#Reflective Treat Bag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thevillainswhore · 1 month

Text

The Ties That Bind Us

Pairing: Ex-Husband!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: Even though Bucky is your ex-husband, you still have to see him often because of your shared son. But the heated tension, the spark that is still very much alive after your divorce, finally reaches its peak when you come home from your date.

Warnings: Mentions of divorce, small amount of angst, mutual pining, jealousy, kissing, smut, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink, p in v sex, derogatory names, spitting, happy ending.

Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne

“You look so pretty, Mama!” You caught your son’s reflection in the mirror, his bright blue eyes wide and in awe as you finished the final touches up of your makeup.

You were about to respond, but the words died on your tongue at the sight of Bucky’s large form rounding the corner into the bathroom. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over one another. “She absolutely does, cupcake.”

The intensity of his stare made you gulp silently, and you diverted your eyes back to your son.

Bucky had been doing that a lot recently —looking at you differently, more longing in his eyes than usual.

“Thank you, baby,” you said, ignoring Bucky in favour of showing your appreciation to your son. The knot in your stomach was wound too tight to try and unravel the conflict that ravaged in your mind. “You’re going to be good for your Dad tonight, aren’t you?”

Your son did his best to try and hide the cheeky smirk on his lips — one that resembled his father a little too much. “Of course Mama, I be a good boy.”

Unable to help the smile growing on your face, you brought him into your embrace, snuggling him tightly until he let out a loud squeal when you tickled his stomach. “I mean it, trouble. No staying up late and no ice cream before bed.”

Instantly, his puppy eyes fell to his father, an innocent pout on his lips. “But Dadda—“

“Sorry kid,” Bucky held strong. Glancing to you before looking back to his son, “Mama’s rules.”

“Oh, shucks,” your son sighed as you laughed.

From the outside looking in, the three of you seemed like a perfect family. Picturesque and ideal — white picket fences enclosing a home that was full of love and laughter, wholesome family dinners and celebrations for each loved one.

But things were never as simple as you wished.

The sobering thought made your laughter die in your throat, and you checked the time on your lit up phone screen. It was almost time for your date and you were wary of being late. “Okay, cupcake. I’ve gotta get moving so I can make it on time.”

“Aw,” your son whined, and you ruffled his hair as you made your way out of the bathroom. The air was knocked out of your lungs as you squeezed by Bucky, the scent of his aftershave he had worn since you first met him filled your nose and overtook your senses.

You barely suppressed a moan, a sinful combination that your mind begged you to inhale one more time, while another internal voice scolded you. The lingering touch of his fingers ghosting over your waist made it even harder to listen to sense.

Once you reached the hallway, you shook yourself and grabbed your bag from its hook by the door. The coat over your arm was warm and comfortable as you slipped it over your shoulders.

The telltale patter of feet over the hardwood floor bounced towards you, along with another set of heavier ones not too far behind. “Where you going this time, mama?” cupcake asked.

Smiling, you leaned down and tucked a stray lock of deep brown hair behind his ear. “Just for dinner, baby. I won’t be out long and I promise I’ll be back to make you pancakes in the morning, okay, sweetie?”

He nodded before stepping closer and tiptoeing up to whisper in your ear. “Make sure he treat you good because you deserve whole world.”

Tears sprung to your eyes, clinging on to your waterline. You blinked them away quickly before your son could notice.

Though, Bucky did.

You kissed his forehead, and leaned back to look into his eyes. “You got it, cupcake.”

Stepping forward, Bucky spoke up. “Why don’t you say goodbye to Mama and go get a movie set up, huh pal? I’ll be with you soon.”

Before your son left, he hugged you. “Bye Mama, I loves you.”

You smiled as he ran off. “I love you too, baby — and remember to be good!”

Only Bucky and you were left by the door, your blanket of comfortability was gone and you felt his eyes that held too many memories burning through you.

“You really do look beautiful,” he vowed.

Fuck, you internally cursed.

You tried not to look into his eyes while you fumbled with your dress. “Thank you, Bucky.” You quickly shifted the conversation. “If he doesn’t settle then text me, okay? My phone will be on loud and I’ll answer straight away—“

“As much as I— We would like you home, I’m sure we’ll survive without you for a couple of hours,” Bucky said, recovering from his hiccup smoothly.

Your gazes met — you had always gotten lost in his eyes and even all these years later nothing had changed.

Snapping out of your reverie, you shook your head and unlocked the door. “I’ll um— I’ll be back later.”

Before you could leave, Bucky caught your hand. “Have fun, Doll.”

And with all the strength you had, you delicately took your hand out of his, taking note of the tan line of where his wedding ring used to sit. “Bye, James.”

The date went as expected.

Your company for the night wasn’t a problem at all. In fact, this was the third date you had both been on together. However, the spark you had so badly tried to ignite through bland conversations and one already ringed out similar interest fell short.

Every date you had been on since your divorce with Bucky seemed to lack a certain something for you. Although in recent light, you had come to terms with the fact you that no one’s eyes had the same shade of blue you were familiar with. Or made your heart jump in your chest from excited nerves years after your first meeting.

Simply, you hated the fact you compared every single man to Bucky.

With a sigh, you unlocked your door, careful to make as little noise as possible as you walked into your home. It was quiet, almost silent, apart from those damned footsteps that eased the weight off your chest and yet caused goosebumps to cascade down the bare skin of your arms.

Bucky rounded the corner from your kitchen to the open plan living room, a glass of whiskey in his hand in the orange hue of the darkness, provided by a single lit lamp.

“Hey,” he greeted you, the expression on his face imperceptible. “How was your date?”

You cleared your throat, struggling to keep your composure from the sight of his tight black T-shirt and denim jeans that deliciously hugged his thighs. “Um yeah— it was— it was okay.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “Just okay?” He laughed. “Come on, give me more than that.”

You sighed in defeat. “I told him it was best if we didn’t see each other anymore.”

Unfortunately, there was only so much of a facade you could fake until it became noticeable to your date. It was an amicable decision with no hard feelings. But, it didn’t help to settle the confusing thoughts in your head.

Bucky took a swig of his drink, placing it on the hallway side table before he began slowly pacing towards you.

You couldn’t discern the look in his eyes, the way they feasted on your thighs or your waist. Backing up against the door until you physically couldn’t break free from the heat of his gaze, you could only watch as Bucky drew closer, right until you were a breath apart.

He brought an arm up, over the top of your head to lean against the door. “Any reason why?” he asked, a husk to his tone that granted you no favours.

A sudden pulse shot through your nerves, the ache between your thighs intense. It took everything in you to not rub them together. He would notice that you were sure of.

Desperate to escape what was sure to be a dangerous situation, you quickly slid out of his invisible hold and hastily made your way to the kitchen to pour your own drink. Bucky joined you only seconds later.

“How was cupcake?” you asked instead, attempting to switch the conversation to a safe topic. “I hope he didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

“He was good as gold,” he instantly replied, staring you down. A beat later, “He whined about the ice cream situation, but I promised I’d take him out for it tomorrow and he was out like a light — we had fun.”

You slightly faltered as you poured the whiskey into a second glass. You didn’t miss his small innuendo of spending more time together.

“Thanks for looking after him tonight. I know it was pretty useless anyway, but—“

Bucky trapped you against the counter as he placed his hand over yours, his deep baritone rumbling in your ears. “Don’t thank me for looking after my own son, you know I’d do it all the time if I could.” He took a deep breath. “If you would let me.”

No. You couldn’t do this.

You immediately dropped the bottle of whiskey onto the kitchen countertop, ripping yourself away from his touch to walk away.

Bucky reached out as he followed you. “Babydoll—“

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you scolded, fury in your voice.

Bucky however, wasn’t deterred. “Doll.”

“No—“

“Will you just—“ he caught you with a firm grip and spun you around to face him. “Will you stop running away from me.”

The two of you were out of breath from sudden adrenaline, harshly breathing into each other's mouths. The look in Bucky’s eyes was wild, untamed — tortured.

“Tell me you’ve never thought about it — us getting back together.” He gripped onto your arms, his eyes flicking between yours. “Tell me I’m delusional and I’ll walk out that door right now and we’ll never speak of this again.”

The ache in his voice broke your heart as much as the day you signed the divorce papers.

