resistance. His frame on top of you, his soft hair sending shivers down your spine. His face lowered, his soft lips leaving kisses all through your neck, letting you whimper as much as you wanted. His hands were moving around, slowly touching your clothed cunt, treating you as if you were a delicate porcelain doll. "I can even see your pretty pussy, are you that excited to be touched?" You tried to complain, of course that was not the case! That damned syringe had done something to you, of course you were only able to make some complain noises.

"Uhm... to be honest that was just a muscle relaxant, it was just in case you tried to play some little tricks on me, I'm sorry for doubting you, honey. But I swear I will never do anything like it again, I just got a bit anxious." His hands got away from your lower half, going back up and starting to caress your face, kissing your pretty lips and making them all shiny.

"We can consume our love any other day, I've prepared plenty of stuff for us to do, sweet heart." Before you were able to complain, your eyes started to close, body too tired to even ask when would you be free.

#diluc x you #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #smut #fanfiction #x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #diluc smut #diluc fanfic #yandere male #yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere x darling

59 notes · View notes

lilacxquartz · 2 days

Text

Those Late Summer Nights I Chapter 10

Satoru Gojo × Fem!Reader × Suguru Geto

This is a dark/yandere fic that features upsetting themes and it is canon divergent. Updated every Wednesday.

ABOUT: You moved to Tokyo over the summer to take a teaching job. As you get settled in, you find yourself entangled in a toxic dynamic.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You were starting to feel a little overwhelmed with how much attention you had to divide between so many people and then in the midst of it all, something went terribly wrong.

TRIGGER WARNING: Extremely dubious consent/sexual content/coercion/foreplay

Previous Chapter.

10. Just “Friends”

Back home at last, you chose to lay in bed until around four in the afternoon as you muddied your own mind with conflicting thoughts—trying to, hoping—to make sense of everything that had happened so far.

You weren’t quite looking forward to socialising with someone new, but you figured that if they were Shoko approved, then it was likely absolutely fine, so come the correct hour, you unstuck yourself from bed and entered a better state of mind.

Shoko introduced you to an equally nervous looking woman around her age standing right behind her. She was quite pretty, you thought as you looked at her; long dark hair and a scar over her face, kind eyes overlooking her features.

“This is Utahime,” Shoko said as she introduced you to her, “and Utahime, this is [name].”

You both awkwardly said that it’s nice to meet each other as you got settled on the sofa, Utahime brought out a couple of beers from a plastic bag as Shoko opted for a glass of wine instead.

“Any preference?” Utahime asked you, trying to be polite.

“Beer would be nice,” you accepted, not quite feeling the mood for heavier alcohol so soon.

She nodded accordingly in response as she cracked open two cans, seeming quite happy to share.

The conversation for the most part was carried initially by Shoko as you both carefully crossed the barrier in getting to know each other while you resisted the urge to spill too much of your trauma too soon, avoiding a repeat of the last time you spoke to new people.

When full comfort had been achieved, a mutual annoyance for Satoru emerged after a while of talking. Nothing too accusatory, but Utahime’s history with him seemed to paint him as a leading cause of her own stress while Shoko joked that he caused her smoking habit.

You didn’t really have a strong opinion on him just yet, but it was interesting to get to know him through the opinion of others. You wondered it with even Suguru before, thinking about the side he allowed you to get to know—thinking if Satoru was doing something similar to you.

Utahime and Shoko clinked their glasses and cans alike, announcing cheers for a peaceful evening and new company, because Shoko was right—you both did get along.

This newly formed comfort however was relatively short lived as soon as Satoru entered through the door, the celebration seeming to have been some type of summoning ritual for him instead.

“Hang on a sec,” Shoko said as she suddenly sat up, “how’d you get a key?”

She didn’t like that Satoru could just enter her apartment, choosing to come and go as he pleased. Her home was a sacred sanctuary for her own approved company and if he wanted to visit, he’d have to ask the same way as everyone else.

Utahime stared in mild disbelief, now wondering if she had managed to somehow hex herself as she stared bitterly off into her drink.

“Aww, don’t act that way~” Satoru purred as he continued to stroll inside, his hand arrogantly extending to reach out for someone to take hold of it, “we just need an extra person to get our usual table, otherwise they’ll just sit us at the smaller, worse table again.”

“Tough shit. I’m not abandoning Utahime to go be a table filler,” Shoko replied as she rolled her eyes, her hand playfully slapping his own away from her sight.

“I’m not going either,” Utahime replied.

“I-I can go otherwise?” you offered, presenting yourself as a sacrifice. You didn’t actually mind as it felt awkward enough already to third wheel between Shoko and her friend, since you could give them both a chance to catch up as you reconnected with the two people you already were familiar with.

“Don’t stoop to their level,” Shoko said, catching onto your wrist as you stood up, “let them suffer.”

“Ah, but she offered~” Satoru sang, tugging you away to the front door.

“I-It was nice to meet you, Utahime!” you called out as you quickly found yourself dragged outside into the stairwell, barely having time to grab onto your bag and shoes.

Suguru stood outside as he waited, his back leaning against the wall with a knee bent to balance himself.

Satoru walked down first as you followed, Suguru closing in from behind as he watched you go downstairs. In truth, this was his plan all along because he knew that Shoko would be occupied with Utahime and when Satoru showed up at his own place wanting to hang out, he knew that his friend was still burdened with clan responsibilities so he could still end his night with you—if he could help it.

He still felt some conflicting feelings about you getting closer to Satoru, which was exactly why he chose to hang out with him tonight in tow, wanting to keep tabs as to what you were up to at all times to make sure that nothing else blossomed beyond that kiss.

He did seem to understand though, that you didn’t think that the kiss itself was genuine so in his mind, what he was doing was closer to prevention; ensuring that Satoru didn’t try to talk you into doing anything else.

(While Suguru himself talked you into other things.)

You continued to walk in between the two of them to the bar, fully unaware at what festered away in the back of their minds. Suguru’s hand brushed on and off around your hips, guiding you a certain direction as you passed through thicker crowds. Satoru on the other hand occasionally would pull the two of you in as he walked and talked, sensing that you didn’t pull back as much anymore.

In reality, you were slightly buzzed from the maybe two cans of beer you had. They were tall cans and you didn’t quite care to push either of them away, leading them both to have the same type of curiosity invade their minds; could they go even further?

You settled off into the booth you got to know them both at on the night it had all began, sitting opposite with an empty spot beside you instead. Suguru ordered a bottle of sake for a change, pouring the three of you a glass each.

The topics of discussion were trivial for now, at least the ones that you could keep up with anyway. Things like your opinions on Utahime and the discussion of what Satoru was up to for the most part of the day occupied the conversation.

Then at some point during it all, Satoru got a phone call that he couldn’t avoid, zoning off into the distance as he talked himself through it.

“Just my luck,” Satoru sighed as he ended the call, “I’ll be seeing you both tomorrow.”

His tone sounded a little resigned but he tried to smile through the annoyance he harboured, refusing to sour the mood. He didn’t want to be constantly away, especially not during what was supposed to be his time off—but he wasn’t in a position to refuse his responsibilities either.

“Think they’ll bother you this much when work starts up again?” Suguru asked him.

“Probably not, no,” Satoru replied, “I’m probably being pestered so much because they know I have time to spare.”

“Must be difficult being so important,” Suguru teased him.

“You know me, the strongest and the most important,” he continued to joke even if his demeanour did continue to dampen.

When he left, the staff asked you both to downsize to a smaller table anyway to make room for the other customers as the establishment quickly filled out with more and more customers. Suguru didn’t really mind this development as he continued to top you up more, slowly drinking his own glass as you continued to finish off one glass after another, finding yourself a little bit too tipsy to think properly.

It was then that he moved just a little bit closer, playing the current situation into his hands with successful ease this time.

“You know, my place isn’t too far from here,” he spoke deliberately, allowing dangerous words playing off of his tongue in a tempting melody, “Shoko’s probably still busy with Utahime, probably best not to disturb ‘em,” he leaned a little forward as he spoke, “feel like relaxing at mine for a bit?”

You hesitated initially, wondering if by accepting that you were accepting something that you shouldn’t be. You didn’t want to lead him any more than you already had, either.

“I have my own room at Shoko’s you know, I can just wait it out there,” you replied, trying to establish a boundary right away.

“Yeah but, you wouldn’t want to impose right? Besides, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, [name],” he continued to say, coaxing you into his reach, “it would be just for a little while, we’d both sober up and I’ll even walk you back.”

“I mean…” you continued on as you started to slightly panic, your gut instinct telling you to pull away.

“I do this all the time with Shoko and Satoru,” Suguru continued to lie, knowing fully well that he doesn’t really allow anyone into his home, “I just think you need to relax a bit, that’s all.”

“B-but, doesn’t it seem weird if I go back with you while I’m this drunk?” you asked.

“Why would it be weird?” he asked, his voice hushed, as if he didn’t want to be heard by others.

“B-because, like, I don’t know-“

Suguru interrupted you as you spoke, trying his best to remain patient while he had you all alone, “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. We don’t do anything bad, we’ll just watch a movie or something to wait it out.”

“B-but-“

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked you, seeming a little colder.

“I-I mean, I guess I do…” you considered it again, foolishly trusting him to not do anything just because he said that he wouldn’t, the alcohol clouding your judgement.

“Just to unwind, yeah?” he repeated himself, luring you in. “It’s not like I’m asking you to spend the night, right?”

“R-Right.”

Still, some type of danger lurked. You were agreeable right now, drunk and easily swayed. Some type of looming threat filled his all too promising tone, seeming almost deceitful.

Your own gut instinct was telling you to reject him a second time, a third time if you really had to do so—but you didn’t do a single thing.

Instead, in the peak of your inebriated judgement you chose to trust him because he was your friend and because he promised you something so simple and yet so major.

He wouldn’t hurt you.

At least not like that.

(Would he?)

***

The walk back with Suguru felt strangely quiet but it was relatively a short journey just as he had promised you. He kept your body steady as he walked you back to his home, keeping you from tripping over your own feet.

To some extent, he wondered if he should actually be taking it this far with you given that you couldn’t even walk straight—but he wouldn’t be forceful, he’d only go as far as you’d let him.

His place was probably the most central out of all of the places you had been so far, not counting Satoru’s place as you hadn’t yet been there.

Suguru continued to carefully handle you as he sat you down on his bed, his movements feeling all a little too personal and calculated. His hand drifted back to your thighs to test the waters of your own lacking sobriety as his other hand swooped in to meet around your waist.

“So, [name], I’m sorry but I gotta ask you something,” he spoke up after a short moment of silence, doing his best to continue to keep his tone as kind as possible, not wanting to scare you in any way, shape or form.

“Huh?” you replied, suddenly catching onto the idea that he might have wanted something from you, only just now registering that his hands were on you, too.

You were still trying to keep as soberly passing as you could be, but the strange mood and the new environment felt disorienting, even if you had already been in here before.

“You haven’t been with anyone, right?” he asked you as his eyes locked onto yours, the question he asked you seemed important to him for some reason. “You’ve not slept with anyone?”

Usually, he didn’t even care about this sort of thing—but something about you being being one was making him go crazy, in an almost possessive kind of way.

It felt wrong for him to admit it, but he felt entitled to you—not just for a quick fuck either, but something permanent.

He wanted you.

“Yes, but don’t laugh-“

“—I’m not asking to make fun of you.”

“Then why?”

He sighed as he looked back at you, wondering if it was best to just let you fall asleep or to take you back to your apartment and forget that this conversation almost ever happened.

But something told him to hold onto you, wanting to see just how far it could all go.

“I have a dilemma with you, that’s all it is,” he admitted, scooting a little towards you so that he sat closer. It was difficult for him to get the right words out as he had to find a reasonable way to explain that he didn’t want others to get close to you, to make you understand exactly what type of madness was going rampant through his head.

It was difficult to form something coherent that didn’t sound like he wanted to use you, because that wasn’t his intention at all.

“A dilemma?” you asked, your words slurring against your tongue.

“Don’t get with anyone else,” he asked you, the hold he had on your thigh seeming to tighten as he talked, his other hand pulling you closer as he dared tempt something he might regret, “it makes me unwell just thinking about it, I don’t even know why.”

Your words initially got caught in your throat as you failed to produce a response—even currently drunk, you understood what he was trying to imply.

And yet, not a single word could come out.

“Don’t hate me for saying it, but,” he sighed again, not letting you move let alone get away, “I want for you to allow me to…”

“No,” you finally choked out, not letting him finish off his sentence that he barely got to begin with. You understood what he wanted to ask you and you weren’t ready, even when this drunk, you knew that much.

Suguru stared at you as he took that rejection somehow in continued stride, fully well having anticipated that exact answer. He never once expected you to directly accept his offer, knowing that it would be insane for you to do so.

Instead, his plan was to actually ease you into it; to build up a gradual acceptance on your side, to get you close to him before anyone else could.

Dating was too slow—he wanted to get to you sooner, before you could catch onto what’s going on, before you could simply just leave.

It was wrong for him to do so, he knew it, but his own desire was overwhelming his sense of reason and he had to do it, or else he’d actually do something he regretted.

So to him, this was a more diluted path.

“Look, I’m the only one who really gets you, right? I’m the only one who can look out for you properly,” he continued to say, “and I’m the only one who would stick around with you after, [name], because let me make one thing abundantly clear—this world is cruel.”

You continued to zone out as he spewed out words he thought you were genuinely considering when the reality was that you were trying to keep yourself from passing out in his company.

You knew exactly where he was going with this, you weren’t that unaware and oblivious, his intentions were apparent from the very moment he put his hands on you in the car but you weren’t still entirely sure how he went from ignoring your texts from days on end, to wanting to get in bed with you.

Something must have happened last night, otherwise why else did he know to ask you certain things?

“I’m just saying, [name],” he said as he pinched your chin, making you face him directly, “Satoru got a taste, but he didn’t appreciate you, did he?”

“I-I mean n-no, but-“

“—did he make you feel anything?”

“He never meant to.”

“But don’t you want to feel something, anyway?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Because, I want you to feel things.”

He didn’t give you a whole lot to work with, nor any time to think for yourself as this conversation continued back and forth. His body continued to otherwise slowly towards you the same way, regardless of what you said, his lips seeking yours out as you moved back in retaliated discomfort.

Suguru continued to play the part of someone who appeared reasonable, nodding and pulling back to respect your decision. He was going to get to you either way, so your rejection didn’t hurt him because as long as he got with you before Satoru did, then he will have won.

He reconsidered his options as an almost unhinged expression manifested on his face, tightening his hold on your body as he surrendered to a flow of worrying ideas.

You internally panicked as this all unfolded, doing your best to perhaps foolishly hold onto his friendship while also pushing back on his advances, entering a point in your own psyche where you had no idea what you truly wanted either.

Certain words stuck, like Satoru stealing your first kiss and the fact that you felt nothing from it. Shoko got the title of your first real friend and Suguru sported the title of your first date, even if it was platonic. To circle back to Satoru, he had the honour of being the first guy you introduced to your parents; so no wonder it all seemed so confusing if he even liked you at all.

Your friends were out here taking away all of your firsts that were meant to be special moments shared with someone you could trust, instead being snatched away by this strange new group of people at every whim.

The lack of it all being genuine except for the friendship was starting to eat away at you, realising that such rapid progression was beginning to hurt you in a way you didn’t truly understand.

But… you were still left unsure.

Was he making such a big deal out of this because he actually cared—or did he simply want to play you, to get into your pants?

As you continued to hold off on his advances, he finally let you go of you to find your own way, intending to just vent to you instead. You’d listen to him whether you wanted to or not, so he took advantage of that opportunity as it happened.

“I’m just feeling some kind of way, [name],” he said, surrendering a chunk of his feelings.

He continued to stare at you, feeling a little guilty as he continued to do so—this damn feeling just wasn’t going away.

“I think I like you and I don’t want to share, that’s all.”

“I-I can kind of get it, I think,” you finally said after a while, giving him an opening of sorts if only by complete accident, “but,” you were to still quick to stifle, “I don’t want to do anything I might regret and that includes with you, too.”

He nodded as you spoke, completely understanding the exact sort of direction to take with you now much to your unassuming dismay; you were simply shy in his eyes, inexperienced and not quite used to this sort of thing and he could work with that—to make you his before anyone else could even have such a chance.

He wanted to stick around, to give into those strange and confusing feelings that have otherwise been eating him alive for the last couple of weeks.

“So, how about we start off slow?” Suguru suggested, moving into closing off the gap with you once again, “I don’t want you to regret a single thing with me.”

“I-I still don’t really know-“ you considered, not quite saying no directly. He wasn’t backing off even if he did drop the subject concerning your virginity, being pushy in a whole other sort of way.