“Bucky—“

“Please.” He cupped your face with his hands, glancing between your eyes and your lips while his thumb slowly rubbed over them. “I’m a desperate man, baby. I’m desperate for you.”

You gulped, emotion bubbling over into your voice. “We broke up, Bucky. We’re divorced.”

He laughed wetly, but there was no humour in his tone. “And that means we can’t try again?”

The reasons for your separation seemed to blur under his stare. All the ways you weren’t good for each other leaving your mind and only making room for the good.

“Where the hell is this coming from, Bucky?” You deflected once again.

Your hands shook as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I can’t stand the thought of seeing you go out with another man again,” he whispered, painfully. “It’s killing me, Babydoll. It should be me.”

Tears rushed over your cheeks, you were too overwhelmed to hold them back any longer. You sniffled as you glanced down the hall where you son currently lied fast asleep and obvlious. “I can’t hurt our son, Bucky — I can’t.”

He smiled sadly at you, the crinkle in his eyes ever present but they only made you swoon for him even more. “There’s a reason all those dates don’t ever work out.”

You couldn’t hear it, couldn’t take what he was trying to say. “Stop it.”

“I know you’ve been holding back as much as I have.”

He was pushing you, like he always did and as much as you wanted to curse him, it was working. “Please don’t make me—“

The point of no return came in the form of your most hidden secret spilling from Bucky’s lips. “You still love me, Babydoll.”

Ice ran through your veins, hearing those words out loud that you hadn’t dared let yourself believe. Your mouth gaped open, unable to find the words to deny his accusations until your tether broke.

“Fine! I’m ruined for anyone else!” you shouted, frustrated and scared — a wild animal trapped in a corner. “You’ve ruined me — is that what you want to hear?”

His plump lips, soft and pink curled up. “It’s exactly what I want to hear.”

Leaping forward, Bucky crashed his lips against yours.

He was feverish as you both collided into each other. His hands, unrelenting yet gentle mapped out each and every slope of your body as you stood in the living room, feeling each other for the first time in years.

“Fuck,” he groaned between kisses. “Fuck, I’ve missed you, baby.”

Your head spun, dizzy with want. You hadn’t been touched in so long by anyone, never mind your ex-husband and your heart pounded erratically with nerves, excitement and longing.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, Bucky kissed you like he was starved, as though you were his only salvation. He ran his fingers through your hair, tugging it harshly to pull you closer to him even though there was no longer any distance between the two of you.

“You’ve got no idea how bad I need you,” he whined into your mouth. “Need to fuckin’— I just need you.”

Without you realising, Bucky had pushed you up against the nearest wall and even through denim jeans you could feel the hard shape of his cock while he unabashedly grinded against you.

You broke for air, gasping as oxygen rushed to your lungs. “You have me, Bucky.” He trailed sloppy kisses down your neck as you panted, desperate to stain your skin with any trace of him. “You can have anything you want.”

He growled, a sound that caused a gush of wetness to soak your panties. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to me, sweetheart.”

Ripping away from you, he grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the laundry room on the other side of your house. You struggled to keep up with his fast strides in your heels, but you just about managed as he shoved you through the door and locked it behind him.

His back was turned to you for a while and you stood nervously fidgeting, waiting for him to face you. His back rose and fell with breathless heaves, as though he was holding back — a feral beast ready to pounce.

“Babydoll,” he said suddenly, rough and graveled. “I need to know you want this before I fuck the shit out of you.”

Holy fuck, the mouth on this man. Your mouth grew dry while you struggled to think clearly in his aura. “I— I do—“ you stuttered, lamely.

He slowly turned around, a wolfish gleam in his eyes with adrenaline surging through his veins. He was tense as he took a deep breath. “Say it like you mean it.”

When you stayed quiet, too hazy to speak, Bucky stalked towards you, lifting your chin up to look him directly in his eyes. “Say. It.”

Closing your eyes, you cleared your mind and swallowed before whispering, “I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember my name, Bucky.”

He smirked, the kind you knew all too well — deadly. “Atta’ girl.”

You sqeauled as he suddenly hiked you up into his arms, hands under your thighs so he could place you on top of the washing machine. Laundry detergents and other products you didn’t care to take note of fell from the shelves around you as he pounced on you once again, devouring you whole with his sinful lips.

“Do you know how much I’ve had to restrain myself, Doll — Mm?” he pressed, covering every inch of bare skin you had to offer with his kisses. “How fuckin’ hard it’s been to not drag you back in the house and take you right then while you get dressed up for someone else?”

You did. Because you understood more than anyone the pain of having to force yourself away from Bucky when all you had ever wanted was him.

He unbuckled his belt, the telltale sound of the leather snapping against his hands and the jingle of metal sent bolts of electricity straight to your cunt.

Your mind couldn’t keep up, your vision blurry with the sudden turn of events. All you knew was that you needed Bucky.

“Hurry, baby. Please,” you whined.

Bucky groaned with delight, his eyes rolling to the back of his head while he bit his swollen bottom lip. “Oh, how I’ve missed you begging for me, pretty mama.”

Rushing to take off his belt, he slid the material through the loops of his jeans and threw it on the floor, not long after hurrying to unzip his fly and shuffle his pants down along with his underwear.

The tip of his cock peaked out of his black briefs and instantly you let out a high pitched moan, even shocking Bucky enough to look back up at you drooling over him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, slightly condescending. “Don’t you worry, Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

Bucky revealed the entirety of his cock, the length just as long as you remembered and the girth as thick as you had imagined in your nights alone with your toys that couldn’t compare.

The slight curve that you could feel the ghost of pleasure from to this day caused you to bite your lip and squirm in your place.

Without waiting for Bucky, you began shifting the bottom of your dress up your thighs, too impatient to wait for him to undress you. It gave you immense satisfaction when he followed the material, slowly revealing more of your skin. His mouth gaped open while he fell to his knees, the thud that sounded surely must have hurt, but there was no other expression on his face than greed.

You stopped your dress just before Bucky could peak at your red panties and you almost laughed when his head shot up, aghast that you had interrupted the show.

The power you held, you smirked. “You want more, Daddy?”

Bucky dropped his head onto your thighs, his breath travelling up to your covered mound — your eyes fluttered, though you kept your breathing steady to not seem so desperate.

Stroking your fingers through his fluffy hair, you murmured low, “Does it hurt to know my pussy is right here and you can’t have it?”

You felt his muscles quickly lock up, his head snapping up to you with a speed that was frightening and exhilarating all at once. The blue of his irises darkened, dilating as he chuckled, “You’re very much mistaken, sweetheart. Because this pussy right here,” he shoved your dress up, spread your legs and breathed into you. “She’s mine, baby girl. And you’ve kept her from me long enough.”

A chilled blast of air hit you as Bucky tore your panties from your waist and held them up. “You wore these slutty panties for that fucker, huh?”

You gasped in shock when he brought them to his nose and inhaled the gusset deeply. He grunted as he closed his eyes in bliss. “Cos’ I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s got you this soaked.”

Your keens amused him greatly. “Bucky—“

“That’s right, mama,” he laughed with pride. “My name sounds so damn heavenly coming from your lips.”

Bucky pocketed your underwear, not caring to be discreet and his thumbs came up to your cunt to spread you open to his eager eyes. “My god, baby,” he gasped in awe. Your hole clenched at the vulgar display. “You’re just as tight as the last time I had you.”

He tested a finger over your folds, running it through the embarrassing amount of slick that coated you.

“No one,” you breathed, shaking your head while willing your scrambled thoughts to formulate into words. “There’s been— there hasn’t—“

Bucky looked up at you from his knelt position, a small slither of vulnerability shining through his lust-hooded eyes. “Just me?”

You gulped and nodded, staring into his wide blues with honesty. “Just you.”

A moment passed between you. The charged air filtered down to that spark that had always been buried through the heartbreak you both endured in your divorce.

Bucky swallowed before placing a single kiss to the inside of your knee. “Then let me make up for that.”

You leaned your head back against the shelf behind you as his lips traveled up the meat of your thighs, yelping each time he gently bit you.

He murmured obscenities you could barely respond to as he edged closer to your pussy. You offered yourself freely, on a platter, as your legs opened even wider for him — the only man who ever truly owned you.

His lips whispered over your mound, a hint for what was about to come. “I’ve been waiting to taste you again for years.”

You moaned aloud, unhinged and unapologetic while Bucky licked a fat stripe up your cunt. Your nerves were alight with pure fire and you instantly grabbed onto the back of his head to push him further into you.

You didn’t care if the action was needy — one single touch of him and you were a goner once again.

He feasted on you, not coming up for air as he switched between sucking your clit and slurping your juices. “Oh my god— Bucky, baby you gotta— holy fuck.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Bucky wrapped his thick arms around your thighs and dragged you closer to him — all too happy to suffocate between your legs. “Sweet as a fuckin’ apple pie,” he murmured into you, the vibrations only deepening your pleasure.

Looking down at him, his eyes were homed in on you, watching your every expression. They were blown out, wild while strands of his hair stuck out in every direction.

Pulling away slightly, his heavy pants blew over your throbbing clit. “Daddy makin’ you feel good, Babydoll?”

You hardly had time to reply as he immediately shoved his tongue into your clenching hole and fucked you with it.

“Bucky!” you screamed to the ceiling. However, a harsh slap delivered to your thigh snapped you back to sense.

“You know that’s not what you call me,” he barked.

Whining, you corrected yourself. “Daddy, please!”

You felt his smirk plastered over your pussy as he hummed into you, “There’s my good girl.”

Your legs began to shake as you felt your climax creep to the surface and Bucky only doubled down with his sinful tongue that you somehow had forgotten he was way too talented with.

“I’m close,” you whispered as your vision began to blur. “So close — please, please don’t stop.”

Bucky continued his ministrations while your pussy fluttered around his tongue. Your release was within reaching distance and you gripped the washing machine, ready to let go until suddenly his presence was gone.

You almost fell forward before you caught yourself with your remaining strength. The pent up tension that was wound in your stomach hadn’t loosened and it took you a second to realise you hadn’t cum.

“W—what?” you mumbled shakily as you blinked your eyes open. Bucky stood there, his cock pulsing and viciously purple, with a smirk on his face, wiping his slick covered mouth with his arm. It disorientated you.

“I haven’t—“ you swallowed the dryness of your mouth. “You didn’t make me—“

Bucky’s cock bobbed as he closed the distance between you, dizzying you even further with a passionate kiss. “No I didn’t, baby.”

You whimpered in despair, the ache worsening. “But Daddy—“

“Nu-uh,” he breathed while lining his cock against your hole. “You’re only gonna fuckin’ cum when I say you can.”

Recklessly, Bucky pushed his full length into your pussy. You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into him as the sheer size of his thick cock winded you enough to wail out.

“Shit,” he cursed, a strain in his voice as he firmly gripped your hips. “Fuckin’ hell— Babydoll, how the fuck are you still so tight.”

Impatiently, you fidgeted. Whether it was to escape how full he made you or try and force him deeper into your cunt you weren’t sure. All of it was too overwhelming to process.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, tears building over your glassy eyes. “You’re too big— Bucky, I can’t—“

“Yes you can,” he declared with conviction while he lifted your gaze to him. “You can take it, sweetheart.”

Slowly, Bucky began to ease out of your cunt. His cock was coated with your wetness and he moaned deeply at the sight. He grinded back into you, his curved tip hitting every sensitive spot.

“There we go,” he brushed your hair back and kissed your forehead, praising you. “Taking my cock so good, Babydoll. Just like always.”

His touch was familiar, yet new — all consuming and claiming — and you melted into him, smothering his neck with a litany of kisses as he continued to gently thrust his cock into you.

“M—Missed you,” you confessed, drunk from lust and emotion. “Missed you so much, Bucky.”

The motion of his hips sped up as he began pounding into you with more force. “Yeah? You missed being a sweet little wife for me?” He taunted with an evil grin. “You loved being Daddy’s little slut, didn’t you?”

“Mhm— Always your slut, Daddy!” You sobbed into his skin.

His pace turned unrelenting, fierce after too much lost time. He fucked you as though he would be left out to dry after he was done.

Grabbing your cheeks, he leaned his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, Babydoll,” he grunted. “Don’t care who’s fuckin’ taking you on dates. You belong to me.”

Nodding your head, you fell mute, mouth gaped wide as you felt the knot begin to build up in your stomach once more.

Bucky looked down to watch his dick glisten with your slick. The obscene sounds created from the amount of your juices leaking out only caused his cock to throb. Your cunt squelched with each thrust he made. But it wasn’t enough for him.

Gathering saliva in his mouth, Bucky spat to where the two of you connected, groaning as it clung to your pussy and stringed out with his motions.

Your squeals of pleasure began to get louder as the coil tightened, “I’m gonna—“

Before you could rush the words out, Bucky pleaded, “Tell me you love me.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, more alert now. He didn’t falter, only fucked you with more abandon.

“Tell me you love me,” he repeated once more, a demand this time.

“Bucky, I—“

“I know you do, Doll.” His hips started to twitch, his telltale sign that he was also close to cumming. However, you had an inclination that he wouldn’t let himself go until you gave him what you wanted. “I know you remember how good it used to be. Let me come home and I’ll fuck you this good whenever you want.”

You gurgled around his fingers as he suddenly shoved them into your mouth, collecting the drool gathered on your tongue to bring them down to your clit. He didn’t ease them against you, instead rubbing tight circles rapidly, bringing you closer to the edge faster.

It was impossible to escape his dark eyes or the fierce hold of his hand at the back of your neck. “Feels so fucking good, Daddy!” you blurted.

“I know, mama,” he assured as he drove his cock into you even harder. “Your cunt feels like heaven.”

“I wanna cum,” you cried. “I need to cum.”

“You know what you’ve gotta do then, don’t you, Babydoll?”

You squeezed your eyes closed. The pleasure started to blend into a mix of pain and you were only slightly ashamed that it only turned you on more. “I—“

“Come on, baby. Give me what I want.” A few more punishing thrusts and you were treading the line of your impending orgasm. Your thighs shook violently and beads of sweat dripped down your chest. But when Bucky grounded out his next words, you fell apart. “Be a good wife for Daddy and tell me the truth.”

You couldn’t hold back any longer, the balance of your orgasm tipping over along with the truth you tried to withhold. “I love you, Bucky!”

Instantly, you felt the pulse of Bucky’s cock, a warm shoot of his load filling your cunt while you silently screamed and shook with the intensity of your climax.

Everything fell deaf to your ears as you fought to catch your breath, slumping against Bucky. His heavy breaths blew your stray hairs sticking out from the sweat gathered on your head while his hips continued to slowly pump into you from the aftershocks of his own orgasm.

You were brought back to the present with the gentle touch of his lips pressing against your cheeks, kissing your skin delicately. “Hey there, Babydoll.”

While you would have normally been nervous, the energy that he had drained you of allowed your inhibitions and walls to crumble, leaving you to smile drunkenly at him. “Hi,” you whispered.

Bucky checked you over, darting his eyes over your face. “You feeling okay?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, bringing your thumb up to swipe over his stubble you had always been fond of. “Freshly fucked and never better.”

The corner of his lips curved up, a small mirth of laughter escaping him. He licked his lips and you detected a hint of nerves that crossed over his features. “I um— I’m sorry if I—“

You placed your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him. “You didn’t go too rough.” Slowly, you brought your finger down, hooking it into the collar of his shirt. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Good.” He brought one of your hands up to his mouth to kiss the palm of your hand. “Good.”

The two of you barely noticed his length still deep in you. All that you cared for was the weight suddenly released from your chest.

“Did you mean it?” Bucky asked, cutting through the peaceful silence. He was defenseless, all guards down with a shimmer of hope twinkling in his ocean eyes.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and you inhaled deeply before you replied, “I did.”

He swallowed thickly, his emotion clear though his bright eyes. “I love you too — so fuckin’ much.” He nuzzled into your neck as your hand held him close to you. “I’ve missed you.”

A lump gathered in your throat once more. Breathing in Bucky’s scent freely, without guilt this time, you sunk into his embrace even further.

“Can I come home?” he whispered into your skin, a desperate plea. “I’ll do whatever you want — I’ll go to counseling with you, we can take things slow. I just need you back, Babydoll.”

The answer was simple. You knew in your heart there was no one else for you, no one better. No matter your differences, everything would always lead back to Bucky and you were willing to give the two of you a second chance.

“Okay,” you answered softly.