“Don’t you like me too?” Sugur asked you, trying to find something that might not have been there.

“I-I do, but you know, as a frie-“

He cut you off again, not letting you finish that sentence, “Don’t say it. We’ve got something going on that’s better than just being friends.”

“W-we do?” you slurred a little.

“Can’t you feel it too?” he asked, leaning closer again.

“I mean, I don’t know, this is all too sudden for me and I don’t even know you that well,” you admitted, trying not to give into the pressure, you didn’t want to be something temporary or casual to someone you were trying to just be friends with.

“Then get to know me,” he whispered, “nobody else will appreciate you like I do.”

By then, you felt the booze hit your body a bit harder too now that it has had time to simmer; suddenly you couldn’t quite sit still, let alone agree or disagree.

He leaned into your lips without any protest on your end, despite your lacking consent to continue onwards; the smell of stale cigarettes exhaled into your mouth as he finally connected this kiss. His tongue pushing itself into your mouth, wrestling it with your own—your own muscle reluctantly following suit, despite not really knowing exactly what to do.

Your vision blurred as you barely kept up; you never did express consent nor give him the green light to continue, but every time you considered speaking up, your words would either slur or they never made it out of your mouth to begin with.

“Relax, you can keep your mouth still if it’s easier for you,” he said as he pulled back, his dark eyes intently focusing on you, “I’ll lead the way.”

Once again, he didn’t give you an opportunity to reply as he quickly resumed his pursuit of you; his mouth reconnecting with yours as his breath so hot and heavy rippled waves down your chin—his tongue flickering against the tip of your own as it fought back involuntarily, trying to move it away.

You felt as his hand then crept towards your own, grabbing onto the back of it as he slowly guided you into his trousers; straight past the waistband and slipping into an even deeper layer so that you could feel his, his—oh—were you feeling his—?

You froze as you now had a burning compulsion to pull away but your head pushed up against his face as his free hand held your skull in place—fingers weaving between interlocked strands of your hair, bringing you forward and tugging at your lips with his teeth, keeping you tethered to him.

Using the hand that held your own hostage, he moved you in so that your hand filled out with the length of his meat; your fingers wrapping around it as he then moved your hand up and down in a particular motion, encouraging you to keep up.

Maybe this was more than just taking it slow—but fuck, he was so turned on.

“Can you keep that going for me?” he asked, his voice sounding dangerously playful as he clearly was enjoying this moment.

You couldn’t vocally protest in the meantime nor shake or nod as he kept you subdued in a specific sort of state, so you kept it up either way because you were too overwhelmed to break away.

Not that he would allow for you to do so either way.

This was too good for him—he felt too good, so fucking good and he hadn’t even gone all the way yet. He wouldn’t yet. He knew now that he should savour this, to build it up.

He pulled further back from the kiss as your saliva trailed over your chin, webbing between his own—curious to see exactly how you were doing, realising that you might be struggling to keep up as someone with virtually zero experience with this sort of thing, while also wanting to get you used to this sort of state.

You continued to get into it and kept up to his requested pace along his shaft as he finally moved the hand that otherwise kept you glued to him to slip in between your legs, finally getting just a little further. He moved in smoothly, his hands brushing up the skirt and pushing past your underwear—his fingertips finally exploring the slick wetness you kept so well hidden.

To his amusement, he could see just how turned you actually were based on how soaked you were as well as the blush that formed on your face, even if your expression was a little unreadable.

In reality, you were equal parts confused and rosy red from the liquor settling in your system, keeping up but just barely.

You knew that this was wrong, that he never even asked you if this was okay to do, but you’ve also been so confused in this past couple of weeks.

You didn’t know what you were feeling.

“You’re doing so well, [name],” Suguru continued to purr into your ear, “wanna let me help you feel good too?”

“U-um,” you managed to reply, although still not using proper words.

“Trust me, I just want you to enjoy yourself,” he tried to reassure.

There it was; that confusing feeling again. You felt cornered as you considered accepting his quickly approaching advances, even given the position you were locked into. His hand rested near you, delicately parting you using his fingers—his touch was pleasant and warm and he wasn’t hurting you at all, but it still felt so terribly fucking wrong.

So, when he continued to once again move in despite not getting a verbal confirmation, he wrongfully read into your lacking say in the matter as a green light, thinking that because you weren’t screaming no or for him to stop despite your body language gesturing at something different was simply because you were shy.

Oh no, he didn’t even think to consider that you were simply too drunk to comprehend a single thing to begin with.

His fingers continued to slide into your heat, pushing over the opening and searching for something else in particular; your clit from what it felt like, focusing his efforts on there as his fingertips started to trace circles right around it.

Suguru enjoyed watching your reactions, his dark eyes finding light in your expressions and reactions—your own thighs quivering from his touch, trembling as you approached your limit.

He of course wanted to push you even further, wanting nothing more than to see you be needy and to moan his name; to beg him to let him fuck you, but he couldn’t be too greedy, at least not yet.

He’d slowly break you in, convinced that there was something about the chemistry that you both shared; feeling certain that there was absolutely something there, even if you couldn’t quite see it just yet.

So as he continued to gently swirl around your budded flesh and as your breathing quickly grew shallow; cheeks bruising cherry red, your insides coiling from his pressing touch—he too, got sent over the edge just from the sight of you alone.

At the same time though, that invading thought relented, daring him to go just a little further despite you not being ready; wanting nothing more than to taste your neck, to nip on your skin and petal behind lovebites, to push himself deep inside of you and feel just how soaked you were—but, but… he had to refrain, to hold himself back, at least for now, remembering that he didn’t want for you to regret him, so he finally pulled back from you.

His breath shuddered as you finished up on him, his face tightening as he clenched his jaw, eyelids fluttering as he started to finish, remembering to complete the same for you.

You squeezed your legs tight as you enveloped his hand, a rising need to finally seek out release; his circling motions finally coaxing out rolling pleasure as waves of warmth coursed through your body, a reaction that caused you to almost whimper breathlessly.

He pulled you closer as you finished, practically leaning into a hug against your body; his face rubbing against your own as he feverishly kissed you, his hand guiding yours as he finally got closer and closer to—but not yet, closer—to—

“Go a bit faster he breathed into your mouth, demanding release, “be a good girl for me—please, fuck.”

You listened to him as you accelerated the tempo against his dick; feeling a little more at ease from his continued flow of praise and encouragement until you felt his cock twitch, his breath hitch and finally empty himself at the mercy of your hand. Hot white ropes shooting without aim, causing a mess for you both.

He breathed in deep to recollect himself, still leaning against you before finally peeling himself away from you, allowing you to take back your hand and to find your ground again.

Guilt however then started to surface as he saw just how drunk you still were, leading him to finally seek out his own senses as he paused in his own tracks, leading you carefully to the bathroom before getting you cleaned up before returning back into bed with him.

There wasn’t a single chance in hell that you were going back home, even if he were to walk you all the way back and tucked you into bed himself.

He didn’t want a single person to be near you currently, not even Shoko and he trusted her.

So as you fell asleep beside him, your side occupying the usually vacant space against his chest, he felt a new sort of emotion plant itself and bloom, knowing that you were both in trouble if he continued to keep this up, just like that realisation many weeks ago.

Knowing fully well that he still wasn’t going to stop.

Not at all.

36 notes · View notes

eddiemunsons80sbaby · 2 days

Text

Hard Habit to Break

Chapter 2

Pairing: EddieMunsonxOriginalCharacter

Summary: When a chance at the career he always wanted came knocking at the same time that she received the worst news of her life, they were forced apart. Long distance, time on the road, and stories in the tabloids destroyed anything they had left, leading him down a dark road, playing the role of the bad boy rockstar his manager wanted from him. Now tragedy will bring him back to the town he swore to never step foot in again and face to face with her for the first time in years. Will he be able to stick to the plan or will she be the one habit he can't break?

Word Count: 5.6K

Trigger Warnings: Cancer battle, death of a parent, grief, addiction

18+ Only

Now

“Do they need anything else from her right now?”

“I don’t think so. What more could anybody possibly do right now, anyway?”

“Then we should get her home. She needs to get out of this place and get some rest. Tori? Tori?”

“Huh? What?” she mumbled, shaking herself from her stupor, shocked to find her best friend’s eyes so close to hers. The gray blue of a stormy sea, mirroring the feelings rushing through her right now. A tumultuous tempest that she couldn’t make sense of. Her hands were frantically reaching for purchase but finding none as she was tossed around on angry waves that were threatening to swallow her into the depths and drown her.

Robin was kneeling in front of her now, her jean covered knees pressed against the tile. She took both of Tori’s hands in hers, keeping her tethered to this space, this chair, this horrible stark white space that she wanted to escape. Everything was so bright, too bright, the glare of it hurting her already burning eyes, aching from exhaustion. She wanted to tunnel down into the floor beneath her feet and disappear, curled up in the Earth, becoming one with the dirt, just like her mother would soon. No more pain. No more grief. No more heartache. Only darkness and peace.

How was she supposed to do this? How was she supposed to face this world without the person who guided her through it? How was she supposed to go on motherless? No one to tell her she was doing it right or call her out when she was messing up. Isolated, alone, roaming aimlessly with no one to point her on the right path?

“Babe, are you okay?” Robin asked carefully, each word laced with deep concern. “Sorry. That’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not okay. Do you want to go home? You know, you don’t have to do anything else today. Nothing has to be decided right now. It might be better to wait until Lacy’s here so you can do it together.”

“Yeah. You should go home, get some rest, and deal with everything tomorrow. It’s been a hell of a day. Honey, it’s been a hell of a few years for you, especially these past six months. Maybe you need to take a break,” Nancy piped up from the chair next to her, her hand coming to rub what she clearly thought were soothing circles on Tori’s back.

Tori knew she meant well but her touch was anything but soothing. It just made her want to jump out of her skin, conjuring memories, flashes of her mom’s hands doing the same thing whenever she was sad.

The time she sat next to her on the bathroom floor all night in fifth grade when she had the stomach flu. Sophomore year when Jenny Simmons has been so mean to her, lying and telling everyone she’d made out with Eric Hoffman behind the bleachers. Junior year when she stormed in the door, sobbing, because she’d just had her first fight with her boyfriend. Five years ago when she’d had to watch that same boyfriend get on a plane and leave her behind. She had come home, barely able to talk, collapsing into a ball on the floor. A year later when she’d made the hardest decision of her life and her mom had held her for hours, rubbing her back as she released all of the pain that was shredding her from the inside, assuring her that it would all be okay.

Now nothing would ever be okay again. How could it? How much could she lose and still keep moving forward? How many pieces of her heart could be lost before it stopped beating altogether?

“I…uh…yeah…” she mumbled, her brain complete mush, as if someone had run it through a food processor, her thoughts minced into pieces she couldn’t fit back together. She was unable to think, unable to process, unable to do much of anything at the moment. “That’s a good idea, probably.”

“I know it is,” Nancy delicately told her, taking charge of the situation as usual. Her hand came to rest under Tori’s elbow, gently guiding her to her feet. “Let us drive you home and get you to bed, okay?”

“Lacy…I have to call…she needs to know…I have to tell her that…”

“I already took care of it,” Robin assured her, taking her other arm, her two friends slowly guiding her through the building and toward the door. She simply allowed it, too tired to argue, too broken to do it on her own. “I called her at school. She’s going to head home first thing in the morning, okay?”

Tori nodded, anything else felt like too much work. She should have been prepared for this. She’d been preparing for this eventuality for the last five years. It had been a certainty for the past six months but she still wasn’t ready. She would never have been ready to say goodbye, would never be ready to live in this world alone, a girl without a mom. That’s what she was now and it didn’t matter that she was twenty-eight, a grown adult who should be able to survive on her own. It wouldn’t have mattered if she was fifty-eight. She didn’t know how to do any of this without her mom. How do you say goodbye to someone who’s been with you your whole life?

Even now, she wanted to call her, to ask her what to do next, to fall apart in her arms and let her fix it the way she always fixed everything. But now it was up to her and Lacy was coming home tomorrow. She was going to be looking to her big sister to take care of everything, to take care of her. Tori could barely care for herself right now. How was she going to take care of anyone else?

It didn’t matter. She had to. She had to find the strength within her somehow. Her sister was going to need her to be the strong one, to handle everything, to step up and be what their mom no longer could.

Tori was only vaguely aware as they tucked her into the backseat of Nancy’s car, mumbling, “What about my car?”

“I called Dustin and he and Steve are going to drive over to the hospital to get it,” Robin told her as she slid into the passenger seat. “They’ll drive it back to your house for you, okay? You don’t have to worry about anything besides taking care of yourself right now. We’ve got you.”

Tori nodded, resting her forehead against the cool glass of the window. She was so tired, running on empty, nothing but fumes left in the tank. The last five years had been hard, the last six months had been awful, but the past month had been hell. Long hours sitting at the hospital, spending any time when she wasn’t at work sitting vigil by her mother’s bedside from the moment they told her it was the end. They couldn’t say how long or when but it was inevitable. There would be no more going home.

Her eyes slid closed, her body desperate to shut down, but horrific images of the last few hours flashed through her mind. The haunting sound of that endless tone that had signaled her life had been irrevocably changed. She snapped her eyes back open. No. She couldn’t relive it. It had been awful enough the first time.

“Did you call him?” asked Nancy, her hands held tightly at ten and two, forever the responsible driver no matter the circumstances.

Maybe she could just let Nancy handle everything. She was good at that, stepping up and taking charge. Maybe she could go to the funeral home tomorrow and make all the decisions, take care of Lacy, deal with her dad while Tori allowed herself to sink into blissful nothingness.

“I tried,” Robin answered with a shrug. “But you know how it is. He’s not exactly the easiest person to reach these days. He’s always busy or flying off somewhere. I left a message for him with his people.” Her tone took on a haughty air as she snorted. “He’s all Mr. Fancy Pants now. Barely has time for those peons he left back in Hawkins. Hopefully he gets it. I can try again tomorrow.”

“I mean…I know the circumstances are awkward and she doesn’t usually want us to say anything but he should know about this, right?” replied Nancy, her eyes glancing up to the rearview mirror, checking on Tori for a moment, before returning to the road. “He loved Linda, too and…”

“Yeah, I know.”

Their mindless chatter was nothing but background noise to Tori, an incessant buzzing in her skull that she couldn’t make sense of even if she tried. And quite honestly, she didn’t have the energy or the desire to make much of an effort at the moment. It didn’t matter what they were talking about. None of it mattered. How could anything possibly matter more than the catastrophic thing that had just happened?

Her eyes glazed over as the world blurred by outside her window. A couple holding hands as they strolled down the street together, a man walking his dog while bopping his head to whatever music was playing through his headphones, an employee on the sidewalk having a smoke break.

These simple moments of people just living their lives filled her with an irrational sense of rage. How dare they. How could the world just keep spinning as if nothing happened? How could these people just keep on living their lives as if something unspeakable hadn’t just happened? Why wasn’t everything stopping to acknowledge the tragedy? Why wasn’t it recognizing the awful loss that had occurred?

Nancy pulled into her driveway and the car went silent as she turned off the engine. Tori opened the door and made her way up to the porch mechanically. She grabbed the knob, turning it, but nothing happened. Tori stood, glaring at the door as if it had done something terribly wrong to her. Robin appeared at her side, dangling her keys from her fingers. She swiftly unlocked it and three of them headed inside.

Tori froze just inside the door at the sight of the hospital bed in the living room, the image sending new waves of grief crashing over her, threatening to pull her down under their swells. The entire room tipped and she reached out, instincts kicking in to grab onto something to stop the inevitable crash, when Nancy caught her around the waist, keeping her upright.

“Whoa there,” she said softly, brushing her hair back from her face. “I got you. It’s okay. Come on. Let’s get you upstairs, alright?” Her eyes turned to Robin, her head tilting toward the hospital bed.

Robin took the hint, heading in to pull the curtains around it that they had put up for her mom’s privacy. The hospital bed had become a necessity six months ago when her mom grew too weak to make it up the stairs anymore. Tori had taken to sleeping on the couch, wanting to be near in case she needed anything in the middle of the night. For the past month she’d slept on a cot in her hospital room. It felt wrong now to be heading upstairs to her room, to a bed she hadn’t slept in for months, even though there was no reason not to anymore.

“Did anyone call my dad?” she questioned quietly, not sure where the thought had come from, logic somehow breaking through the haze of grief for a moment.

“Lacy was going to do that, babe,” Robin assured her, somehow returning without Tori even noticing, the blond now on her other side. “Everything that needed to be done tonight has been taken care of and everything else can wait until tomorrow. All you need to do right now is get some rest, okay?”