His head shot up, eyes wide and red from the tears you felt gathering on your neck. “Okay?” he repeated hopefully.

You smiled, kissing him gently on the lips before you muttered, “Come back home, baby.”

The pan sizzled on the stove as you cooked the last pancake, a stack already piled high on the counter next to you for breakfast.

Music played softly on the radio and you swayed your hips side to side, covered by a long T-shirt, while you hummed to yourself.

You were interrupted from your task when a pair of thick arms wrapped around your middle, hugging you from behind tightly. “Yknow, I could have had my breakfast in bed,” Bucky grumbled into your ear, his deep morning voice causing your eyes to slightly flutter.

You huffed a laugh before you mumbled, “I bet you could, greedy.”

The bristles of his trimmed beard tickled your skin as he playfully nibbled your neck. “Can’t exactly blame a man when his woman tastes so sweet, Babydoll.”

Your head started to feel heavy as you gave into his kisses, leaning back into his hold and opening yourself up for him.

“There’s a good girl,” Bucky praised you. “You just let Daddy—“

Peaking an eye open, you watched as his hand crept forward, about to pinch a pancake from the pile. He yelped as you swatted his hand away, a pout on his lips while you grinned.

“Nice try, Daddy,” you teased, smugly.

Before Bucky could retort back, a sluggish set of small footsteps sounded over the floorboards and you whipped around to find your son, still sleepy, making his way to the dining table.

“Morning, cupcake!” you greeted him cheerfully.

With difficulty, he climbed his way onto one of the chairs, huffing with the effort and sinking down once comfortable. He looked towards you, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Mornin’, mama—“

Frowning, your son looked towards Bucky, finally noticing him too. “Dadda?” he asked, confused.

“Hey, pal.” Bucky treaded, carefully.

Your son’s gaze fell to the lack of distance between you and Bucky, his hand still lingering on your waist. Keeping your composure, you waited nervously for his reaction.

“He treat you good, mama?” he asked all so innocently with a hint of fierceness in his bright blue eyes.

You watched with bated breath as Bucky stepped towards him, leaning over the table with his palm up to your son. “I’m gonna take good care of mama, “ he promised with sincerity.

Your son deliberated for a moment before nodding his head and reached out to hold his Dad’s hand. “Okay, can I have pancakes now?”

You sighed a breath of relief. “Of course, baby.”

It was silent for a moment, in your small kitchen while you plated up breakfast for your family. Bucky and you shared an intimate smile until your son spoke up once again. “Just don’t forget about the ice cream you promised me.”

Laughter filled the entirety of the kitchen, a home once again bathed in love — your perfect little family.

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x f!reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #Bucky Barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

lightsoutletsgo · 2 months

Text

pretty girl — op.81 (18+)

pairing: oscar piastri x plus-size!reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings: 18+ !! body insecurity, SMUT SMUT SMUT, ABSOLUTE UTTER FILTH; spanking, use of 'sir', creampie x 2 (don’t be silly, wrap ur willy !!), oscar eating you out after cumming inside you, squirting, light choking, Oscar has an obsession with calling you angel, wayyyyy too many pet names @jamminvroomvroom I'm not sorry in the slightest jas 🤭 enjoy! mwah ₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:･

You weren’t sure how it had started. Maybe it was the pressure online. Maybe it was the ‘fans’. Maybe it was just your own damn mind, but something was eating away at you. It wasn’t Oscar though. Never Oscar. He loved you to no end, treated you like royalty, looked at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky and created the moon with your own hands.

But sometimes even Oscar’s adoration and affection couldn’t stop the voices in your head from creeping in and planting the seeds of lies in your head; ‘he could do so much better’, ‘you’re not enough’, ‘you need to be better’, ‘you’re not worth his time’, ‘he’s with you out of sympathy’.

You pulled up your t-shirt and stared at your underwear-clad body. You frowned and glared at your reflection in the mirror, before poking your stomach once again. You turned to the side and noticed how much bigger your thighs were than they had been a few months ago. Your eyes were drawn to the stretch marks that decorated your hips and upper legs, courtesy of your body growing too quickly to keep up with itself. You spotted every single speck of cellulite or mark that made your body look imperfect.

You looked disgusting.

At least that’s how you felt.

You hadn’t always felt like this either. Once, there had been a time when you loved your body, your curves and all of your flaws. But dating a professional athlete, especially one as visually perfect as Oscar, meant you were prone to hate. It had started with a few small comments, that eventually grew into a whole flood of messages and abuse that just got too much. You had let it get to you.

You weren’t yourself anymore. Even you could see that. You didn’t smile as much anymore, and when you did, the smiles weren’t real. They were fake. You felt like you were living from one day to the next, not sure when you woke up the next morning whether you were thankful for that or not. You hardly left the house anymore. Your friends all seemed like the flawless poster girls and you were the odd one out. You’d even begun to push Oscar away from you, instead choosing to lock yourself away.

Skipping meals had become a regular habit and it was no longer uncommon for you to spend up to twelve hours a week in the gym. It wasn’t just your weight and figure though. When you were out with Oscar you didn’t feel like you looked good enough to be able to stand next to him, let alone hold his hand and walk with him through the paddock in front of all those cameras. Today was day three of you being completely incommunicado with the outside world, and Oscar was worried about you. He had called you and texted you but there was no answer. He called your friends who all said that they too were worried and hadn’t had any answer from you.

So there you stood in your underwear wearing one of the few of Oscar’s oversized t-shirts that fitted you, pulled up to your chin whilst you inspected and scrutinised your body. You hadn’t noticed the front door unlock, or heard the footsteps coming down the hallway. You heard your bedroom door open and you turned to see Oscar. He visibly exhaled as he saw that you were okay. But then he noticed. How red and puffy your eyes were from crying and how big the dark bags that lined your eyes were from lack of sleep. He slowly made his way across the room to stand in front of you.

You looked down at the floor unable to make eye contact. You felt embarrassed that he was seeing you in this state. You attempted to pull his t-shirt down to cover your thighs as you felt his gaze travel up and down your body. He grabbed your wrist, and brought it up to his lip as he kissed the inside of your wrist. He gently kissed up your arm and over your shoulder before kissing along your collarbones and up your neck. He stopped once he got to your lips and pulled back to look you in the eyes. His heart broke as he watched one single tear trickle down your face and then another and another until eventually your whole body was wracking with convulsive sobs. He pulled you into his chest tightly and held you close.

Neither of you were sure how long you stood there for, but that didn’t matter. In that moment, all you needed was him, and he was more than happy to provide the comfort you needed. Once your crying had subsided he led you to the bed. You both led down, his arms wrapped around you as you led on his chest. “Y/N?” He said gently, rubbing his hand up and down your arm to help soothe you. “Yeah?” You said sniffling and snuggling into him more. “You know that I love you more than anything right?” He said, staring down at you and kissing the top of your head. You gave a weak scoff, “Yeah right…” Oscar squeezed you tight “I do!” You pulled away from him and sat up “Why?” “Because-“ He started, “Because I’ll tell you why you shouldn’t. I’m disgusting Oscar. I’m fat, I have stretch marks and my thighs are covered in cellulite. I don’t deserve you Osc can’t you see that? Your fans hate me and it’s making me hate myself!” You finished, slightly out of breath and you felt a new wave of tears fall from your eyes. Oscar sat up so you were sitting opposite each other. “Stop.” He commanded, “I don’t wanna hear anymore of that.” He spoke almost angrily; you looked up at him to meet his gaze. He looked like he was about to cry too, “You’re beautiful, angel, can’t you see that?” He said his voice cracking as he reached for your hands, “So what if you’re squishy? I love that about you.” You frowned; slightly confused that this was your boyfriend’s attempt to comfort you.

“Angel, I will call you squishy and you will be mine, and you will be my squishy!” He said, quoting Finding Nemo as he squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout. You giggled at your boyfriend and he smiled, “I don’t care what my ‘fans’ say, they’re not in this relationship, it’s me and you. Your weight doesn’t matter to me. So what if you have larger hips? It just means there’s more of you to love. Plus…” he trailed off for a moment, hands moving down to squeeze your hips, “you aren’t gonna break if things get a little... rough.” He said winking at you. “Stretch marks and cellulite? Angel, you aren’t the only one who has them. Honestly you’re stunning baby.” His compliments made you look down but you smiled slightly, touched by his words.

“See, your smile is beautiful!” He said, gently lifting your chin back up to look at him. “Babe, I also know that you’ve been skipping meals, so how about we order some pizza and watch Finding Nemo?” he suggested, you nodded before leaning up to connect your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Oscar?” You said, as you broke apart, leaning your foreheads together. “Hmmm?” “Thank you.” You said sincerely before he pulled you onto his lap and began to kiss you again, his hands gently creeping underneath the hem of his t-shirt.

Oh well… The pizza could wait.

You sighed into his mouth as he gently bit your bottom lip, pulling away and tugging as his eyes darkened. “Need to see you angel… fuck please?” You nodded shyly, hands slowly dropping to the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing as Oscar’s hand comfortingly rubbed your thighs, tracing gentle circles with his thumbs. You hadn’t had sex in a while. Too terrified to let him see your body and too worried about your insecurities. The last time you’d slept together you’d asked to leave the lights off and keep your t-shirt on. Oscar had been confused and he had obliged then - but no more. He was determined to show you just how damn sexy he found you.

Oscar noticed your hesitation. “Hold on angel” He pulled away from you slightly to pull his t-shirt over his head. “Look at my back.” He turned and sat facing away from you as your hands delicately traced over the slightly raised zigzag marks that stretched over his back and shoulders… They looked similar to the marks on your stomach and hips that haunted you. “Y-you have them too?” Your voice was quiet and timid as Oscar gave a soft smile, nodding his head, “I went through a pretty quick growth spurt when I was in school and then another one when I got into F2… I always hated looking at them too… until I realised that they were a part of my body and a part of my story of how I’d grown, become stronger, learned what my body could do and what I was capable of.” Your eyes filled with tears as he turned back to face you, “Do you love me any less now you’ve seen them?”

You shook your head furiously, “Of course not!” “Then why do you hate them so much when you see them on yourself? Do you think I love you any less just because you have them?” Your eyes filled with tears once more as he slowly pushed you to lie down on the bed, crawling on top of you.“Because let me tell you angel… whenever I see them…” His hands dropped to the hem of your t-shirt, sliding it up to expose your hips and panties “They make me feel…” He leaned down to press kisses to the lines across your hips between each word,“ So” kiss “fucking’” kiss, “feral…”

“Your cute tummy?” He paused to blow raspberries on your soft stomach making you squeal with laughter “adorable!” “Your thighs…” He moved back down slightly to bite at them, making your back arch and a soft moan tumble from your lips. “I think about having them wrapped around my head about 7 times a day… and fuck angel…” He slid his hands underneath your ass and squeezed, “This ass? Might just take the title of world’s best ass…” You giggled as you reach down to cup his face,

“Actually baby I’m pretty sure that title belongs to Bottas” He moved up your body and paused as he thought for a moment before nodding, “True…” He nodded jokingly before leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. He left hot open mouth kisses against your neck and collarbones, making you squirm and let out breathy moans. Distracted by how good he was making you feel, you didn’t realise his hands were moving your t-shirt up until he sat you up slightly to pull it over your head.

You fell back against the sheets wearing just your panties as Oscar knelt over you, you heard him inhale through his teeth as he drank in the sight of your soft, plush body in his bed, “Wanna take you so badly angel…” His hands were everywhere as he grabbed your hips, your thighs, your ass, your breasts. Like he couldn’t get enough of you. “Touch me please Osc” He stared down at you, smirking slightly, “Where do you want me to touch you angel?” Your face grew hot and your heart rate sped up. You knew what he wanted you to say. Even after this long it still flustered you. “Want you t-to touch m-my pussy… p-please.” He cooed at you as his hand stroked your cheek, “Good girl…” One hand dropped to your pussy as he pushed your panties to one side, a single finger trailing up your slit, collecting the arousal already dripping out of you, finger moving to his mouth in an effort to tease you - it worked.You whined and shook your hips impatiently as he chuckled lowly, “I’ve got you sweet girl…” His fingers moved back to your entrance, slowly pushing one in as more needy whines tumbled from your mouth, “Please Oscar, want it, need it!” He smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your mound, “Fuck you’re such a good girl, you know that right? My. good. girl.” He emphasised each word with a curl of his fingers to graze against your g-spot. “Oscar- Sir!” He growled at your use of that specific title and pushed another finger in, head falling back in a silent moan at how tight you feel around his fingers. “You’re so needy for me angel, hmmm?” He pouted in mock sympathy, “s’okay baby I’ll take care of you.”

He leant over your torso, softly kissing your breasts and leaving pretty red and purple marks to decorate your chest along with your stretch marks, “So fucking pretty… should be in a museum or a gallery…” he mumbled as he admired his artwork, your arms moving to wrap around his neck, pulling him down until his forehead rested against yours. Your hips bucked up into his hand as he continued to thrust his fingers into your pussy, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit. He paused for a moment, growling at the way your panties got in the way “Oscar!” you exclaimed as he ripped them off of you, “I‘ll buy you some new ones angel, it’s fine…” He quickly pushed his fingers back into your tight hole as you felt a warm sensation growing in your lower stomach.

“That feeling good pretty girl?” He crooned down at you almost condescendingly as his fingers sped up. Breathy moans and whiney pants were all that left your mouth as you could feel yourself climbing higher towards that peak, the coil in your stomach threatening to burst. “Such a good girl for me, so sweet angel” Oscar growled above you, “Fuck! Oscar-” you wailed out as he leant down to bite your neck, teeth nipping, sure to leave a mark. “You’re mine angel… my pretty girl…” Those words were the last push you needed as you felt your orgasm explode. Your eyes shut tightly as your legs tensed up, thighs closing and locking Oscar’s hand between them. He chuckled at your out-of-breath form and pressed soft kisses to your hairline as he calmed you down, gently praising you. “Such a good girl, you’re so beautiful angel, love you so much…” You smiled up at him, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down to meet your lips, hot and passionate. “Want you inside me Oscar please!” You mumbled against his lips, he pulled back, stripping his lower half of his sweats and underwear, “Course angel... “ Your head tilted to one side in confusion when you saw him lie down next to you on the bed. He patted his thighs, “Want you to ride me pretty girl, wanna see my gorgeous girl on top of me.” You faltered as you heard his words, “I don’t know Osc I-” “Y/N,” he sat up suddenly, the use of your name showing you he was serious, “I want you to do this… Not just for me but for you too. You’re perfect my love… I love you because of who you are as a person. Your insanely hot body is just a bonus…” He grabbed your hands, gently helping you straddle his thighs. “So… come and take what’s yours angel…”

You climbed on top of him, sliding your wet cunt up and down his shaft which was throbbing against his abdomen. Hot and hard, you could feel yourself salivating at the thought of him sliding into you and stretching your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby, you want my cock in your pretty little pussy?” You whined needily, hands falling to Oscar’s chest, nails digging in slightly as you grinded even faster, “H-help please…” you begged. Oscar gently shushed you, one hand reaching down to grasp his cock and push it into you, “There you go baby, take your time- that’s it.” His hands gently caressed up and down your plush sides, gripping the flesh and relishing in the way his fingers sank into your soft hips and thighs. “Look at you… you’re fuckin delicious…” His head fell back as you sank all the way down to the hilt, a desperate moan leaving your lips at the slight sting you felt. No matter how many times you took Oscar’s cock, the stretch was always delectable. “Fuck! Your pussy is so tight… you gonna milk my cock angel?” You nodded desperately, starting up a slow rhythm, your tits bouncing slightly as your ass slapped against his thighs.

Between the two of you, the room was filled with the most pornographic noises, moans, whines, skin-on-skin and the sounds of your wet cunt. Your eyes shut as your head fell back, speeding your pace up. “Look at you… you’re a goddess, baby…” Oscar couldn’t take his eyes away from your form, a light sheen of sweat covered your body as your breasts and thighs jiggled with each firm slam of your hips. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut as your lips parted, releasing the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. How could you ever think you were not beautiful? One of his hands snaked down from your hips and began to rub your clit with his thumb, making your walls spasm around him. He growled out a low moan. “Oscar… Sir!” You cried out, “gonna cum!” You nails raked down his chest as you felt his thick cock reach deep into you, tip touching your cervix. “Shit!” Oscar hissed as he felt your nails digging in, desperately grabbing onto him in an effort to keep yourself from floating away. He grabbed your hips, lifting you up and down slightly to help you keep moving on his cock. “You close? Hmmm?” You nodded, flopping down onto his chest as the burning in your thighs forced you to give out, “I’ll help you angel don’t worry,” Oscar soothed you as his hands wrapped around your back, planting his feet on the bed to begin thrusting up into you. “You feel so so good angel, such a sweet little cunt…”

You mewled in response as his hips pistoned into you. “Please, please, please, please please- oh fuck!” Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, so sudden it overtook your whole body, feeling it in every limb from your fingertips to your toes. “There you go, atta girl…” Oscar crooned as his thrusts became uneven, he spilled into you, cock throbbing as his cum filled your pussy. “Milk my cock that’s it…” he moaned as your quivering cunt continued to spasm around him.