Robin led her to the bed, holding her hands and sitting her down as Nancy rummaged in her drawers, finding Tori a pair of sweats and an oversized shirt. The two of them helped her, tugging off her clothes, lifting her limbs, pulling the pajamas on, as if she were a toddler who was incapable of independence. But that’s exactly how she felt right now. She was still just a little girl, a little girl who wanted her mom, who wanted the person who always took care of everything to come and take care of all of this because she didn’t want to. She hated the universe for forcing her to.

Tori glanced down at herself and frowned, some small part of her brain recognized the shirt she was wearing. It was a shirt she never wore, not anymore, because it was attached to another kind of pain, a different loss. It was a shirt that stayed tucked away in a drawer, hidden from sight but always there because she couldn’t bring herself to toss it.

Seeing it was always like having her heart torn from her chest all over again. But in this moment, not even that pain, the pain that was so unbearable she thought she’d never recover, the pain that was the worst she’d ever felt until tonight when she learned there was another level of hell, couldn’t break through. That awareness of what it meant couldn’t break through. She was already in agony and the last thing she gave a shit about was what she was wearing.

“Alright, how about we lay down now?” Nancy urged, lifting her feet and turning them toward the bed as Robin gently pressed down on her shoulders, her body sinking back into the mattress compliantly.

Robin pulled the blanket up over her, tucking it under her chin, and sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing her hair back from her face. She fought the urge to slap her friend’s hand away, illogical anger coursing through her at the gentle gesture that should have come from someone else.

“Just try to get some sleep, okay?” her friend urged. “Close your eyes and get some rest. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”

Tori’s eyes moved to her bedroom doorway at the sound of someone walking in the front door downstairs. Her brow furrowed in confusion, wondering who would be coming into her house at this time of night. But that was a silly thing to think because she realized she had no idea what time it even was.

“It’s just Steve and Dustin. They were bringing your car home for you, remember?” asked Nancy quietly, her hand sliding over Tori’s hair before cupping her cheek. “Just go to sleep, Tori. We’ll go down and take care of them.”

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded softly, her hand grabbing onto Robin’s, clutching it tightly. “Please? I just…I don’t want to be in the house all alone.”

“Never. We’ll be right here all night, okay?” her best friend assured with a squeeze of her hand. “And we will be here when you wake up.”

Tori murmured her understanding, the sleep she’d been fighting for hours finally winning its battle as her eyes closed, exhaustion taking over as she slipped into sweet oblivion.

___________________________________________________________

The plain, yet organized space, was a stark contrast to the messy, disheveled guy sitting on one of the dark leather couches. A large glass window that ran along the wall would allow any passers-by to see his agitation as his leg jiggled with frustration, fingers raking through his tangled waves. In the corner was a soundproof booth with thick padding to allow for maximum noise isolation but he didn’t need that when he had nothing to work with. Speakers and amps that sat silent, waiting for music that he couldn’t write.

“Son of a bitch,” muttered Eddie, yanking the pencil from behind his ear to scribble out lyrics he’d already written over twenty times.

This song was turning out to be a pain in his ass. Every single time he thought he had it, he would try to play it and it sounded all wrong. And it wasn’t just this song. It was any song. Something that used to be as natural to him as a river flowing downhill, following the natural curve of the Earth, had suddenly become impossible.

He chewed on the end of the pencil, metallic and rubbery in his mouth, eyes screwed tightly shut as his head moved to the beat, struggling to find the right words to lay down with it. The problem was, he didn’t even like the music. The intro was messy, the bridge was leading nobody anywhere, and the hook definitely wasn’t hooking anything. And the chorus? Forget it. Their fans would boo them right off the stage with the bullshit he’d been coming up with.

“Man, you’re going to give yourself an aneurysm if you don’t chill out,” Gareth teased as he entered the studio, dropping into a chair that sat in front of the control board. “It’s our time off, Eds. Give it a rest already.”

Eddie glared at his friend, “I can’t give it a rest. I can’t get this goddamn song to work. I can’t get anything to work. Everything I write is fucking wrong lately. It’s like I’ve lost my mojo or something.”

Gareth chuckled, shaking his head, “You haven’t lost anything, man. You’re just overworked. If we’re not on tour, you’re locked in the studio writing. If you’re not writing, then you’re making calls, figuring out the next show, always trying to make everything bigger and better than the last time. You never stop, man. I swear you never even sleep. Maybe your brain is trying to tell you to slow down. If I were you, I’d listen to it. We can’t have our frontman burnt out or all of this work is for nothing anyway.”

Eddie groaned, tossing the pencil onto the table with annoyance. It bounced and then hit the floor, rolling off and under the soundboard. For the last three months, he’d been having a block, finding himself incapable of writing anything that was worthy of another Corroded Coffin album. Every single time he tried, everything just came out absolute shit. He was close to losing his damn mind over it.

They were at the top of their game right now, the hottest metal band in the country. How were they going to stay on top if he couldn’t come up with any new material?

It happened to so many bands. They became an overnight sensation, sold out stadiums, records gone platinum, only to hit their peak then slide backward after a few years. Pushed to crank out albums quickly, the quality of the craft deteriorated as concern became about keeping up with demand and striking the iron while it was hot. All those people behind the scenes, pulling the strings, wanted to cash in on their payday. And if your band failed? So what? They had thousands just like you waiting in the wings for their six minutes of fame.

Fame was a fickle bitch and if a band didn’t constantly stay relevant, it could snuff out like damp fingertips suffocating a candle’s flame. Instantly and without remorse. Eddie couldn’t let that happen to Corroded Coffin. He wanted them to be one of those groups that stood the test of time, their albums still being bought and played long after they’d left this earth. He didn’t just want fame. He wanted immortality, a legacy he was proud to leave behind.

His body buzzed with nervous energy, needing something to take the edge off. Eddie pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at the already torn and flaking skin. He was always hearing it from Amanda, their make-up artist, when she had to buff all the dead skin off his lips and then slather them in Vaseline.

But not being able to do the one thing that he’d always been sure of, the only thing he knew he was good at, had him on edge. And the only thing that might help, he’d sworn off of, promised his friends he wouldn’t touch that shit again. He’d almost sent the band crashing and burning, torched everything they’d worked for and he couldn’t risk that again no matter how strong the urge was. He couldn’t just toss two years of being clean down the toilet because of some writer’s block.

“Eds, you’re starting to make me a bit nervous, man,” Gareth told him, angling his body toward him, elbows propped on his knees. He could see that look on his friend’s face, the look he hated, the one he’d worked so hard to keep off his face for the past couple years. “In fact, you’re making all of us nervous. You’ve been off lately. You’ve been real twitchy and moody. It’s bringing back memories, man, memories none of us want to relive. You’re not…”

“No,” Eddie snapped, his hand slamming against the table as he lurched to his feet. His fingers ran through his hair roughly, one of his chunky rings getting caught in the strands, pulling and causing him to wince. “No. I haven’t touched that shit, okay? I haven’t touched it since…that was different. I was in a really bad fucking place, man. I’m not in that place anymore. I dealt with all that shit in rehab and I am still dealing with it. I’ve got it under control. I’m just pissed off at myself. This is what I do, Gareth! I write and play music. If I can’t do that…what the hell else am I even good for?”

“That’s not true. Music is not the only thing you’re good for. Even if all of this ended tomorrow, you are so much more than just a rockstar, Ed,” Gareth assured, rising to his own feet, waving Eddie’s worries off as if they weren’t this giant monstrosity sitting in the middle of the room, keeping him up at night, causing him to chainsmoke until his throat was on fire. “Every writer goes through this shit, man. You really think you’re the first musician who struggled to write? Take a few days off. You can’t force it so give it a break. Do do something relaxing for a while. Get a room at The Biltmore. Chill by the pool and have a few drinks and get some damn sleep and maybe a little sun. You’re starting to look like the undead, my friend.”

“Thanks asshole,” he huffed, snorting with a roll of his eyes. You could always count on a friend to give you the brutal truth and Gareth was an expert at that. Of course Eddie needed that dose of reality from time to time. It was what kept him grounded. It was what kept him clean.

“I mean it. I say this with all love, man, but you gotta do something different. You’re looking less rockstar and more Dracula, and not in a sexy way. I mean, some chicks might be into that pasty, sunken eyes look but only if you can stay upright long enough. Call Gianna and see if she can meet you for the weekend. We don’t have to be in this damn studio for another two weeks. So, get the hell out of here and take advantage of the time off. They’ll have our noses back to the grindstone before you know it.”

Eddie considered his friend’s words. A weekend at The Biltmore didn’t sound half bad. He was drained, absolutely fatigued, running on nothing but black coffee and a dream. He’d been pushing himself hard for the last few months, harder than he ever had, angry that he couldn’t get one damn song right. Music was the only thing that kept him sane anymore. It was the only thing that mattered in his life anymore. Without it, he didn’t know who he was and that terrified the shit out of him.

He’d had more sleepless nights than he could count, his brain unable to quiet, desperate to find that next great song. That anthem that would have kids from California to Maine banging their heads, devil horns raised proudly. Maybe he did need a break, a chance to reset. Who knew? Maybe it would get his creative juices flowing again.

Inviting Gianna, now that part he wasn’t so sure about. The last time they’d talked she’d called him a selfish prick, told him to go to hell, and hung up on him. Eddie might not be the smartest guy in the room but he knew how to take a hint. Spending a weekend with him was probably the last thing she wanted to do. Whatever. It was only a matter of time, anyway. He’d known this was coming because it always did. None of them ever lasted.

He hadn’t had a relationship last longer than a couple months since…nope. He shut that thought process down, a door slamming in his brain. That was the name they didn’t speak. The name he did not allow his brain to even think. That name always led to pain, pain that led to…other things. Things he was trying to stay away from. Things he swore to the guys he wouldn’t touch again and he intended to keep that promise. So that name stayed locked up tight where it belonged.

Fingers snapped in his face, jerking him from his thoughts. Gareth stood in front of him, brows meeting in concern. “Hey man, you still with me?”

“Yeah.” He laughed hollowly, shaking his head. “Sorry. I guess I must be even more tired than I thought. I was just thinking that maybe you’re onto something. Maybe I do need to take a break. Maybe I’ll even make it a whole week instead of a weekend. Sleep until noon, order some room service, watch some crappy movies, lay in the sun so I can stop looking like Nosferatu….recharge my battery, you know?”

“There you go!” Gareth exclaimed happily, clapping him on the back. “So you thinking just a solo trip or inviting your girl?”

Eddie snorted, “I’m going solo on this one. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s not my girl anymore.”

Sighing, his friend gave him the look, the look Eddie had received more times than he could count, especially these last few years. He squeezed Eddie’s shoulder and he knew what was coming but he really didn’t want to hear it again. He knew he was hopeless when it came to relationships. He knew he sabotaged every single one but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. No matter what the guys said, it didn’t make a difference, and it just pissed him off that they felt the need to keep harping on something that wasn’t going to change.

“Eds, you’ve got to stop chasing every single damn girl away,” Gareth groaned. “It’s been years, my friends. Years with an ‘s’, meaning plural. You’ve got to move on at some point. It’s like you think you don’t deserve to be happy but you do. I swear to you, you do. You know she wouldn’t want this for you. She’d hate to see you doing this to yourself. You say you’ve let go and moved on but it sure as hell doesn’t seem like it. I don’t know if you’re still holding out hope that one day Tor…”

Eddie’s hand slapped over his friend’s mouth, cutting him off before he could finish her name. Gareth knew the rules. They all knew the rules. He’d been very explicit about the rules with every single one of them. The rules were in place for a reason and saying that name was the number one no-no. Gareth knew what hearing that name did to him. His friend shoved his hand away, rolling his eyes.

“Fine, you’re holding out hope that one day the person we don’t name is going to suddenly show up and want you back but it’s not going to happen. You guys broke up four years ago, Eds. You can’t keep destroying every single relationship you have because you’re still waiting for the one we don’t talk about. I know you hoped that one day things would be different and…that unnamed person would come find you but it’s not happening, man. You two haven’t even spoken in four years. Don’t you think it’s time to move on? I’m betting she has.”

“Hey, Eddie!” called his manager, Arty, as he walked in. “I’ve been looking all over for you. What the hell are you doing in the studio, kid? Did you miss the memo that you’ve got two weeks off? You should be out living it up and enjoying your break because I am going to work the hell out of you guys when it’s over. The fans are anxious for the third album. We gotta keep the fires burning red hot, you know. Anyway, we got a message for you. Usually, we ignore that shit because it's just fans trying to find a way in, but this one sounded like it might be legit so I wanted to double check. It was from someone called Robin.”

One simple word, two syllables, a name, and he was spiraling. Jesus, had they known him and Gareth had been talking about her? Was the universe playing some perverse trick on him? His stomach twisted, muscles tensed, the wrench spinning and spinning around the bolts that held him together until he was twisted so tight he couldn’t move. Everything went rigid, strained to its maximum threshold, ready to snap under the slightest pressure.

The blood whooshed through his head like a tidal wave, pounding in his ears, behind his eyes. Eddie’s hand came down on the table, propping himself up, knowing he had to find out what the message was even if it had the potential to destroy him. There was only one possible reason that Robin would even bother to try to reach him after the last conversation they had.

“She said…” Arty paused, bringing the yellow notepad closer to his aging eyes, unaware of how tightly Eddie’s hand had wrapped around the edge of the table. “Tori’s mom passed away a few hours ago and she felt like you should know. They haven’t made any arrangements yet but she left a number for you to call her back if you want to know the details.”

Arty held out the slip of paper proudly, smiling like he’d just done Eddie some massive favor. The man had no idea what he’d just done. He’d taken over their management almost three years ago once they got too big for the guy they’d had before. When playing smaller venues turned into massive arenas, Todd could no longer handle it. He was more of a small time guy. That was when Arty swooped in, a guy who’d worked with some of the biggest names in the industry when they started to take off. That was his specialty, not getting you to the top but helping you stay there once you’d reached it.

He knew about Eddie’s substance abuse issues, but he never knew why he’d first touched the stuff. He didn’t know why the idea of forgetting everything, of not being in control of his own faculties, of just allowing himself to get swept under the bad boy rockstar image had been so appealing to him. But Arty had been the one to kick his ass and get him into rehab, telling him he was going to destroy everything, that he was a ticking time bomb sitting in the center of the band, that was going to explode and decimate it all if he didn’t get his shit together. He’d seen bigger bands than them fall apart over the same shit.

Eddie’s eyes darted over to Gareth’s, his best friend since they were kids, the one who understood exactly what this meant, how this news was causing him to spin out of control like a car careening on the highway. That careful wall he’d built around anything that had to do with her was crumbling apart around him, massive chunks tumbling and smashing to the ground to expose everything he worked so hard to conceal.

Gareth stepped forward, taking the paper from his hands, looking down at the hastily scrawled set of numbers as if Robin herself were going to leap off the page. He looked back up at Eddie, eyes wide.

“Vacation plans changed?” he asked knowingly and Eddie didn’t miss the flash of fear in his friend’s eyes, the way his jaw stiffened into granite. He knew exactly how hard it would be if Eddie made this choice. He knew what the potential fallout could be. But he was going to have to take the risk because what other choice did he have?

“I guess my vacation time is going to be spent in Hawkins…” Eddie murmured, eyes falling back to the paper again, his brain struggling to catch up with the decision he’d just made, the repercussions of what he was about to do.

“Hawkins? Where the hell is Hawkins?” Arty asked with a snort. “Sounds like some podunk town if I ever heard one.”

Eddie lifted one eyebrow along with a shoulder. “That’s exactly what it is. Some podunk town in Indiana.”

“So, what the hell is in Hawkins that’s got you spending your precious time off there?”

“Everything,” he whispered, snatching the paper back from Gareth and striding out of the room.

Here it is! Hope you all enjoy. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts. I am forever trying to better my writing so feedback is always welcome and reblogs are always appreciated. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. And if you do, please make sure your age is on your profile. I will not add if it's not.

Taglist: @browneyes528 @chevelle724 @tlclick73 @transparentenemypenguin @missmarch-99

21 notes · View notes

mrs-russ · 3 days

Text

ch 3 & 4 of roommate!keegan because i said so

words: 1.7k

reading time: 6:06

full fic

ch 3

me and my friend sam arrive at the club, his dark brown eyes zeroing in on the bar as we park nearby.

“you ready for some fun?” he says, shooting me a smile. i smile back, and i can’t help but get excited.

“yeah, maybe meet some hot dudes” i say, my lips curling into a smirk as i look at him. “you’ve been single for long enough”

“you know i’m not looking for any guys. i’m simply just trying to take your mind off of that douche you say is hot. i know he’s been a pain in your ass.”

“yeah, he has been. did i mention he’s about 36 and acts like that?”

“wowza” sam says, his choice of words making me laugh slightly.

we get out of the car and make our way into the club, the music loud and the lights almost blinding. “jesus, this is different from the other clubs i’ve been to” i say as i look at sam, his eyes scanning the area for a quieter place. everyone is everywhere, and it’s a little overwhelming, but we always manage.

we find a spot on the right side, near the bar. i order drinks but sam doesn’t, he’s the driver for tonight.

“so, tell me, what’s keegan got you all worked up about?” sam asks, his eyebrows raising as he sips his water.

i think to myself before responding “i don’t know, really… i’m starting to think i’m going crazy” i look at him slight askew.

“so it’s not just his body?” sam teases, my eyes narrowing playfully.

“no, not just his body. he’s got something about him, something just i can’t place my finger on.”

“well, let me list a few things. he’s dependent on you, he’s turning into an alcoholic, he’s lazy, messy, and he acts like a dick. which one of those do you prefer?”

i can’t help but smile, my hand covering my mouth subtly in an attempt to embarrassingly hide it.

“is it bad all those things are… oddly attractive?” i joke, my eyebrows raising in mock seriousness.

“do you need therapy?” sam asks playfully, taking a gulp of his drink.

“pretty sure i do” i respond in the same manner. me and sam have always gotten along, and he always finds ways to cheer me up.

“alright, enough about him, let’s dance” sam says, pulling me up from my seat.

i protest, but it’s to no avail against sam’s wrath, already in the middle of the dance floor before i can think about it.

“come on, loosen up, maybe find you a man tonight” he says, looking at me with a grin.

“sure as hell not taking him to my place” i say with a chuckle, the alcohol making me feel lighter as me and sam dance together, the thought of keegan successfully out of my mind.

soon enough i’ve had a little too many, and i’m grinding against a man i’ve never met, his hands on my body.

“how are you, pretty girl?” he murmurs in my ear, his breath tickling me.

“better now that your here” i say seductively, turning around to get a better look at him.

he’s a tall, handsome man with brown hair. his eyes the shape of an almond, and his lips just as big. he has a dimple on his right cheek when he smiles.

“glad to hear that” he says, and i shoot sam a subtle glance from across the room. he gives me a thumbs up, urging me on.

“so, handsome, what are your plans for the night?” i ask, my eyes looking up into his as i bite my lip.

“hm, well. it consists of me and you. if your interested of course.” he breathes out, and i giggle.

“sounds perfect to me” i reply, my body still moving against his.

“come over to mine” he whispers with his hands on my hips, making my body shiver “you won’t regret it”

goosebumps form on my skin, and i smile intently.

“lead the way”

ch4

i woke up with a terrible fucking headache this morning, all the drinking i did last night really kicking me in the ass. i’m not usually like this, i don’t drink a lot. but sometimes a man needs a break.

i know it’s a shitty excuse, even for me. i was in the military for years until i got discharged. PTSD they said, i wasn’t able to function on the battlefield anymore. shit sucked, but i had to suck it up.

now im here, acting like i dont give a shit about the person that’s basically helped me through it all. her actions don’t go unnoticed, but i pretend they don’t effect me, i just act like the same stoic asshole i was on the field, but god knows that’s anything but the truth.

i get pulled from my thoughts, the sound of a coffee machine bringing me back. it’s her just getting her morning coffee, a routine she’s had for who knows how long before we met.

i didn’t sleep, my mind consumed by her and the way i treated her. how could i be so stupid? i don’t want her to think im using her, but it damn well looks like it after the way i acted a few hours ago.

i’m embarrassed of myself. i’m dependent on her, becoming an alcoholic, lazy, messy, and i act like a total dick. i want to say sorry, but all i can do is hope she forgets about it.

i listen through my door to the living room for her, nothing but quietness greeting me. she must’ve fallen asleep.

i make my way out of my room quietly, looking at her as her feet are perched up on the coffee table. she always told me not to do that, but i never listened. guess she’s taking on my laziness now.

i watch her as she sleeps, moving closer to get a better look at her peaceful features.

she looks exhausted, and im the one to thank for that.

i kneel down in front of her, my rough hand reaching out to touch her delicate cheek. i wonder how she’d feel against me.

i push those thoughts aside, standing back up and retreating to my room. i know i have to wait, that time will only tell how this will go, but im hoping it turns out how i want it to.

i don’t realize how long ive been caught in my half sober thoughts until i hear the sound of her getting up. i look at the clock, realizing i need to get up or id rot in bed all day.

i make my way out of my room groaning, seeing her looking at me expectantly. her eyes almost pull me into a trance, and i quickly look away. “stop looking at me like that” i say, the words coming out ruder then expected.

she looks away quickly, grabbing something from the fridge and retreating to her room.

i stand in the kitchen as her door closes, my hand rubbing the back of my neck. i need to get my shit together.

after eating a bowl of cereal, i make my way back to my room, realizing i need to freshen up.

thank god we have separate bathrooms, that would just make everything worse.

i grab my phone and enter the bathroom, turning on the shower to a decent temp before getting in, washing away all my sorrows like a pitiful man.

and to think i was in the military, im weak now.

i quickly finish up my shower, as to not waste water, but as i move to dry off i realize i forgot my towel.

“fuck” i say to myself, thinking of a solution.

i pick up my phone and text her, “i forgot a towel, bring me one?”

i hear her getting up and grabbing a towel from her bathroom, opening the door to my room before making her way to the bathroom door, knocking on it.

“here” she says, my her hand reaching inside the bathroom, holding the towel.

i take the towel and wrap it around my waist, hearing her speak again.

“not even a thanks?” i smile to myself.

“yeah, thanks.” i say blandly, stepping out of the bathroom shortly after.

i expect her to turn around and walk away as i step out. but her reaction has me a little confused.

her eyes scan my body from head to toe, lingering on my tattoos and faint abs that i’ve let go on trying to maintain.

her eyes linger on the towel next, and i smirk at her, my arms crossing over my chest.

the action seems to snap her from her little world, her head turning away.

“ah, sorry” she mumbles, making her way out of the room quickly.

who knows? maybe this will go my way, after all.

i hear her giggling in her room, my mind wondering the possibilities of who or what it could be.

my thoughts get interrupted by a message on my phone, one of my friends i haven’t talked to in a while asking me if i want to catch up at a new club downtown.

knowing me right now, that’s the worst thing i could possibly do. surrounded by potential mistakes and alcohol that i have too much money to spend on. but im not complaining, who else is gonna spend it? and plus, a night out would be good for my head.

i text him back, my thumbs moving across my screen as i quickly type out “sure, man. sounds like fun to me. i’ll meet you at 10?”

i send the message, waiting for him to reply back.

i hope tonight is interesting enough.

i feel like my retinas are tired of watching tv all day, and i know i’m tired of it, my body catching up to me the more i lie around and do nothing.

i really need to start working out again.

he responds back as im in my thoughts, the message reading “sure, see you there! it’ll be fun, i promise.”

i place my phone down, rubbing my face.

fun, that word has basically lost meaning to me. but something inside me makes me feel like not all hope is gone.

please don’t flame me this is my first fic 🥲

#call of dooty #call of duty #call of duty keegan #cod keegan #keegan cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #keegan p russ #keegan x you #keegan russ x reader

17 notes · View notes

from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 2 days

Text

Wednesdays mean a new chapter of Wídfara and Guthláf!

Part 5 of 8, in which Wíd gets a glimpse of what it’s like to lose Guthláf, and it helps him make a big decision. Thank you to the small but mighty crew who support this story—I deeply appreciate all of you!

Catch up on previous parts here: One. Two. Three. Four.

Wídfara was back in the stables again early the next morning, having spent the hours since his confrontation with Guthláf in tortured sleeplessness. Maybe we just shouldn’t be together. His own words echoed in his ears, so foolish and so hasty. He wanted nothing more than to take them back, to undo everything about the night before. And yet, he wasn’t sure there was any better outcome.

If he did as Guthláf wanted, he was sentencing himself to a life lived in abject fear of a tragedy he felt certain was coming. But if he managed to impose his will on Guthláf instead, their relationship would be forever poisoned by the acrid taste of resentment. Even worse, he ran the risk that the Guthláf who remained would no longer be the same man Wídfara had fallen in love with, that some irreplaceable part of him might die along with his discarded dreams. No matter what he did, he seemed destined to lose Guthláf somehow, and his aching sorrow was mixed with a heavy dose of grievance toward a world that was giving him only impossible choices. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew that he needed to talk to Guthláf again. Things couldn’t end as they had last night.

As more men arrived to prepare for the day, Wídfara withdrew into himself, taking up menial tasks – changing out bedding, refilling feeders, polishing tack – to keep his hands busy while his mind struggled to work out his thoughts. Ordinarily, these simple barn chores would be his novice’s work, but Freogan seemed to intuit from just a glance at his face that this was not an ordinary day. He gave Wídfara a wide berth and posted himself a short distance down the aisle, where he could quietly discourage others from unnecessary disruptions.

Even Freogan’s dutiful attentions, though, could not stop the eventual inquiries that came when Guthláf’s continuing absence began to draw notice in the stable. Several of the senior men of the éored came to Cypren’s stall to ask Wídfara if he had yet seen his friend that morning, and he was forced to shrug off those inquiries, feigning ignorance as to Guthláf’s doings since leaving the tavern. But amidst his bitter sadness and confusion, a chord of worry now also sounded in the back of his mind. Guthláf was never late and rarely alone, and yet now he seemed to be both at once. Wídfara couldn’t help but worry about what this unusual behavior might mean.

It wasn’t until an hour after the start of training that Guthláf finally appeared, and his arrival did nothing to assuage Wídfara’s concerns. He had never seen Guthláf as he looked that morning — dark circles under his eyes, pale, listless and with none of his usual spark or good-natured easiness. He walked slowly and with an awkward remove from his surroundings, as though his body was present but his spirit was elsewhere. He ignored the teasing innuendo of friends about overindulgence in either drink or women, and he silently accepted a reprimand for tardiness from Déorwine before mounting his horse and taking his place in the ranks. But while others soon went back to business as usual, it remained painfully obvious to Wídfara that Guthláf was not alright. His riding was sloppy, he was frequently out of position, and his reactions to the movements of others were delayed.

Widfara watched him carefully from the periphery of his vision, one eye always on Guthláf even as he followed commands and executed his own drills. When they lined up to practice defensive tactics, with some riders occupying the roles of hypothetical enemies, Wídfara could see right away that Guthláf was out of position again, leaving himself dangerously exposed. Elfhelm saw it, too, and called out for an adjustment as the drill began, but it was too late – Herubrand, in one of the enemy positions, easily knocked Guthláf from his saddle, and his helmet, poorly secured, slid off as well. Far closer than he should have been to the adjoining paddock fence, his head struck a wooden rail with a sickening crack on his way to the ground.

All organized action came to an immediate halt as men rushed toward Guthláf from all directions, but no one got there faster than Wídfara, who was off his horse and across the open distance before much closer men had even been able to dismount. He skidded to his knees at Guthláf’s side and felt his own heart stop at the sight of a halo of bright red blood quickly pooling in the dirt behind Guthláf’s head.

“Guthláf? Can you hear me?” He patted Guthláf’s cheek a few times, but his eyes remained closed and he didn’t stir even as Syndrigan nosed heavily at his shoulder. With trembling fingers, Wídfara reached down to check his pulse and let out a shuddering sigh of relief when he found a faint but steady beat.

“Get on his horse, Wídfara. Now.” Elfhelm had elbowed his way into the tight circle that had formed around Guthláf’s crumpled body and taken in the circumstances in a quick glance.

“What?” Wídfara looked up, wild eyed at the thought of being sent away from Guthláf in this moment.

“Get in the saddle and we’ll hand him up to you. You’ll get over to the healers much faster by horse than trying to carry him yourself.”

Wídfara jumped up and pulled himself onto Syndrigan’s back. She stomped a foot and shook her head in agitation at bearing an unfamiliar rider but calmed as soon as Herubrand, Elfhelm and a few others lifted Guthláf up and set him in front of Wídfara, his limp body leaned back onto Wídfara’s chest and shoulder. He clasped an arm across Guthláf’s middle, gave Syndrigan a nudge and rode off to the healers as fast as she would carry them. A horn was sounded behind him, the notice to the healers of an incoming injury, and by the time he arrived at the right building, several men waited out front, ready to carry Guthláf inside.

The next hours were the longest and most desperate Wídfara had ever known. The healers whisked Guthláf away from him before he could protest, and they blocked him from entering the room where they worked to treat the injury. Once again, Wídfara found himself standing in a hallway, listening to the appalling sounds of distress drift out to him from behind a closed door. Groaning and vomiting as Guthláf regained consciousness. Raised, urgent voices speaking short, barked commands. Cries of pain. He paced a dogged path back and forth in front of the room, certain that he would wear a groove into the stone floor if he was kept outside much longer, and his entire body thrummed with frantic energy, the charged sting of panic. He clung to the very edge of his sanity and felt even that slipping from his grasp when, at last, the door opened and a woman in a bloodstained apron emerged. Wídfara nearly tackled her in his fervor to hear news.

“There is a break in his skull,” the woman said, “but it’s a relatively clean break. The external wound is now sewn closed and we are satisfied that there will be no critical swelling. He needs a lot of rest, but the bone should heal on its own over the next few weeks. You can go in, but he’s been heavily dosed for his pain and won’t wake up for several hours.”

The sudden easing of Wídfara’s fevered anxiety was so strong that he almost lost his balance, and he slumped back against the wall for support. “Thank you,” he managed to rasp out. “Will you please send an update to Marshal Elfhelm as soon as you can?”

“Of course. And someone will be back to check on him regularly.”

Wídfara let himself into the room as the remaining healers went out, and he looked down at Guthláf’s still, fragile form, sleeping curled on his side with drying, rust-colored blood matted through the back of his hair. Out of sight of others at last, he finally allowed himself to cry, the tears that had brimmed his lashes for hours now spilling at last down his cheeks. Through those tears, he took a clean cloth left by a water basin in the corner and tenderly washed away as much smeared blood as he could from Guthláf’s face, throat and hands. When he was finished, he sat quietly in a chair at the side of the bed and gratefully studied all the little signs of life he could discern – the slow rise and fall of Guthláf’s chest, the minute movements of his eyes behind his closed eyelids, the faint pulsing in a vein at his temple as his heart did its work.

Minutes slipped by, and then hours, and Wídfara sat silently, interrupted only by the woman in the apron, who came in every hour to briefly check on Guthláf’s condition.

When it began to grow dark outside, Wídfara rose to light a lamp, and just as he sat back down again, Guthláf stirred at last. His eyes slowly opened, unfocused and with the black of his pupils so large that the light blue surrounding them was almost entirely obscured. The eyes searched around, disoriented, but when they landed on Wídfara, they stayed there.

“What time is it?” The question came out as a hoarse whisper, the words slightly slurred.

“It’s getting late,” answered Wídfara. “But that doesn’t matter. There’s nowhere else you need to be.”

Guthláf’s eyes traveled from Wídfara’s face down to his chest and shoulders, where his shirt was soaked in blood from the ride to the healers. “Did someone hurt you? Whose blood is that?”

“It’s yours,” he said gently. “There’s been an accident. But don’t worry. You’re alright now. You’re going to be alright.” Tears flooded back to his eyes, and he choked down a sob.

One of Guthláf’s hands slid across the bed and grasped Wídfara’s, the grip weak but determined. Wídfara held onto it tightly, so desperately grateful for the gesture that in that moment he didn’t even care if the healer walked back in to discover them this way. He held Guthláf’s hand as his eyes drifted closed again and for long minutes after, but just as he decided that Guthláf had fallen back to sleep, his eyes fluttered open once more.

“Wíd?”

“Yes?”

“I love you, too. I should have said that yesterday, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m the one who is sorry.” Wídfara raised Guthláf’s hand and pressed it quickly to his lips. “We can talk about it all later, but now you need to rest. I’ll still be right here when you wake up.”

Wídfara was there when Guthláf next woke, but he wasn’t able to maintain his hold on the seat by the bed for long. As they always did when there was a major injury or illness, the éored posted a rotation of men to Guthláf’s sick room, each taking six hour shifts to either watch over him while he rested or, as his strength returned and his head cleared, to keep him company while still confined to bed. After the blur of that first evening, Wídfara had been forced to yield to procedure, allowing Brunloc to take his place early the next morning. What’s more, the presence now of others forced him to stifle any excess emotion or expression that might expose to others the true depth of his feelings. As a result, the most he could manage over the week that Guthláf was in the healers’ care was to drop by for short visits, always in the company of the many others who lined up for the chance to sit with a beloved friend.