He planted kisses all over your face, making you giggle as his arms tightened around you. You led against his chest for a moment, head fuzzy from the intensity of your orgasm, before you realised you could quite possibly be squashing your boyfriend. You gasped and shot up to roll off of him but his arms stayed firmly locked around you, leaving you unable to move, “Oscar…” You struggled a little making him laugh, “Oh absolutely not sweetheart, you are staying right here, until I say so.” You continued wriggling much to his disdain and you whimpered as a sharp spank landed against your ass cheek “Oscar!” He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at you, “Then will you behave?” You looked away, face burying into his neck once more, “Just don’t wanna squash you…” Oscar sighed contentedly, “I love how it feels when you squash me though?” You scoffed and another spank hit your ass, slightly harder than the last. Your hips wiggled and squirmed and Oscar grunted at how sensitive he was, gripping your hips to still you once again.

“Easy there sweet girl…” His voice was right there in your ear and the closeness sent shivers down your spine, pussy clenching around him subconsciously. “Oh that’s it.” Oscar growled, sitting up with you still in his lap, “Wha– Oscar?!” “I’m not fucking joking around baby.” You looked at him, his eyes flashing with lust and you felt that fire ignite in your tummy again. Oh you were so fucked. He gripped your chin softly, lips hovering right above your own, “I’m gonna lie back down,” your eyes rolled back as you practically felt his words against your lips, “and you’re gonna sit on my face.” Your eyes shot open, “R-really?” His answer was placing his lips over yours, biting and sucking your bottom lip, his hands guiding your hips to grind in his lap as your hands gripped his shoulders, “Really.” He led back down and you whined as he slid himself out of you, his cum dripping down your thighs already, “Wait, but… you came insi–” “It’s my mess isn’t it? So I should clean it up.” You practically melted on the spot as he beckoned you towards him, “Now come here angel and take a seat… Every goddess needs a throne right?”

You giggled despite how serious he was being and crawled up his body until his face was right underneath your pussy. You knelt up, hands grabbing the headboard as Oscar traced gentle kisses over your thighs, hands grabbing your ass. You could feel his breath against your pussy lips and you clenched around nothing, another drop of his cum and your wetness dripping down to where his mouth was ready and waiting. He moaned at the taste of the two of you mixed together and decided enough was enough. Gripping your ass tighter he licked a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit, landing a quick little kiss against your sensitive bud for good measure.

You giggled out a moan at the feeling, but Oscar was frustrated, “Angel, I told you to sit on my face.” “I am!” Oscar rolled his eyes, “No you’re hovering… I told you to fucking sit–” His arms wrapped round your hips and pulled you down onto his face, moaning loudly as he was suddenly smothered by your cunt, causing a whimper to leave your mouth at the vibrations Oscar ate you out like a man starved, tongue fucking your pussy and nose rubbing against your clit as one of your hands flew to his hair, pulling and tugging as you couldn’t help the way your hips started grinding against his tongue, “Fuck. Yes angel…”, “that’s it”, “just like that”, Oscar gasped out between breaths as he drowned in your pussy. You looked down and gasped. He looked feral. His eyes rolling back as he licked and sucked every inch of your pussy he could get too.

He pulled you up for a moment and you panicked slightly, were you hurting him? He must have seen your expression because he was quick to run his hands up and down your hips in a soothing manner, “I need you to use my face angel, grind on my tongue, fuck my face okay baby?” “What if I suffocate you?” Oscar groaned, “What a perfect fucking way to go…” He trailed off as you dropped your pussy back onto his waiting tongue, following his instructions and grinding your soaking cunt back and forth.

The noises Oscar was making were driving you crazy and each growl, moan and praise had you moving even more enthusiastically. A loud whine escaped you as his nose caught your sensitive clit at just the right angle.You could feel it building in your stomach, rising up from your toes all the way to the top of your head. “Fuck Osc, feels so fuckin good…” You mumbled out, barely able to form a sentence. A grunt from Oscar told you he was happy to hear that, “Yeah? Don’t stop angel.” “W-want more…” Your voice was breathy as he continued to push you towards the edge, “What d’you need?” “Your hands on my ass… Please?” You begged, “Already touchin’” “N-no please… harder… wanna see your handprint on my ass…” You squealed as a heavy swat fell against your ass, “Oh my god Oscar, fuck yes!” You cried out, “More! Harder! Make me fucking take it, I’ll be so good for you Osc I promise!” You babbled out as you felt the way he made your ass sting over and over and you couldn’t help the way you grabbed his hair tighter as you felt him fucking smile against your pussy, “I’m gonna cum… Oscar…” You warned him but that only seemed to invigorate him, the most obscene noises coming from your boyfriend between your legs, “Fucking soak me baby come on… please fuck…” Oscar was practically begging into your pussy as your hips stuttered, head falling back as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Oscar groaned as your pussy leaked your orgasm into his mouth, leaving gentle licks and soft kisses over your clit to help you ride out your high.

You slumped to the side, not wanting to actually suffocate your boyfriend and your eyes widened when you saw how hard he was, his cock pink and pretty and throbbing. Oscar was unashamed as he brought one hand down to stroke himself, neck straining. “Can’t help it angel, it’s just what you do to me…” You watched, transfixed, as your boyfriend slowly and leisurely fucked his hand. You felt yourself salivate and you leaned forward, gently blowing cool air across the tip. You watched as it throbbed and leaked more precum. Oscar watched you through half-lidded eyes as you made yourself comfortable between his legs. “Having fun there angel?” You nodded, looking up at him and looking into his eyes, “Just wanna return the favour…” You pressed a kiss to the tip and giggled at the way he shivered and goosebumps ran along his thighs, “Behave angel…” You nodded, tongue peeking out from your mouth to kitten lick the tip. Oscar groaned one hand gently smoothed your head, “so fuckin’ good to me… but this is about you…” He sat up and gently cupped your face with his hand, “I love you, so much.” He said the words with so much conviction you felt your eyes get glassy, “I love you too…” His lips met yours more softly, more intimately than they had before. You felt his thumb gently trace over your cheek as you tasted yourself and him on his tongue. That thought drove you crazy and you found yourself pulling him closer to you as your other hand grabbed the back of his head and gently pulled the hair there. He moaned, a beautiful sound and his open mouth allowed you to slip your tongue inside, sucking and licking gently on his.

You pulled apart and noticed how your lips were still connected by the spit dripping from both of your mouths. God sex with him was always so hot. It seemed he still wasn’t done with you though as he indicated for you to turn around. You did so and caught sight of your body in the mirror. You gasped at how fucked out you looked. Oscar smirked as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. One hand sliding round your plush tummy and the other sliding up to gently hold your neck. He kissed your neck, “Look at you angel… my pretty girl, all fucking mine.” You leaned back against him and he smiled, “So now you’re gonna watch me remind you that you’re mine. You’re gonna watch how well you take me, how your body was made for mine, how pretty you look when I make you cum." He gently pushed you forward until you were on all fours.

You felt him line himself up with your pussy behind you and you felt like the air was knocked out of you as he thrust in in one smooth motion. He felt so much bigger, thicker, deeper at this angle. The look on his face told you he was feeling how much tighter this angle was too. His hands used your hips as leverage as he languidly thrust in and out of you. You hummed happily as you felt a sharp sting across your asscheek in the shape of his handprint. That reaction spurred Oscar on and your moans got louder as his thrusts got harder, pounding into you, his hips slamming into your ass with a satisfying slap.