The weight of their fight in the stable still sat between them, unresolved. Every hint of Wídfara’s anger and resentment had washed away cleanly in the flood of his panic and then relief after the accident, but his fears were as potent as ever, if not even further heightened now. His frustration at being unable to address them was tempered only by his relief at Guthláf’s continuing improvement, which allowed him to maintain a basic semblance of calm as he went about his daily routines – attending to duties, adding regularly to the pile of small offerings to Béma that sprang up outside of Guthláf’s room, and taking care of Slaga, Guthláf’s dog.

It wasn’t until Guthláf was finally released back to the barracks for another few weeks of general rest and recovery that the opportunity to be alone again returned. On the day of his release, Wídfara went to the central market, buying up all of Guthláf’s favorite things – plums and honey sweets and walnuts and spice cake and anything else he could find that would bring a smile to Guthláf’s face and show him how much he was loved, fight or no fight. It was far more than he could have afforded on his own, but the old women at the market stalls always doted on Guthláf when he came by each weekend and they loaded Wídfara with extras when they found out who he was shopping for.

He stopped off on his way back to pick up Slaga and headed eagerly to Guthláf’s room. He arrived at the door just as Guthláf himself came slowly down the hall from the communal baths, a towel around his waist and a steadying hand on the wall. The sight of him filled Wídfara’s heart with both warm relief and the sharp bite of concern.

“Should you be walking around by yourself?” Wídfara shifted the bag in his arms so that he could put a supporting hand under Guthláf’s elbow.

“Maybe not, but after a solid week trapped in that bed and not even able to take a piss without three people watching, it was nice to get washed on my own for a change.”

“Oh.” A sudden nervousness gripped Wídfara. Maybe it had been presumptuous of him to assume that Guthláf would be ready to talk to him now or would even want to. “I can just drop this off if you’d rather be alone for a while…”

Guthláf glanced quickly around the empty hallway before moving his hand from the wall to Wídfara’s arm. “No. I’ve missed you, and I want you to stay.” He eyed the bag in Wídfara’s other arm and smiled. “And I’m not just saying that because you’ve brought gifts.”

They went inside and Guthláf spent a few happy minutes fussing over Slaga, who was positively vibrating with joy to be back in the crook of his arm, and sorting through the bounty Wídfara had brought him. He tasted a little of everything as he pulled each item from the bag with a delighted exclamation, and he insisted that Wídfara share in his own gift, giving him generous portions of all the best treats. Wídfara was grateful to see that both Guthláf’s appetite and manner seemed normal, though his movements remained slow and hesitant.

After receiving many profuse thanks, Wídfara held Guthláf’s arm again as he stepped gingerly into his trousers, tossing the towel to a corner of the room. Before he picked up a shirt, though, he gestured to his hair and the brush that sat on a small table beside his bed.

“Could you help me with this, too, Wíd? I can’t see the back of my own head, and I don’t want to snag my stitches.”

“Of course.”

Guthláf carefully lowered himself to the ground, sitting between Wídfara’s knees, and leaned back with a sigh as Slaga curled up contentedly in his lap. Wídfara raised the brush to begin his work, but his hand faltered at the first sight of the many small loops of thread that cut across the back of Guthláf’s skull and the inky black bruising, easily visible through the light blonde of his hair, that still spread all across his head and down his neck, where it slowly faded first into dark purple, then blue and finally a greenish-yellow. The sense of calm that Wídfara had worked so hard to maintain over the past week dissolved in an instant, and every word he had planned to say vanished from his mind just as quickly, leaving behind only the bitter taste of fear in the back of his throat.

When he heard Wídfara’s breath hitch, Guthláf reached back to squeeze his leg. “It’s alright. It’s not as bad as I’m sure it looks, and it feels better every day. In a few weeks time, it’ll be fine, and everything will be back to normal again.”

Back to normal. His words were meant to be comforting, but they terrified Wídfara instead. Because he wasn’t sure that he saw a way back to normal. If Guthláf could really put all this behind him – wait for his physical wounds to heal and then just move on – what would happen if Wídfara simply couldn’t? How could they ever be together if Guthláf moved steadily forward and Wídfara languished where he was, an eternal prisoner of his own dread? He dropped the brush to his lap and covered his face with his hand. “But how?” The words came out with a pleading tone that embarrassed him, but he was helpless to control it. “Every time I close my eyes, I see your head hit that rail and my heart is in my throat all over again. I’m not sure that terror will ever leave me, and the idea of maybe living through that again each time you’re out there with the banner, where you’ll be defenseless and exposed and targeted…I can’t face it.”

Guthláf set Slaga aside and hoisted himself up to sit next to Wídfara on the bed. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, pulling Wídfara’s hand from his face to look into his eyes. “I really am. And I understand how you feel. I worry about you, too, you know. That’s what happens when you love someone. Your own happiness gets tied up in their well being, and that’s always going to be risky. Because we don’t get any say in how much time we have with anyone else.”

His hand trailed absently across the scars on his chest, and after a moment’s silence, he looked back to Wídfara with a sad smile. “Trust me on this, Wíd. You can run yourself ragged trying to change the past or control the future. You can even force me out of achieving my dream if you really want to. But sometimes a candle is going to catch on a bedsheet in a neighbor’s house on a windy night, and no amount of fear or precaution will stop everything you’ve ever known and loved from going up in flames. So you’ve just got to make use of the time you’re given before anything like that happens. Enjoy what you have while you have it, and don’t let regrets or worries take it away from you any earlier than necessary.”

Wídfara heard the wisdom of those words, coming from one much better acquainted with tragedy, and he was humbled, as always, to contemplate the strength that Guthláf needed to live his life with optimism and spirit despite that tragedy. But Wídfara had never been tested that way and still doubted that a similar strength was in him. “I…I don’t know if I can.”

Guthláf squeezed his hand. “I’m asking you to try. And I know that’s no small thing, but I wouldn’t ask it of you if I thought you couldn’t do it. You’re much stronger than you give yourself credit for, and I promise that I’ll do what I can to help. And if it turns out that you never can bear it, then…I don’t know. I guess we’ll deal with that when it comes. But I need you to try first. Please. For me.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to Wídfara’s, once, twice and then a third time before Wídfara caught hold of him and didn’t let go.

Whatever dark uncertainties plagued him, the one thing he knew to be true was that this was where he wanted to be. In Guthláf’s arms again, he felt his defenses and objections begin to relent, thinning like river ice in the first sun of spring and then giving way entirely under its spreading warmth. If he had to swallow his fears for his heart to get what it wanted — to get this — then he would try his hardest. He couldn’t just walk away from everything that was good in his life. If the last week had made anything clear to him, it was that the only thing worse than losing Guthláf later would be to lose him now.

“I will,” he said. “I’ll try for you. For us.”

Guthláf answered by kissing him again, and Wídfara fairly melted into the embrace, savoring every element – the pleasing roughness of his beard, the warmth of his breath, the scent of his skin. All the things he had missed so desperately since everything had first gone wrong.

He would have been content for that kiss to last forever, but he didn’t want to overtax his patient and so he lay back on the bed with Guthláf beside him. For a time they talked of other things, seeking respite from the high emotions of recent days by gingerly turning instead to the lightness of gossip Guthláf had picked up from those who sat at his sick bed or a recounting of how many pairs of Wídfara’s boot laces Slaga had chewed through while staying with him. Eventually Guthláf, still easily tired from even small exertions, began to show his fatigue, and Wídfara encouraged him to sleep. When he had drifted off, a cheek resting comfortably on Wídfara’s chest, Wídfara kissed his forehead and lay quietly, staring up at the ceiling in aimless thought.

From the hallway, he could hear the faint voices of men, friends being summoned or someone’s whereabouts sought. It reminded Wídfara of his youth in the plains, when his cousins would call to him and to each other from their places at far ends of the herd. Back when his life was basic and uncomplicated, and everything he feared was just the standard fare of childhood. The low rumble of thunder in the dark. The shadowy specter of a wolf prowling around in his dreams.

Back then, his mother would sit by him in the night, hold his hand and tell him to find one small thing to focus on very hard, something that brought him peace and calm. No matter how often his mind tried to veer back to the storm or the nightmare, he was to return it again and again to the small thing and think only of that. And he would listen carefully to his mother’s slow, even breathing, counting each inhalation, changing the pace of his own breaths until they matched hers, resting a hand on his chest so that he felt the movements in sync with the sound. And soon, inevitably, his fear would begin to recede and he would find himself able to return to rest.

He set a hand on his chest again now, just next to Guthláf, and he concentrated on their breathing. How it sounded. How it felt, both in the rise and fall of his own ribs and in the warmth of Guthláf’s exhalations on his hand. How it looked when the whiskers of Guthláf’s beard fluttered slightly as air left his nose. He counted breaths and brought his mind back to the count each and every time it slipped to darker matters. And many long minutes and many hundreds of breaths later, he eventually closed his eyes and drifted into uneasy, dreamless sleep.

Guthláf’s first months as banner bearer passed in relative quiet as he finished his healing and the éored was confined to exercises and training, there being no other need for them at the time. Even so, Guthláf was happy in a way that Wídfara had never seen before. Pride poured out of him when he returned to service, and he greeted each opportunity to practice and drill as one who had been given an unexpected but precious gift. It couldn’t cure Wídfara’s misgivings and dread, but it did help him to see the joy and fulfillment that his endurance allowed. And for his part, Guthláf did all that he could to show Wídfara his loving appreciation for the sacrifices he knew were being made on his behalf, for Wídfara to give up his peace of mind in support of Guthláf’s dreams and ideals that far surpassed any of the modest ambitions Wídfara had for himself.

They held onto a tenuous calm, and Wídfara slowly grew accustomed to the presence of his fears. They were never gone, but they receded into the background, as constant yet indistinct as the sound of the surf to those who live by the sea. But his ability to withstand the present was one thing. It remained uncertain what would happen when the first call for relief brought those fears racing back to the forefront and sent them off to battle with Guthláf in his new role.

That call eventually came from the West-mark, where the need for extra assistance was becoming increasingly common as forces of Isengard grew bolder and more aggressive toward the Rohirrim. Of the éoreds in the city, Elfhelm chose to send the king’s to keep their skills sharp after a period of inactivity, and the order went out around midday for a departure first thing in the morning. Guthláf’s eyes had gone right to Wídfara when the announcement was made, but the busy press of preparations kept them from a moment alone until long after the sun had gone down and the rest of the garrison was settled for sleep.

In those small hours of the night, Wídfara was stretched out on his side, a hand on his chest and counting his breaths, when Guthláf quietly slipped in. Without a word, he lay down alongside Wídfara and pulled him back into his arms. A tall man himself, with broad shoulders and a solid build, it wasn’t easy to make Wídfara feel small, nor was that a sensation he necessarily enjoyed. But held in Guthláf’s long, strong limbs and pressed tightly into the niche made by his body, he surrendered to the feeling and let himself be wholly enveloped.

“Are you alright?” Guthláf whispered the words, his lips so close to the soft, curving edge of Wídfara’s ear that he felt each one.

“I’m trying,” he answered. And Guthláf kissed his ear, pulled him even tighter, and held him that way all night, until the morning bells called the éored to its muster point and they left for battle.

In the next chapter, Wíd sees Guthláf carry the banner for the first time with surprising results.

@emmanuellececchi @hobbitwrangler @dreambigdreamz @konartiste @sotwk

Dividers by the wonderful @quillofspirit

#guthláf #wídfara #rohan #obscure blorbos #rohirrim #lotr #lord of the rings #guthlaf #widfara #diacritics really mess with my tags!

17 notes · View notes

bunnie-bits · 9 months

Text

i wanna kis (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) it's almost midnight ladies u know what that means .. (yearning hours)

#me n my friend got crossfaded n rly cozy and i wanted 2 cuddle but that wouldn't b appropriate btwn us (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) i wouldn't #dare ask omg. but now i rly want someone 2 lay on my chest n hold them n give each other eepy kisses ₍ ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ ₎#i also wasn't expecting company 2 day bc i didn't have the energy 4 stuff this wk and it's like (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)#i don't wanna kick u out given ur night but i should be laying down rn (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠) either that or doin fuck all in the back lol #and so i brought us 2 the back n we smoked n talked in the dark‚ and got to trade ghost stories bc she also dealt w ghosts as a kid 0:#that was fun (❁´◡`❁) I'd been wanting to do that w her since i found out #it's nice having a friend who's been into horror since they were young too ╰(￣ω￣ｏ) that talk was after watching 2 movies hehe #we saw evil dead rise n malignant 😈 and then talking abt spiritually in a non-religious sense then ghosts #and originally i was gonna get food but nah we used a coupon for 2 pizzas n got delivery it's been an extremely chill night and i needed it!#things have been so crazy this week with work omg. my weekend is probs gonna b uneventful (hopefully!) and i wanna b at home!!#just veg out n play bibyo gaym (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠) and buy more bags of food for the squirrels n birds #these squirrels omg 😂 i work in the back and they know i give them food so they've been getting up on my lap sometimes like hello??#or i look over my laptop and fr see a squirrel just sitting in the chair across from me poking their head up over the table staring #i knoooow babies i know I'll get u ur food as soon as possible. omg and i have monday off?? i forgor ;u; !! n e ways I'm feeling good 2night #started out Yearning but (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠) what a great way to start my weekend. she called me just as i was wrapping things up w work :3 #i can actually Breathe this weekend and I'm not exhausted (⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠;⁠) nice.#im gonna go listen 2 my silly little music n go back 2 yearning hehe. but hiii a girl is Up now and im v stoned n in sleepover mode

10 notes · View notes

sinner-as-saint · 5 months

Text

run for your life

Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with.

Themes: slight stalker!bucky, possessive!bucky, mild degrading kink, smut, FLUFF, opposite aesthetics, mild daddy kink (nicknames only), cosy little town vibes

a/n: some fluffy mob!bucky to end the year <3 Thank you so much for always supporting my silly little fics. Merry Christmas my darlings, and happy New Year!! See you soon ;)

He didn't know where exactly he would end up locating you, but finding you in a cosy, small, coastal town in the south of France was not on his list.

You being the owner of a gourmet bakery was not on his list either. Bucky was confused, surprised, but mostly confused. How did this happen? At first, when Sam came to deliver him the news of your location that morning, Bucky didn’t believe him. Had Sam not been Bucky’s oldest, most loyal friend Bucky would’ve never believed him at all.

“I’m gonna need you to stop being a dumbass and go find this girl!” Sam, ever the voice of reason yelled at Bucky who had been drowning in his sorrows. “It’s been months, and I can’t keep covering for your ass. I have my own shit to do, my own men to command.” He used that cool, authoritative voice of his. “Pull yourself together, Buck. Go find her.”

Sam was right. Of course he was. He always was. And it had really been months since that damned night…

—

Bucky couldn’t wait to get out of his plane the moment it landed. It was late at night, but the perfect time to go to the club. He had missed it. Well, not the whole club really. Bucky had missed you.

He had a… special connection with you. His girl. His only girl. His favourite girl.

This time, he thought, he would do whatever he can to solidify whatever was happening between the two of you. Maybe he’d even get you to go on a real date with him. Maybe that would lead to something more. He was smiling to himself just thinking about it.

He often thought back to the night you met. He was at the club after a long day of being the dark ruler he was. All he wanted was a drink and a pretty woman on his lap. That’s when he found you.

Right as he walked in, you caught his eye. Walking around serving drinks, wearing a little see-through red dress that brought every man you walked past to his knees.

Once he got to his booth, Bucky called you over. You walked towards him sheepishly.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, beautiful.” He said, patting his thigh. He noticed the way you hesitated. Must be new, he thought.

You carefully perched on his lap, holding your empty metal tray to your chest. Bucky smirked as he looked at it, like you were putting a makeshift barrier between the two of you. When you remained quiet and squirmy, Bucky spoke up again.

“Come on, babygirl. Talk to me, it’s okay.” He whispered at his nuzzled your neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely, then I might.”

His warm breath against your skin tickled. You chuckled as you pulled away to look at him. “Um, I’m just a waitress. I’m not supposed to…” You trailed off. Both of you were aware of the no-contact ‘rule’. But there was a natural, unexplainable spark there that neither of you could ignore.

“Hmm,” His chest rumbled. “How about we go somewhere private?” He whispered into your ear and noticed the way you shivered.

You hung your head, clutching your metal tray. “Waitresses aren’t supposed to go into the VIP rooms, sir.” You said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear you above the sensual music.

Bucky smirked. Then leaned in and whispered, “I suppose I can bend the rules a little given I co-own the club.”

You froze and went to stand up immediately, already apologising but he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you on his lap.

“It’s okay, babygirl. You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

The two of you ended up in one of the VIP rooms. Nothing happened, you just kissed and talked and kissed some more. Bucky promised to come back. And he did. For months. Again and again and each time he did, you were drawn to him like he was gravity from the very moment he walked into the room.

And that night he landed after being away for weeks, he expected you to run right into his arms the moment he’d enter the club like you always did. He even got you a nice little gift to make up for the time that he’d been away. It was a rare, red diamond choker. He could already imagine how it would look around your neck. Like a brand. His.

But then he got to the club. And he noticed everyone was avoiding his eyes almost anxiously. And his girl was nowhere to be seen. He searched for you in the main area for a while, then even searched the VIP rooms, vowing to commit horrible crimes if he ever found you in there with another man.

But no.

He called Sam, who co-owned the club, and Sam had no idea who he was talking about. Bucky asked the staff members, and one bartender finally told him that you’d resigned a few weeks ago. And no one knew where you went. He asked for your full name, but no one knew that either.

Not even Sam. “I didn’t even know we had a new waitress, Buck. I have more important shit to worry about.” He’d said, adding to the burning sensation in Bucky’s chest.

“She left me.”

Sam had no idea what his best friend was babbling about. And during the many months that followed, Bucky was a mess. A mess like Sam had never seen before. Frantically scanning country after country, searching for a girl with no name. He was in love, and he wasn’t giving up. He would find his girl come what may.

—

But now Bucky knew where you were.

And he was more confused than ever. He had even more questions.

Bucky spent a whole week in that little town. Watching you, learning your routine, observing and questioning. He disguised himself as a local and always kept his distance even though his hands itched to touch you.

At first he was bothered by how you were fine with living the same day everyday. Your routine seemed boring at first, but the more he watched, the more he realised it was sort of therapeutic. The normality of it all.

He rented an apartment on the other side of the street from your bakery, and he spent hours watching you.

You lived right above the bakery. A quaint apartment, with flower pots all around the french windows. Sometimes when you forgot to turn the lights off at night, Bucky spent the whole night spying on you, counting your breaths as you slept on your couch in front of the TV.

You’d wake up at the crack of dawn, then you’d feed your dogs. He noticed you had two. Lazy, both of them. Then you’d get downstairs and within half an hour, the cool air that entered his apartment carried the smell of the sea and baked goods.

All he wanted was to cross the cobblestone street and drag you to his bed, demand answers while fucking some sense into you. But the more he watched you, the more his anger diminished. Temporarily.

The genuine smile on your face as you served your loyal customers all day, especially the ones who always came early in the morning on their way to work. The occasional sound of your voice or your laughter that slipped past whenever someone didn’t close the door right. The sound of children squealing and laughing whenever you gave away leftover baked goods or donuts in the evenings. How you knew almost everyone by name. How sometimes you invited neighbours over for wine nights. How you went on little walks in late, cool evenings, forcing your lazy pets to walk but then ending up having to carry them on the way back. They were spoiled, he realised. He hated to admit that he was jealous of the damned dogs who got so much of your attention while he starved for it.

He wasn’t angry by the end of that first week of spying, he was just hurting. How dare you live a whole new life without him? How dare you laugh and seem like you don’t miss him? He’d just spent months looking for you and here you were, just going about your day like you didn’t care? Like none of those nights you’d spent together mattered?

Meanwhile he was shaking just reminiscing the way your touch felt across his skin. He remembered the first time the two of you crossed that line in one of the VIP rooms…

You were wearing that red dress again. Fucking tease, he hissed each time you moved or squirmed on his lap.

“Baby, please,” He groaned. “Just… let me touch you. Daddy will make you feel good, so good babygirl, I promise.” He pleaded, hands caressing your soft, warm thighs.

You shook your head, popping another one of those chocolates he brought you into your mouth and sucking your fingers after. Torturing him.

“We can’t,” You insisted, with nothing but mischief in your eyes as you looked at him. “You made these rules yourself, remember?” You chuckled when he groaned again when you straddled him properly.

“I don’t give a shit about rules.” He hissed, nuzzling your neck. Slowly, he kissed up and down your neck. “I just wanna taste you. That’s it. Just a taste.”

That’s how he found himself on his knees, face in between your thighs. His skilled tongue making you whine and whimper as you tugged on his hair. Bucky hummed in appreciation the more he tasted you.

“Come on daddy’s face, baby…”

That’s it.

Bucky decided he would go see you the next morning. He would drag you back home if he had to, but he wouldn’t spend another day without you. Who did you think you were? No one just tosses him aside like this. He’d remind you who he was and then you’d both go home right away.

—

Bucky woke up to a thunderstorm. Weather around here was unpredictable. He got out of bed and immediately looked outside to find your bakery empty. No customers in sight because of the heavy rain, lightning and thunder. The golden light was on though.

He decided it was time to go have a talk with you. He promised not to lose his temper. He would go in there calmly, talk it out with you. Ask you what the fuck you are doing here, and then he’d take you home.

But that ended up not happening.

Bucky crossed the slippery cobblestone street, walked into your comforting, sweet smelling bakery and froze. He froze right there at the entrance.

As did you. Standing there behind the wooden counter, oven mittens in your hand and apron in another, you stared at Bucky with nothing but pure shock and surprise on your face. A thousand thoughts, mainly questions, crossed your mind.

What is he doing here? How did he find you? Why is he dressed casually like a local, wearing soft colours instead of his usual suits? How long has he been here? What is he doing here?

You let out a little gasp. “Bucky?”

Wrong move, apparently. Because his demeanour changed in a nanosecond. His calm and collected-ness was forgotten instantly. Jaws clenched, with a murderous look in his eyes, he walked closer, more like charged at you, and around the counter before you could even get a word out.

He had you pinned to the nearest wall before you could process it all. Knocking down a framed picture in the process. Towering above you, he looked like he was beyond pissed.

“Bucky, I—,”

“Shut up.” He hissed, voice cold with bitterness and anger. He watched how you shivered when he pinned your wrists to the wall on either side of your head. “Shut the fuck up.”

He leaned closer, chest pressing against yours leaving no space in between. He closed his eyes and sighed for a moment, trying his hardest to see reason but he was angry. So angry he couldn’t think.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He spoke with such a low voice that you trembled against him, causing him to tighten his grip around your wrists, surely bruising them. You didn’t care.

You winced, “I can explain.” Fuck, you’d missed him too. It had been months since you last saw him. He was just as handsome as you remembered. His hair was a little longer now, his beard a little thicker. But he made your heart race just the same. “Please Bucky,” You whispered, “let me explain everything to you.”

“No.” He growled before pressing his mouth to yours, angrily. Like he wanted his kiss to hurt. And it did.

His rough facial hair scratched your skin, his teeth nibbled on and bit your lips. His hands damn near crushed your wrists in his strong grip. And he didn’t give you even the briefest second to breathe. He kissed you just like how he imagined he would do once he found you. Ravenously. Pouring everything he felt into it. Desperation, anger, hurt, obsession. He couldn’t get enough.

“Bucky…” You gasped against his lips when he finally pulled away. Breathing fast, you tried to get a look at him but he just seemed even more angry.

“Turn around,” He mumbled, forcing you to turn around anyway. Fuck, the sight of you in that long, flowy, sundress was doing things to him. He was never this bothered when you used to parade around in your little see-through dresses, but somehow the sight of you in this pink, floral dress was making him act like a caveman.

His movements were rash and angry. He almost tore your dress off of you while he shoved his rough hand in between your legs and touched you where you desperately wanted him to. You whined and trembled against the cool wall when he slid a finger in, fucking you with it while he hissed into your ear.

“I should punish you for what you did to me,” His deep voice made his chest rumble against your back. “I should tie you up and fuck you however I want.”

Your dress was partially off, bunched and only hanging on around your waist. Being so dishevelled made this even dirtier. You were moaning by now, hoping the heavy rain would blur your actions from anyone who walked by the shop. Or god forbid, walk in.

“How dare you think you can just leave me?” He demanded, sliding another finger inside you and making your body come alive.

You were embarrassingly wet at this point, and the sounds your body made as he finger-fucked you were lewd. But you couldn’t get enough.

More, more, more. You mentally chanted.

Bucky wasn’t having the silent treatment, so he smacked your thigh to get your attention. You yelped. Your skin stung as he smacked it again, on the same spot. Harder this time. You cried out even louder as he kept taunting you. “Answer me, you fucking brat!” His lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “Why did you leave me?”

You cried as he kept fucking you with his fingers you even as you came. His fingers sliding in and out with ease now. The sounds you made were wanton. “You… you left first.” You tried to argue. But failed miserably.

He chuckled in that dark and dangerous way of his. “I left for work.” He said, “And I promised you I’d be back.” He reached deeper inside you, curling his fingers just enough to make you mutter incoherent things. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Please, please, please…” You begged. “Please I need to come, Bucky please.”

“Oh?” He chuckled again, slowing down his movements purposely. “No one touched you, huh?” He playfully bit on your exposed shoulder. “You’re so fucking wet it’s dripping down my hand, babygirl.” He boasted. “Is it because no one has touched you these past few months? Hmm?”

“Yes…” You had tears streaming down your face, and you nodded breathlessly. “Please…”

But instead of making you come all over his fingers, Bucky pulled away for a brief moment. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him undoing his trousers. And moments later, he was rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You shivered in pleasure.

“I’m gonna teach you what happens to people who think they can run from me, babygirl.” He growled as he pushed his cock into you, making you cry out loud as he stretched you out.

After months of not having him, right now he felt huge inside you. Just like that, memories of nights spent with him came flooding back in. You moaned as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts.

His hand gripped you by the hips, holding you against him as he sped up into you, fucking you like he hated you. Like it was punishment. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and licked, and bit on your skin as he fucked into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.

“Did you think I’d never find you?” He asked, fucking into you. “I bet you thought you’d gotten rid of me, hmm?”

You’d missed him too. He could tell by the way you were starting to clench around him already. Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how good he felt inside you.

“See, it didn’t have to be like this, baby…” he mumbled angrily against your skin while he fucked you like an animal, “I could be nice and gentle with your body, but you just had to be a fucking brat and leave me with no warning.” He spat, growling in your ear as he pounded into you, your chest slamming into the wall with each thrust. It hurt in the best way.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly.

The pleasure, the pain, the heat of him… was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Bucky–,” You choked on your words as you came undone, walls clenching around him, and a loud moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. It was almost blinding.

His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He came while biting down hard on your shoulder. So hard that even you cried out, still coming down from your high as you felt him spill deep inside you.

That bite on your shoulder hurt. And like a chain reaction, everything began to hurt. Having him here hurt. Memories of being with him in the city, in the dark rooms of that club hurt. Realising how fast your life changed hurt.

You didn’t realise you were sobbing quietly until you heard Bucky apologising profusely. Suddenly no longer angry. No longer feeling betrayed.

“Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry.” He kissed that sore spot softly, his bite mark on your shoulder repeatedly as he wrapped his arms around you, securing you in the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t know what came over me, babygirl. I’m so sorry, please look at me. Hey, hey,” He pulled away and turned you so you faced him, still with tears in your eyes. “Babygirl, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, wiping your tears away, then kissing your face repeatedly.

You remained like that for a few minutes. Arms wrapped around one another, standing there against that wall while it rained like hell outside. Bucky didn’t stop apologising.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been an animal like this with you, I—,”

You cut him off finally, “Shh, it’s okay.” You pulled away from his warm chest to look up at him. “I needed this.” You said, sniffling as you gently cupped his rough cheek, caressing his face with your thumb. “I needed you like this.”

He just hugged you close again, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.” He apologised one final time. “I’ll listen, I promise. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

You smiled faintly at him. “Then I should lock up down here and we can go upstairs. I don’t want to scare my neighbours by risking them finding us like this.” You looked down at your partially torn dress and Bucky’s unbuttoned trousers.

Much to your surprise, Bucky said, “You go ahead, I’ll close and lock up.”

You frowned at him even as you desperately tried to get the top of your sundress to cover your chest. “You wouldn’t know how to…” You trailed off as realisation set in. He was a calculated, smart man. He didn’t just apparate on your doorstep with no planning. “You’ve been watching me.” You stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

Bucky gave you a rare, guilty look.

You sighed and shook your head. “I guess I chose this life by getting involved with you.” You gave him a faint smile. “Alright then, lock it. Leave the key in the little basket by the door.” You started walking towards the stairs, then turned around again and said, “Make sure the windows are properly locked too, because of the rain and stuff.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded.

You smirked at him.

With that you took the stairs and Bucky watched you go with a fond smile on his face. No one ever ordered him around. He hated it. But coming from you, he quite liked it.

Bucky chuckled at himself because never in his life had he ever imagined he would one day be closing up a bakery in a small town, all for the woman he’s obsessively in love with. But he didn’t mind it one bit.

After following your instructions and double checking the windows, he made his way upstairs as well. Again, he didn’t know what he expected your place to look like – and all that spying only allowed him glimpses of your apartment – but he never expected your space to look so…

Pink. With occasional gold accents. Pale pink couch, the one you often fell asleep on while watching TV, and fluffy white pillows and rugs to go with. Paintings hanging on even paler pink walls. The kitchen he couldn’t quite see but he assumed it’d have to be all white. Pink dog beds, with fluffy balls of brown fur sleeping on them – wearing pink collars no less.

He couldn’t see your bedroom from the living room given the door was closed but given the pink, fluffy robe and socks you wore he could imagine just how pink it must be.

“It’s so girly.” He commented, as if surprised. Maybe he was a little. After all, he knew you as the seductive goddess he met almost every night at the club. He never realised that it was all just a show, that it was all just a persona at work. In a way, stepping into your space felt so intimate. He liked it.

You chuckled. “Coquette, please.” You corrected as you handed him a glass of red wine while he took a seat beside you. He did look a little out of place in your apartment, a dark and broody man like him. But then again, he was here and that’s all that mattered.

He turned to look at you and couldn’t resist holding your hand and pulling you onto his lap again. “Come here,” He said, “I’ve missed you.”

As you straddled his lap, your robe exposed some of your shoulder and Bucky saw the very noticeable bite mark he left on you. He grimaced when he saw it. He placed his wine glass to the side and traced the bite mark with his thumb carefully.

“I’m sorry, babygirl.” He whispered, leaning in to nuzzle your neck and kiss the bite mark. And breathe in your scent. Fuck, he’d missed it so much. “You smell a little different. Fruitier.”

You giggled when his hair tickled your skin. “I made blueberry compote earlier this morning. Perhaps that’s why.”

You could feel him smiling against your skin. Then he pulled away to look at you. His hands shamelessly slid under your robe, eager to touch your skin. Relishing it this time, not in a feral hurry like he was earlier. He seemed visibly calmer too.

“We used to spend hours like this at the club, remember?” He spoke, and immediately you were overwhelmed with nostalgia.

Hours, days, weeks, months. Some days back then you would wake up in the morning already excited to see Bucky in the evening. And it wasn’t because it was all sexual. So many nights all you two did was drink, laugh and talk about everything. He once told you that apart from Sam, you were his only real friend.

Bucky kissed you, breaking you out of your reverie surely thinking of the past as well. It was a slow, gentle kiss. It was consuming you. His hands caressed your thighs which were still a little sore from earlier. You winced in pain when he massaged the spot where he spanked you.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss, apologising again as he kissed down your chin. “I’m sorry, babygirl.”

You smiled at him after taking a sip of your wine. “Stop pretending as if we were always vanilla or that this is scandalous in any way shape or form.” You chuckled as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, “We both know this was nothing compared to how we used to be.”

Bucky smiled, a little sadly. “I missed you.” He repeated. “Tell me,” He said, “Tell me everything.”

You finished your wine. “What do you want to know?”

“Why did you start working at the club?” He caught the look of sadness that suddenly appeared on your face upon hearing the question.

“I… I had to drop out of uni because my grandparents fell sick.” You explained. “Mom and dad were travelling for work at the time, and I was the only one who could take care of grandma and grandpa. The treatments and all ended up costing a little more than what we had so I needed a job that paid well, I also needed one that would allow me to be flexible with my time so I could take care of my grandparents.”

Bucky nodded, “Hence the club.”

You nodded in confirmation.

“Your parents never intervened? So you could finish your education?” He questioned.

“No.” You said, almost emotionless. “When they found out what I was doing, where I was working to earn the extra money we needed… they kind of disowned me. And vowed to never talk to me again.” You chuckled, humourlessly.

“They don’t deserve you.” Bucky said quickly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close. “You were so brave baby, I wish you would’ve told me all of this.”

You slid your fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp gently. “You were already taking care of me.” You said, “You mended my heart a little each night when I saw you.”