Your head dropped to the comforter at the way his cock dragged against your walls, setting your nerves alight. He leaned forward over the top of you and grabbed your throat once more, “Oh nuh uh angel… look,” His eyes met yours through the mirror, “you don’t get to look away… just watch how pretty you look while I fuck you…” You couldn’t help the way your eyes closed, the feeling too good to deny, Oscar tutted loudly and stopped moving his hips in and out, instead circling them while he was deep inside you. You couldn’t make any noise, just let your mouth hang open. You shuddered and whined, desperately humping back onto his cock. “Oh fuck me angel…” Oscar’s hand quickly found your clit and you whimpered loudly, “I’m not gonna last much longer!” “Me either angel, it’s okay…” Your eyes shot open as you suddenly felt a familiar sensation between your legs, “Oscar…” you warned him, his head dropped to your shoulder as his hips began rolling into yours again, “I know angel, I feel it, it’s okay… make a pretty mess for me.” His head looked back up to make eye contact with you once more, “Cum for me angel.” He whispered and it was like a trigger had been pulled.

With a loud cry, your whole body shook. White-hot pleasure spilling over, toes curling and walls clenching tightly as you soaked your boyfriend’s cock and his hand, squirting all over the sheets below, “Fuckkkk angel yes yes yes just like that!” You felt his thrusts speed up as he pushed himself to another orgasm. His cock throbbed so hard inside you that you felt it and you hummed contentedly, filled up with Oscar’s cum once more. “Holy shit baby…” Oscar planted kisses down your back as he moved to pull out of you. You shuddered at the feeling of his cock pulling out.Oscar flopped onto his back and opened his arms, a silent invitation to cuddle, “I love you.” A soft kiss landed against your forehead, “I love you.” A kiss to his chest, “You’re so beautiful Y/N, I mean it. My pretty girl.” He squeezed you tighter in his arms and you giggled. “So,” he sighed contentedly, “how about that pizza?”

#mimi.writes #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 x plus size reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri imagine #f1 oneshot #mimi.thirsts

1K notes · View notes

gyupinkys · 4 months

Text

LIKE CRAZY

PARK SEONGHWA X READER

WC: 7.4K

WARNINGS: MURDER, YANDERE, VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC ABUSE, GORE, KIDNAPPING, DRUGGING, SMUT, power imbalance, questionable morals, unprotected sex, rough sex, heavy talks of breeding, creampie, oral, guided masturbation, possessiveness, very inaccurate medical terms idk what i'm talking about, lots of dirty talk, seonghwa is actually crazy...

Synopsis: Park Seonghwa, 25, charged with 10 Counts of second degree murder, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. You find his story hard to believe, seeing through his lies. As a new psychiatrist you're not sure you're ready for the anomaly you're tasked to treat

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the support!!! I love this fic <3

You love your job, you really do but moments like this make you question why you’re here. As you stand in the bathroom of your office cleaning the mashed potatoes your patient threw at you in a manic rage off your face, you question why you do this. As a psychiatrist you pride yourself in your patience, but you can't help but stomp your foot in a mini tantrum. You spent so long doing your makeup this morning and it’s all going to waste. You throw the final wipe in the trash and stare at your reflection. The bags under your eyes are much more prominent than a few days ago. You’ve been up all night trying to prepare yourself for your new patient coming today. Park Seonghwa, 25, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. He claims a “demon” took over his body, subsequently leading him to murdering 15 people across a 1 month killing spree. You don’t buy it. Something about this guy is off and the state made it your job to find out why. Your phone ringing snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Doctor L/N, the patient has arrived, we are transporting him to his room.”

“I’ll be right there.”

You take a deep breath and walk across the hospital to his room. You expect to hear shuffling and yelling but the room is eerily quiet. The guards in front of the door step aside and let you into the room, keeping a close eye on Seonghwa.

“Hello Mr.Park, I’m Dr. Y/N L/N, and I will be treating you for your stay here.” you smile at him., surprised by his appearance.

“Hello, Y/N.” he says, staring up at you from his place on his bed.

His curly black hair and plump lips suit him so well.

“I hope you adjust well, we’ve been anticipating your arrival. Breakfast begins at 8, so you are expected to be up and ready before then. Lunch is at 2 and dinner is at 7. Your therapy time with me is at 4 Mondays, Wednesday’s, and Fridays. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great” he says with a smile, showcasing his pearly white teeth.

“I look forward to working with you. My job is to take care of you and I promise to do that.” you smile.

You take a second to look at him, watching the dead look in his eyes. His smile says one thing but his eyes say another. With one last smile you leave the room, almost certain he’ll be causing problems before the night is over.

_________________________

You come in the next morning and check in with the nurses. Surprisingly there were no issues from Seonghwa, he even took his medication with no complaints. Maybe you had the wrong idea about him. You meet with several of your other patients, thankfully avoiding potatoes in your face again. It's 3pm when you take a break, looking outside your office window. You see him sitting at the edge of the courtyard, eyes fixed up at the sky. Four guards surround him out of precaution, but he seems completely unphased, eyes staring at the clear blue sky. For someone capable of such evil things he’s beautiful. His curly hair has grown quite long during his time in prison awaiting his trial. His eyes are wide and bright holding so many secrets. As if he can feel your eyes on him he looks up, directly into your office window somehow making eye contact with you. Your eyes widen and you quickly look away, pretending you weren't staring at him. It’s not uncommon for new patients to stick to themselves, often untrusting of the new environment. You can only hope Seonghwa will begin to trust you so you can treat him, if not you’re not sure what his future might hold.

_________________________

He is brought to your office at 4 on the dot, accompanied by the four guards assigned to him. He looks rather scared, the new environment keeping him on his toes. You welcome him with a wide smile that he doesn't return, instead staring straight at your shoes.

“Hello, Seonghwa.”

“Hi.” he responds quietly, reminding you of a scared child. You find it in your heart to feel sorry for him.

“How are you adjusting?”

He shrugs in response, eyes still on the floor.

“Can you look at me?”

He shakes his head no.

“Ok, that's fine. I know it’s scary here, I’d also hate to be constantly monitored, but we just want to make sure you’re safe.”

He keeps quiet so you continue.

“Tell me, do you like the food here?”

No response.

“I’ve only tried some of the patient food, well besides when it gets thrown at me. Last week Sandy with the weird haircut threw her potatoes right in my face, I looked like Ms.Doubtfire in that one scene.” you say with a laugh, gauging his reaction. He smirks but remains silent, you decide it might be best if you keep talking in hopes of making him comfortable.

“I’ve only been working here for about 5 months. I can’t say I’m settled completely. Some patients don’t seem to like me very much, hence the mashed potatoes. But I don’t let that discourage me, I mean if I was in their shoes I wouldn’t want some random lady talking my ear off. Well, I guess that’s what I’m doing now, I’ll shut up.”

He looks up at you with a wide smile, showcasing his perfect teeth. “Don’t stop," he says gently.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into here, I can talk for hours.” you say with a light laugh.

His eyes widen a bit, he looks at you as if he’s psychoanalyzing you, the roles seemingly reversed. You squirm under his intense stare, deciding to just start talking.

“How about this? If I tell you one thing about me, you tell me one thing about you?”

“Deal.” he says much quicker than you anticipate making you laugh. You hear his breath hitch, concerned you did something wrong.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. Start talking.”

“Ok, Ok. Hmmmm, Oh how about this, I haven’t finished paying off my student debt.”

“I could pay it off,” he says seriously.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure that violates many rules.”

“I’m not one to worry about rules.” he says with a smile, making your own fall. He quickly reacts, trying to soothe the situation. “That was a joke, I’m joking.”

“Noted.” you say hesitantly. “Your turn.”

“I miss my cat.” he says, sadly.

“You have a cat?” you ask in surprise. “I love cats, I have two.”

“Can I see?” he asks, scooching to the front of his seat, making the guards jump hold him back.

“You guys can relax.” you say and they let go of him.

You grab your phone from your desk, missing the way his eyes drop to your ass.

“They're named Brad and Chad. And yes I know those are weird names for cats.” you show him the pictures of your cats, seeing his body visibly relax.

“What’s your cat's name?”

“Matz.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Girl. I think my friend Hongjoong has her but I’m not sure.”

“If you give me his last name I can try to find out for you.” you say with a smile.

He leans forward again in excitement. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I know It’ll give you peace of mind.”