“I wish I could’ve done more.” He kissed along your collarbones, then froze again as if he remembered something. “I almost forgot,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sleek black box. “I got you something.” Then clarified, “Well, I got you this months ago. I would’ve given it to you had you not run away from me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “I didn’t run from you, I–,”

He cut you off with a finger on your lips. “Tell me about that part in a minute,” He opened the slender black box to reveal the red diamond choker inside. “I had this made for you.” He watched your face intently.

“Bucky…” You hesitantly reached for it, running your fingers over the beauty of it. It was a simple design. Elegant, timeless. Way too expensive. “I can’t take this,” You began protesting, “It’s too much.”

Bucky made a face and said, “Oh shut up.” He was already clasping it around your neck before you could protest any further. “It’s a gift from daddy,” He whispered against the corner of your lips. “You deserve it, babygirl.”

When he pulled away to look at you, his heart almost broke again at the sight of the tears in your eyes.

“What is it?” He asked, wiping your tears away for the second time today. “Is it that ugly?”

You laughed through the tears. “No, it’s the prettiest thing I own.” You sniffled. “The only piece of real jewellery in fact.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Remind me to get you a whole collection.” Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you deeply.

Then it turned into something more and by the time the afternoon rolled around, the two of you had lost count how many times you’d made love on your pink couch. Slow touches and cuddles, and soft kisses always resulted in the two of you fucking again.

—

In the late afternoon, while snacking on random things Bucky realised you still hadn’t explained how you ended up here.

“Grandma and grandpa’s bakery.” You explained, watching the rain pour outside. “They left it to me. They died within weeks of each other,” You said with a melancholic smile on your face, “I always knew that would happen. They loved each other too much to live without one another for too long.”

You turned to look at Bucky who pulled you onto his lap again and held you as tightly as possible. You weren’t crying this time, but being held felt nice.

You continued, “I had funerals to plan, I had to pack up my life and move all the way here, I had to take on the responsibility of the bakery and renovate this apartment. And you were already gone at the time so…” You sighed. “I didn’t know if I should leave a note or not. I didn’t know if you were actually coming back or–,”

“I would never abandon you. I thought you knew that.” Bucky said, a little annoyed at that. “I made you a promise, did you not–,”

You couldn’t help but argue, “Yeah well, I didn’t know if what we had was real enough for you to come back to.”

Bucky frowned. “Baby…”

You gave him a small smile, and pressed your forehead against his, rubbing your noses together. “I know now. It is.”

When you finally pulled away from his addicting embrace you said, “I’m gonna get started on dinner. You can shower in there,” You pointed at your bedroom door as you got up from the couch. Bucky tried to grab you again but you pulled away laughing. “The weather is clearing up, we can have dinner outside on the patio.”

You threw him a wink and made your way into the kitchen.

Bucky finally got up and walked into your bedroom. Just as he imagined, the place was all white, gold, and pink. He actually laughed when he walked into the bathroom and found it pale pink as well. He’d grown to love it too by now.

–

You were busy at the stove, making your best seafood pasta, when you felt strong arms wrapping around you from behind.

“How’d you like my bedroom?” You asked, smirking already as you pictured him in your very girly space.

“It’s very pink. The bed looks comfy,” He whispered into your ear, “I’m gonna fuck you in it later.”

You chuckled and passed him another glass of wine. As you turned to face him again, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. There he was, one of the scariest men you knew, standing in your grandma-core kitchen, wearing a fluffy white robe with pink clouds on it.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t comment on it. I can already hear Sam laughing his ass off and he’s not even here.”

You laughed even harder before you kissed his cheek. “It suits you.” You said. Then you handed him a couple of plates and pointed at the patio which could be seen from the kitchen window, “Can you set the table?”

He finished his wine and then mumbled on his way out like a grumpy old man, “First close the bakery, now set the table,” He shouted from outside, “You know, if this whole thing was your elaborate plan to hire me as your domestic helper, you could’ve just asked, babygirl.”

You laughed at him from inside the kitchen. You shook your head as you watched him. Wearing your fluffy robe, setting the small table on your patio. The view of the ocean from that patio was to die for, and the setting sun was just sublime. The golden lights you’d hung above the cute little dining area added to the cosy atmosphere. Now with the weather a lot nicer than it was hours ago, you could hear the small town coming alive again. Voice and laughter, children cycling down the cobblestone.

And Bucky. Bucky was here too. Winking at you from the patio. And you thought your life had ended when your parents disowned you. You scoffed at the thought. Then you thanked whatever god was listening for bringing Bucky back to you.

—

During dinner, Bucky filled you in on what he was up to while you were gone. And you did the same. One bottle of wine turned into two, then you and Bucky laughed at random things while you did the dishes.

Then you found yourselves in your bed. And like he promised, Bucky made love to you there as well.

His muscular body hovered above yours. He looked down at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes as you undid the ridiculous robe to let his cock out. He was hard already.

“Think I like you a lot in this robe.” You teased.

Bucky laughed before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he parted your legs and slid into you.

You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly. He was nice and snug inside you, stretching you out in a way that had you whining and whimpering under him in no time.

Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head on your pink covers as he sped up into you. Your eyes rolled back once he started moving in and out of you. Taking his sweet time, loving the way his warm skin rubbed against yours.

He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly. “I love you.” He breathed against your mouth. “So fucking much.” He kissed along your skin and moaned into your ear as he sped up. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

“Oh Buck,” You smiled up at him, “I love you.”

“You’re mine.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you as he made you come again.

“And you’re mine.”

—

You woke up some time in the middle of the night, thirsty after all that wine from earlier. But the moment you sat up to get out of bed, Bucky woke up too. Asking in his groggy voice, which you had never heard before but concluded that it was kind of hot, “Where are you going? What is it?”

You smiled and kissed his forehead while getting out of bed, “Just thirsty. I’ll be right back.”

Bucky got up after you, getting out of bed as well. “I’m coming too.” He said, “I worry this girly room might engulf me if you leave me here alone.” He joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he followed you out and into the kitchen.

Truth is, he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a second.

You handed him a glass of cold water while you put some water to boil to make tea. Some green tea should put the two of you right back to sleep, you thought.

So there you were in your cosy kitchen, wrapped in a soft blanket. Bucky leaned against the counter watching you. He was shirtless, just in some white, cotton pyjama pants that you lent him. They didn’t fit him at all but something about him in your clothes made him seem adorable.

You were both quiet. But you could feel Bucky thinking. He looked like he was trying to find the right way to ask you something. You didn’t know what. But he had that little frown on his forehead. You wanted to kiss it away.

“What is it?” You asked.

Bucky avoided your eyes, choosing to stare at the floor instead as he asked, “Do you think… I mean, would you ever come back home?”

Ah. The few moments of silence which followed were heavy. You didn’t like how that question put some kind of metaphorical distance between the two of you.

So you took a few steps and leaned into him. You placed your hands on his muscular, toned chest and said, “This is home, for me.” You gave him the truth. “That city was never home now that I think about it.” You smiled faintly, “The only good part was you.”

Bucky nodded. “So,” He began, then stopped to clear his throat and spoke again, “You won’t ever leave this place?”

You slid your hands up across his skin, feeling the warm, strong muscles underneath your palm. You traced his collar bones, then his neck and finally cupped his face in your hands. He wrapped his arms loosely around your middle.

“I love it here, Bucky.” You stated. “It’s quiet, and peaceful. It looks boring at first but it’s what I’ve always wanted.” You said. “Plus my grandparents left me this, it’s all I have of them.” You paused for a while, hating that look of hurt in his ocean blue eyes. “I won’t leave. This is my home now.”

Bucky was quiet. Even his breathing was slow.

You let go of him, took a step back and said, “Maybe you should head back.” It felt like the words sliced you from the inside. It hurt to even utter them. “You have a life there.” You gave him a sad smile. Followed by a faint chuckle. “Unless you want to take up fishing then I’m afraid there’s nothing for you here.”

He scoffed. “There’s you.” He said as if that was more than enough.

“Bucky.” You warned.

He shook his head, then reached for his phone which he’d forgotten in the kitchen earlier tonight. “Sam will probably fly out here to beat me up when I tell him.” He spoke, none of what he said made sense to you though.

“What are you–,”

“And he’ll have to work twice as much. But he’ll do great, I know. He’s Sam after all, strongest man I know.” Bucky carried on, ignoring your questions as he typed away on his phone. “I’ll do as much as I can from here, maybe fly back to the city once or twice a year to show my face.”

“Bucky,” You warned again, “What are you talking—,”

Bucky continued, cutting you off each time you tried to get a word in. “I’ll have to call my people, actually I have a lot of phone calls to make if–,”

You cut him off this time, stepping closer to him again and grabbing him by his broad shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky gave you a lovesick smile. “Well if you’re not going back to the city, neither am I.” He answered. You froze. He continued. “I’ll have to buy us a bigger home somewhere around here. We’ll keep the apartment and bakery of course, but maybe we could use some staff to help with maintenance and to keep the bakery running.”

He made a mental, makeshift plan while you had silent tears streaming down your face.

He continued, “We’ll get you back in uni, whichever one you want and whichever offers distance learning because there’s no way I’m letting you live on some campus away from me.” He paused, then said, “I’ll have to actually take up fishing. Maybe I’ll buy a few boats, you know I always wanted to be a yacht broker.” He sounded almost… hopeful. “Retirement sounds nice.”

You sniffled. “Buck…”

Bucky kept talking while he gently caressed your back. “I’ll have to learn French,” He groaned, “At this grown age.” He added. “I’ll have to know what's a chocolate croissant and what’s a pain au chocolat if I want to occasionally help out with the bakery. I can’t be uncultured while my wife is this connoisseur, you know? The locals will laugh at me.”

“Wife?” You questioned through tears and a faint, barely there smile.

He rolled his eyes. “Baby, I’m wearing your clothes, sleeping in your girly room, eating off of your floral plates.” He explained, “If you don’t marry me, I will lose my reputation.” He joked.

You laughed, and sobbed as you threw your arms around him, hugging him as tightly as you could.

“You don’t have to do this.” You spoke through tears. Your heart felt so full, you didn’t know how to handle a man like Bucky changing the course of his life for you. All for you.

Bucky hugged you back, kissing the top of your head. “I want to.” He said, “I have to. Otherwise you’ll run away again.” He teased.

You laughed quietly. “I won’t.” You said firmly.

“Good,” He sighed, squeezing you tightly in his arms before letting go. “Now I have to tell Sam.” He looked genuinely worried.

You giggled, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Tell him in the morning.” You whispered, your hands already trailing down to the waistband of the pyjama pants.

Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss you, deeply. “Okay baby,” He whispered, forgetting everything else as he got lost in you all over again.

He made love to you right there in the kitchen, sliding in between your legs as you sat on the edge of the counter. Slow and gentle. Kissing you softly, making a mess of you as he made you come over and over and over again. Whispering against your heated skin, your wet, open mouth, “You’re mine…”

“All yours,” You answered, holding him tightly. Your nails scratching down his back, your skin burning in all the best ways as his beard scratched it each time he kissed you.

This time, he made you a different promise.

“If you chose to run again, you better run for your life and pray I never find you, babygirl…” He whispered into your ear as he slid inside you again. His cock made it hard for you to focus on anything else but you tried your hardest to hear him out. “Because I won’t be this kind if I ever have to hunt for you again.”

You laughed, but ended up moaning as he bit down on your other shoulder this time. Marking you as his again.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader

5K notes · View notes

nohoney · 2 months

Text

inspired by a text i sent

“we should call out of work together one day, just spend a day fucking.” you suggest to bakugou one day when he returns from work as you’re setting food down at his place on the table. “what do you say?”

bakugou grunts and points out that you and him have sex on the regular, that there’s no need to take time off just to fuck for a whole day. he doesn’t pay your suggestion much mind at first. he works, comes home, spends time with you, and then he rests.

however there comes a stressful period from his agency. things are slightly fucked with an underground villain organization that his team is trying to keep tabs on so his schedule gets rearranged as he helps lead the case on the activity. suddenly he’s not seeing you as often, coming in unreasonably late at night when you’re already asleep, or you’re coming home just as he’s leaving. you’re only able to have a few minutes with each other before he has to go. maybe even a quickie if the two of you are really lucky but even those leave the both of you slightly unsatisfied.

it’s just not enough time together.

it’s a whole month of this fucked up routine, and it’s when he sees your engagement ring sitting in your little jewelry tray in the bathroom when bakugou recalls your words and decides that he needs it.

he trudges into his home again at four in the morning, dropping his work bag by the couch and running his hands down his face that’s coupled with an exhausted sigh. his eyes are tired, his back aches a little, and he’s a little hungry but can’t be bothered with eating a meal at this time. all he wants to do is rest next to you.

bakugou wants his old schedule back.

after he’s showered, bakugou is careful to not jostle you too much as he joins you in bed. his heart clenches a little as he sees you curled up on his side of the bed, your face smushed into his pillow and even wearing one of his shirts are your pajamas. fuck—he misses you.

so he picks up his phone, using the last of his energy to send a text to kirishima and a sidekick in a small groupchat.

[04:47] calling out for two days. keep it together until i get back or else.

kirishima will be unquestioning to his request seeing as bakugou had done a similar favor for him when he was getting burnt out from the agency too.

his phone is put on do not disturb and is set with the screen facing down on the bedside table. bakugou is careful to move you back to your side of the bed, pressing a kiss to your temple to soothe you when you groan unpleasantly. he’s happy to sink into the warmth of the bed and he pulls you in close, falling asleep quicker than he could have anticipated.

you normally wake up at seven and you’re pretty good at hopping out of bed to start your day. this morning is not as easy, not when you wake up to bakugou having practically trapped you against him. it’s nice though, so so nice considering the schedule he’s had lately. he has to rest though from his late night and you have to be ready for work, so you try to peel his arms off you.

oh his arms… so fucking strong and built, they feel so good to be wrapped around your waist but you have to go.

when you attempt a second time to get out of his hold, you let out a small yelp when your fiancé tightens his hold and grunts, “stay.”

“katsuki, i can’t,” your voice rasps with sleepiness, trying to shake it off along with your hulking hero soon-to-be-husband off you, “gotta get ready for work.”

“stay.” bakugou repeats himself a little more firmly.

you sigh out loud and attempt a third time to get out of his hold. you’re surprised when he pushes you to lie back on the bed and he cages you with his body, looking down at you with dark bags under his eyes. almost fed up, you’re about to yell at him but he speaks first, “call out, i miss you and i’m gonna fuck you all day.”

his words are familiar but in the moment, you can’t recall from when you heard them. it has a reaction on you, has you aching and clenching your legs together as you look up at him. “you need rest, you got home late.”

“i’ll sleep when i feel like it. i just fucking miss you.” he croons, leaning down to nose at your cheek and then inhale the scent of your lotion that he can still smell faintly on your skin, “call out.”

oh god, you are tempted but you want him to sleep and you have a scheduled call with all the other managers for your work today. “katsuki, get some sleep baby. i can make dinner tonight when i get home and-“ you try to convince him to get rest but he speaks over you.

“c’mon, fuck on my cock and show me how much you miss me.”

you’re finally convinced.

it only takes thirty seconds to send a text with a reasonable excuse to your lead manager that you won’t be in for the next two days. you know that they’ll say no problem to you since you’ve hardly called out of work since you earned your promotion within the last year. and besides, there’s always other people calling out anyway so now it’s your fucking turn.

plus you know… you’re dynamight’s fiancée so you should get to flex that occasionally.

everything is frenzied now that the two of you know you have the next 48 hours with one another. no work, no meetings, no emails—just the two of you finally together.

the kisses are desperate, clothes are flung off and thrown somewhere on the bedroom floor, and bakugou is lying on his back as he grabs your hips to have you sit on his face. to have him hold you like this again has you excited, moaning loudly in relief as your fiancé eagerly eats you out. your hips roll to glide his tongue along your pussy, his big hands sliding up from your hips and cupping just right underneath your tits, one of his thumbs leisurely petting just right underneath your breast.

“oh god, oh god! fuck, s’good!” your breath is low, speaking more to yourself and lewdly moaning when bakugou roughly grabs your tits.

“missed this pussy on my face,” bakugou groans from beneath in between licks, “missed my fucking girls right here.”

ugh it’s so corny how he refers to your breasts but in the moment you find it grossly endearing. sometimes when you were cooking, bakugou would come up behind you and put his hands under your shirt just to grope at you. sometimes you would get genuinely annoyed at him for intruding in your space but with him being so busy in the last month, you had missed it more than you thought you would have.

it’s almost embarrassing how easily you cum on his tongue but bakugou has no complaints, practically drinking it up as he continues to eat away at you. as much as you relieved to get eaten out again, you were aching even more for his cock in your mouth. hopping off his face, you feel your mouth drool upon seeing your fiancé’s hard cock flushed a rosy red at the tip as it twitches against his lower stomach.

“pumpkin, hold on i want to you to—fuck!” bakugou wanted your cunt right away but he throws his head back against the pillows when you immediately deepthroat his cock. just as he had eagerly eaten you out to show how much he missed you, you were enthusiastically taking him into your throat. bakugou almost feels like a virgin with the way he’s reacting, finding himself a little sensitive that he hadn’t gotten properly sucked off in a while thanks to those shitty villains that showed on the radar for some real serious shit.

bakugou swears he’s gonna rip them apart with his own hands once they’re located for keeping him and his fiancée apart this long.

his chest rises and falls quickly, one of his hands clenching a fist as we he wills himself to not cum. but god, your mouth feels so good on his cock and he hasn’t had a proper nut in a while. the quickies he had with you along with the secret hurried fisting on his dick while on the job just weren’t cutting it. finding some semblance of control, bakugou grabs you by the back of your head and pulls you off.

“katsukiiii!” you whine out his name in a small drawl, letting out a petulant little noise that makes him coo over you, “i want more!”

bakugou hushes you gently, guiding you back over to him until he’s got you hovering over his cock. “sit on it baby, give that fucking pussy to me.” he urges you with a tone of desperation in his voice, “c’mon, fuck!”

slowly you ease onto his cock, your eyes fluttering as the tip breaches you and the stretch of your fiancé has you excited. a month isn’t necessarily a long time but when neither of you hadn’t been able to not even spend at least fifteen minutes together in the entirety since his fucked up schedule, it ends up feeling like a lifetime has passed.

your hands rest on bakugou’s pecs, needing the leverage as you sit back fully onto his cock, gasping in surprise when you already cum on him.

“oh fuck, ya missed me that much sweetheart? you only put it in and you’re already cumming again?” bakugou breathlessly laughs, using his strong hands to lift you up slightly and slamming you down. he relishes in your gasp and how your cunt is already soaking wet—it’s dripping right where’s got you plugged and onto his balls. one would think that it’s a little cruel that he repeats the motion a few times, still getting the same result as you start to lose your mind from becoming sensitive already, but he’s been missing this and missing you.

you manage to get some semblance of your brain back, pushing off bakugou’s hands and put in the work of riding him yourself. there’s no work that you need to get to later on—nothing that’s going to get in the way between you and him!

“missed you, katsuki! missed you, missed you!” your words are desperate and your cunt is eager to milk your fiancé’s cock. you ride him hard, even as your legs start to tire and you can feel a thin sheen of sweat start to form on your body, you don’t want to stop. you take him in, watching bakugou become equally overwhelmed. his eyes shut and his mouth drops open to groan, but when he attempts to open his eyes it seems that he doesn’t know where to look.

he loves watching your cunt swallow his dick, he loves how your tits bounce in his face when you fuck him like this, and he loves looking at your face as you—

smack!

“ah shit, the fuck was that for babe?” bakugou curses but he was actually exhilarated from you slapping him. normally he’s the one slapping your cheeks, but it’s not unheard of for you to give him the same treatment occasionally.

“you-you missed tasting wedding cakes with me! it was scheduled this month and you couldn’t make it!” you huff out, sitting back again onto his dick and this time shaking your hips. the little motion makes his eyes roll back but he manages to hiss out ‘m sorry baby…

oh fuck, you’re right. he had it marked off in his calendar three months prior but this stupid schedule wrecked everything! and who knows if you’ve had to reschedule or postpone certain things that are needed for the wedding all because of him.

once bakugou is back to work, he is definitely going to kill those stupid villain fuckers.

he stutters apologies, canting his hips up to meet yours and fucking you from the bottom. “sorry, fucking sorry baby… tell me everything that i missed. everything.”

“r-right now?” you shudder and then yelp when bakugou seizes control, putting you on your back and leaning over you, “tell you now?”

“no stupid, tell me when we’re not fucking.” bakugou tuts, deciding that you’re way too coherent with his dick in you. so he rams himself into you, deep into cunt and hearing another wet squelch that drips onto his cock and is gonna make a wet spot on the bed. he’s got plans to make you cum more, to make you squirt, to make you lose your voice from screaming for him but only after he listens to all the updates he’s missed for the last month.

he is going to fuck you as much as he can for the next two days.

bakugou misses your tight walls clinging onto him, sometimes clenching so hard that he has to wait for you to relax a little so that he can keep on moving. soft and wet and warm, he’s been obsessed with your pussy since the first date he had with you. he’s been in love with you for the last three years and he’s going to keep on loving you forever.

right now though, he just really really wants to fuck you for himself.

the frenzied fucking is everything that he’s been missing, watching as your head digs into the pillow and your body starts to shake. you were babbling a little earlier but now you’re so fucked out that you can only make sounds, no discernible words can be formed in your head or out loud. he’s got you suspended in ecstasy, drowning in a sea of rapture, and just absolutely stupid from his cock.

“missed this sloppy lil, pussy. fucking love this pussy, all fucking mine.”

bakugou reaches in between your bodies, knowing that he’s about to make you undone. he rubs the pad of his thumb against your clit in tandem with his thrusts. it’s like you’re renewed, your eyes widening in a brief moment of clarity at the new stimulation, taking in the onslaught of pleasure that’s surging up and down your body.

you wail for him, your toes curling and your back arching high off the bed. your cunt spasms around his cock, hugging him tightly before your orgasm crashes hard onto you. one of your arms manages to clutch onto bakugou and pulls him in close, your nails dragging down hard against his back.

that makes him come undone, fucking hard into you still as thick ropes of cum fill you. even as he cums, his fingers still work on your clit but you can barely manage to take anymore before slapping his hand away instinctively to stop overstimulating you.

your fiancé’s body is a pleasant weight that drops on you, the both of you catching your breath after some mind blowing sex. bakugou feels your hands soothe over his back. your touch is relaxing and what he’s been needing this entire time. he decides to stay like this until his cock finally softens inside you.

bakugou pulls out and rolls over to his side of the bed, pulling up the blankets to help cover you up while you still try to get yourself in order. he basks in the glow that he’s sure is radiating off of him, like a knot that’s finally massaged out of his neck, like a joint that finally cracks and gives you some relief when you stretch.

yeah… he’s been needing this.

the two of you are up on your feet and hour later, barely clothed in your own home as you walk around in an oversized sweatshirt and he leaves the bedroom only wearing his favorite sweats. bakugou is at the stove as he cooks breakfast and you’re catching him up on some of the things he’s missed on your side while you make a dirty chai for him.

“i can order a wedding cake sampler and have it delivered here, how does that sound? seeing as you missed the actual tasting.” you offer to your fiancé, stirring up his chai for him before setting it to the side, “comes with twelve flavors for us to try.”

“yeah, why not? i don’t think we’ve ever sat around just eating cake before.” bakugou agrees as he plates the second omelette that’s meant for you.

“it’s not just cake we’re eating, katsuki! it’s for the wedding! we need to choose what we think everyone will enjoy.” you chide him playfully as you set up the table for the two you. bakugou likes the setup of the little breakfast nook, but he leaves for the bathroom to fetch one thing that will make everything complete.

he picks up your engagement ring from your jewelry tray.

although bakugou is the one who decided to call off work suddenly, he can’t help but glance at his phone anyway for any updates. and he gets a single text from kirishima-

[9:01] good news! we’re off the hook for now with the case—managed to get todoroki’s agency to help rotate the watch too. enjoy your days off bro!

bakugou is grateful but he only sends it in the form of a thumbs up reaction to the text. he knows that kirishima appreciates it anyway and is probably just as relieved.

so he walks back to have breakfast with you, deciding to withhold the news from you for now as he tells you to put your ring on. and it feels right again to sit down and eat with you, drink from his favorite mug, and to be actually relaxed for the first time in a month.

“mmkay, the cakes are gonna be delivered by one! and i know it’s us choosing together, but i really liked the strawberry mousse with white cake as an option.”

he’s still got the next 40-something hours with you to fuck you as much as he wants and to make up all the time he’s missed.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut

3K notes · View notes

strawberrysturniolo · 4 months

Note

req- sloppy sleepy sex with chris after a day of filming/working

night routine // chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris say goodnight with some soft sex after a long day. soft!dom chris, praise, face riding, sleepy sex, overstimulation, cockwarming

I wasn’t surprised to be woken up at 3 am. Chris’ efforts of trying to come into his room quietly are always there, but they’re never successful.

After another long day of work, closing it out with a car video filmed in the middle of the night. My eyes adjust to the darkness, allowing me to watch him pull his shirt off from over his head and toss it to the floor, pulling his sweatpants off next before heading into the bathroom.

He doesn’t say a word to me until after he’s back from the shower, his hair dripping small beads of water as he leans over me and presses a kiss to my forehead before getting situated under the covers of his bed.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispers, trying to keep his voice down to refrain from waking me up.

“I’m up,” I mumble, shifting a bit to lay my head on his chest.

His arms engulf me the second I move. “Hey, you. What time did you go to sleep?”

“Mmm,” I hum, trying to remember the last time I saw on my phone before my eyes gave out. “I think midnight.”

“Right after I left then,” he adds.

I nod against him. “How’d filming go?”

“Good. Probably one of my favorites now.”

I find any strength gained in my three hour slumber to pull my weight across the bed. I straddle my boyfriends waist, earning a quiet groan of approval from him.

“I’m exhausted, baby,” he tells me, although his hands lifting up my shirt say otherwise.

His fingers dance across my chest, planting themselves on my boobs. He pinches my nipples lightly, before lifting my shirt up entirely and replacing his fingers with his mouth. He places wet kisses all over my chest, sucking lightly at my most sensitive spot.

My hips rock against him without any sense of self control. In mere seconds, he’s hard beneath me.

“There you go, baby,” he nods. “You’re so worked up for me, huh? Just couldn’t wait for me to get home and touch you?”

“Uh huh,” I cry out, the ache inside of me growing.

“Lemme take care of you,” he says, holding my hips and rubbing me against him for a few more seconds. He then lifts me off of him, laying me back next to him.

He massages my ass with one hand as he uses the other to remove my underwear, the only thing keeping us apart. I hear the fabric of his underwear as he pulls it off his body, his dick pressing against me from behind.

With soft kisses pressed to my shoulder, he shifts his hips towards me, positioning his dick at my entrance before pushing himself into me slowly, moaning lowly as half of his length finds its way inside of me.

“Fuck, you were made for me,” he mumbles as he places his lips to the side of my neck, sucking the skin below my ear as his thrusts create a steady pace.

A few strokes later, he hits the spot he’s grown incredibly familiar with. I cant control the moan that leaves my throat as my hand flies out in front of my to grab onto the sheets.

“Ohhh, there it is,” he coos, wrapping a hand around my waist as he fucks into me. There’s something so innocent about this as we lay here in a spooning position, yet he’s burying himself into me, messy thrusts filling me completely.

“Fuck, Chris. I can’t- I’m gonna cum.”

He pulls out of me quickly, grabbing my shoulder and yanking me backwards so I turn back around, facing him again. “Take me in your mouth. Saves us the mess. I’ll do the same to you, just try to hold on for me.”

I nod, shuffling down the bed to his dick, where he releases his cum instantly when my tongue touches his tip. He gasps softly, panting heavily as he rides out his orgasm.

As soon as he catches his breath, he shifts me again, this time positioning me on top of his face as he lays down at the head of the bed. Before I know it, his lips are latched around my clit, holding my hips and moving me against his mouth.

I grip the headboard as I cum on his face, watching his eyes roll back as he gains his own sense of pleasure from watching me get off above him.

Once I feel like I’m going to crumble, I try to lift myself off Chris. He lets me up a few inches before hooking his arms under my thighs, letting himself bask in the view.

He smiles to himself before he presses soft kisses to my overstimulated clit. I wince at the touch, earning a cocky smirk in response.

“Too much?”

I nod breathlessly.

“Poor baby,” he pouts before pulling me down to lay beside him. “Kiss?” he asks, puckering his lips. I press a soft kiss to his lips. “You taste so good, don’t you?”

I blush at him, but luckily it’s too dark for him to see.

“Now you can see why I’m so obsessed with you,” he adds before pulling me into him.

Minutes pass and my eyes gain a weight, forcing them shut as my exhaustion kicks in. I’m almost asleep when Chris asks, “Can we try something?”

“Hmm?” I hum, too tired to speak.

“Um,” he searches for the right words. “Do you think… maybe… you could cockwarm me?”

I know what this is, but it’s something we’ve never talked about. I didn’t even know Chris had an interest in it.

“I mean,” I start, “Why not?

Chris presses a kiss to my cheek before lining himself up to me again, this time half hard. Something I’ll always appreciate is him kissing my cheek before we try something new. It’s so comforting to add something so innocent before we expand our sexual horizons.

He pushes himself into me again, exhaling a breath he had been holding in. “Fuck, this is so good.”

I let myself adjust to him before scooting closer so my ass is pressed to his pelvis. He wraps a hand around me, holding me so he can’t remove himself.

“If I start fucking you in the middle of the night… just slap me or something,” he jokes. I let out a laugh before turning over my shoulder to kiss him goodnight.

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilolo @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @1201pm-blog @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo

4K notes · View notes

portgasdwrld · 6 months

Text

☆ naked in bed.

•°. *࿐what are their reaction when they see your naked body waiting for them under the sheets?

•°. *࿐NSFW, featuring : Law, Shanks, Zoro

Law

It was a long day, and he wanted nothing more but to rest in his bed and relax

You had other plans

You have been craving for his touch for such a while but never found the perfect moment to make a move

So you thought about doing something simple but clear: sleeping naked

You giggle to yourself when you hear your boyfriend slide open the door from the bathroom.

You stare at him shamelessly full with need and lust

Only his hips were wrapped around a way too colourful towel for him (you insisted to buy it for souvenir at an island) the water from his wet dark hair was slightly dripping down his toned back. You watched his beautiful tattooed body move as he was searching for his clothes, his tooth brush in his mouth.

You wanted to jump on him

He still hasn’t noticed your little stunt and you don’t believe he will until he gets into the bed

Law finally heads back into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth and change into fresh clothes

As he gets out, his eyes connect with yours immediately. Your gaze barely left his silhouette and he has been quite aware of it.

He smiles as he approaches the bed and he quickly kisses the top of your head. He moves the sheets a little to get into them, until he stops and look at you.

“What-…”

“What’s wrong?” You ask him with a smirk as you wrap your arm around his waist. Your chest pressed against his tank top. Law smiles

“You never really let me rest, you know that?”

“It’s just another way to relax” you say to him as you feel his cold fingers brush against your skin. His lips press against yours and with his other hand, he cups your breast.

“If you say so..” he whispers back before diving back into another passionated kiss.

Shanks

Your lips were hungrily attached to his as you two were caught in an intense making out session

It basically started off by some flirty comments from both side, a little kiss on the neck by Shanks and boom..

You found yourself hovering over Shank on the bed, desperately trying to get his clothes off

Then suddenly you got interrupted by a knock on the door, claiming they needed the captain for something

You two sighed frustrated and you got off your man and watched him leave horny and disappointed.

“I will be right back ok?” He reassured you with his familiar smile before closing the door behind him

You wanted to waste no time, so you took your clothes off, ready to just get right into it

As Shank opened the door again, his eyes fell on your naked upper body , leaving him confused at first, but it was soon replaced with a mischievous smirk

“So eager, are we darling?”

His mouth closed around one of your nipples , bringing a moan out instantly out of you

“Shanks please..”

“We have time, let’s take it slow”

He’s such a cocky teasing asswhole

we still love him

Zoro

He always ripped apart some pieces of your underwear

Last night your thong barely made it alive, few days ago your bra lost an arm, one of your pantie didn’t make it through the injury

You were two panties away from a penury of underwear and when you were sailing for days and days, you couldn’t afford that

So you had to protest in your own way, and it was now to sleep naked so he won’t rip none of your clothes off

Zoro walked into your shared room with a cocked eyebrow when he quickly realized what was happening

“What are- why are you-“

“I’m protesting!”

“Huh?”

“You carelessly rip my underwear off so I won’t sleep with them anymore”

He rubbed his face against his face before he broke in a silent chuckle. He smirked and looked you up and down.

“Sure, doesn’t seem like the big punishment if you ask me”

“Shut up and get to bed already” you spat back annoyed as you push yourself more against the wall to leave some space for him

“Who said we were gonna sleep?”

He smirked as he removed the sheets and pulled your body closer to him. He got to his knees and propped himself between your thighs.

“Let me apologize first”

4K notes · View notes

impeakcharacterdesign · 7 months

Text

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

4K notes · View notes