“Kim, his last name is Kim.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kim Hongjoong has Matz and says you raised a very disrespectful cat.” you say and slide into the chair across from him in the cafeteria.

He looks a bit shocked at your presence but he gives you a wide smile when he registers what you said.

“She was born like that, I had no part in her sassiness.” he laughs.

“Did he say anything else?”

“He said, “Don't forget to look at the sky.” and stopped responding after that so do with it as you will.”

“I really appreciate it.” he says and grabs your hand, making the security guards restrain him.

“It’s ok, let him go.” you sigh, understanding the guard’s worry, but also feeling sympathetic for Seonghwa.

“I’ll see you around, Seonghwa.”

“Call me Hwa.” he smiles.

_________________________

Seonghwa has made great progress, now only being followed around by two guards as opposed to four. He’s been much more responsive with you and willing to let you into his mind, but he refuses to talk about the murders. Whenever you attempt to touch on the subject he locks up and asks to leave. You think he needs more time to accept and confront his past. You know prying too much will only erase his progress. You’ve learned so much about him and he’s learned so much about you. He’s so attentive to every word you speak, constantly bringing up small details you forgot you said. You’d be lying if you said it wasn't sweet. Today you decided to try group therapy with him, maybe if he sees someone else sharing he’d be inclined to share as well. You’re also hoping he’s able to make a friend here, since he expressed to you how lonely he’s been feeling. You can see the shock on his face when he walks into your office and see’s San sitting on the couch. He freezes in the threshold of your office, his face morphing into something you’ve never seen before.

“Who is this?” he asks with venom.

“Hwa, this is San, he’ll be joining us today.”

“Why?”

“I think it’ll be a good change of pace. Now come on in and sit down.”

He slowly walks in, eyes never leaving San.

“So, I was thinking of doing a joint session today. I think you two can be great friends and what better place to facilitate this friendship than here?”

“I’d rather be your friend, or more than friends if you’re interested.” San says with a smirk.

“San, don’t start.”

“If you show me your tits I’ll stop.”

“I will write you up.” you deadpan.

He holds his hands up in defeat as you look over to Seonghwa. He’s sitting in his chair with a hard face and tense body. You want him to feel comfortable, understanding why he’s nervous.

“Hwa, San also loves cats. Why don’t you tell him about Matz?”

“I have a cat named Matz” he whispers, eyes never leaving you.

“I used to have a cat but it died. I was thinking of getting a new one.” San says with a wide smile.

“What kind of cat is your favorite?” Seonghwa asks, seemingly interested.

“I like cats that are nice and wet, even better if they're tight.” he says with a wide smile, showing off his dimples. “Can I take a look at your cat, Doctor?”

Before you can respond San’s on the floor, face being beaten in by Seonghwa.

“HOW ABOUT YOU TREAT HER WITH SOME FUCKING RESPECT.” he yells as his fist fly into San’s jaw. As the guards peel him off San and sedate him he’s staring straight at you, tears in his eyes.

“I can’t sit here and let him talk to you like that.” he slurs as the sedative takes over his body.

“Thank you, Hwa.” is the last thing he hears before everything fades to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You did a real number on San.” you say with an awkward laugh at your next session, trying to make him comfortable. He’s back with four guards after he broke San’s jaw two weeks ago. He was placed in a higher security ward inorder to avoid more altercations.

“He deserved it.” he whispers with an eye roll.

“Maybe, but we don’t have to solve our problems with violence.”

“I do.”

“Well, If I upset you would you beat the shit out of me?” you ask, trying to prove your point but hoping he will say no.

He leans forward and looks directly into your eyes. “Y/N I will never hurt you. I swear on my life.”

“That's good to hear” you say with a laugh.

“Ok, let's begin. I want you to write three things you like here and three things you dislike. I want you to start seeing the good in the bad.”

“Not much to love in this shit hole.” he grumbles.

“Hey, At least the chicken tenders they serve on wednesdays are good.” you joke.

You hand him a piece of paper and a pen, your fingers brushing making you clear your throat.

“Ok, go ahead.”

“You do it too.” he says with a smirk.

“How about I just write things I do like? ”

“Deal”

You write three things you like:

Chicken tenders

The sunlight

Seonghwa

“Ok, you share first.”

He clears his throat.

“I like my doctor, I like the girl I meet on Monday’s, Wednesday, and Fridays, and I like Y/N.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks tingle. “Well that's definitely something.” you say with a laugh watching his eyes light up.

You read out your list and watch his smile widen when he hears his name.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” you say with an eye roll.

“Oh baby, it already did.”

Your heart stops at the pet name, willing yourself to remain professional. He’s a goddamn serial killer you internally yell.

“Ok, now read the things you don’t like.”

“I don’t like Tuesdays and Thursdays, I don’t like San, and I don’t like your boyfriend.”

You choke on the sip of water you were taking.

“How do you know I have a boyfriend?”

“Your reaction just told me.” he says and you can see him becoming upset.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and frankly it’s none of your business.” you say, slightly annoyed.

He gives you a look you’re never seen before. You hate to think it but he genuinely looks insane. You’re suddenly thankful for the guards in the room.

“I think that’s enough for today.” you say. the guards picking him up and dragging him out of the room, his eyes never leaving yours.

You weren’t lying, you don’t have a boyfriend. Well, that’s because he doesn’t want you. All Chris wants from you is sex, claiming he’s “too young for a relationship”

You wish you were strong enough to stick up for yourself but that’s exactly how he likes you, weak.

As you sit at your desk you're puzzled by Seonghwa’s reaction. Sure, you've had patients crush on you in the past but they've never reacted like that when they found out about your partner. He looked almost… murderous? You write this in his file, concerned for both your safety and his. Maybe someone else should get assigned to him? No, that’ll only aggravate him more. You sigh, at a loss about this situation.

_________________________

When you enter your office you see an envelope on the floor, presumably slid under your door. You pick it up and see it’s addressed to you.

You open it and pull out a letter.

“My dear Y/N,

I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday. I guess I got jealous, knowing I can’t have you in the ways he has you. I can tell you guys aren’t in love. You deserve to be loved, in every sense of the word. I wish we met in different circumstances, I’d do anything to have you, to hold you, to love you. I’m sorry if I scared you. You’ve been nothing but perfect for me and I’ve done nothing but give you headaches. I’ll be better for you, I promise.

-Hwa”

Your heart softens. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you. You choose to ignore the parts where he confesses his love for you. That just complicates things. You decide to pay him a visit in his room.

You walk to the other side of the hospital, rehearsing what you're going to say to him. You stop in your tracks outside his door, hearing moans and groans coming from the other side. Is he ok? You press your ear to his door, only hearing more moans and whimpers. As you’re about to open it you hear him moan out your name. Oh. It doesn't take a genius to guess what he’s doing. It would be a lie if you said you weren't imagining his face right now. He’s already so pretty, he must look even better right before he comes. You bite the bullet and knock on his door.

“Hwa, can I come in?”

You hear shuffling and a meek “Come in.”

You open the door and pause. You expected him to stop but he’s sitting up on his bed with his back against the wall, cock in his hand. Your eyes stray from his face to his dick, hard and long.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No.”

“I’ll come back later.”

“No.” he yells, making you stop in your tracks.

“Turn around.”

As if you were in a trance you turn around, eyes trained on his large hands wrapped around himself.

“Can you come help me? It hurts so bad.” he whispers. “You’re my doctor aren’t you?” he smirks.

“No, this is wrong.”

“Then why are you still here? Why are your eyes on my cock rather than my face?”

“I-”

“Y/N, all I can think of when I close my eyes is you.” he says as he strokes his cock, looking into your eyes. “Your pretty eyes, your lips, your perfect fucking smile. You make it so hard to focus. I gotta come back here after every session to stroke my cock to you, I can’t help myself.”

You’re frozen in place, unsure if you’re even breathing. “Come wrap your hand around my cock, baby. Please?”

Your legs move before you can think this through, hesitantly wrapping your hand around him. He’s so big in your hands, you can only imagine how perfect he’d feel inside you.

“I shouldn't be doing this.” you whisper to him.

He wraps his hand around yours and guides you to begin stroking him, moaning at the sensation. “You aren’t doing anything wrong, just helping your patient.”

His breathing picks up as precum leaks from his tip onto your hand. “Baby, can I tell y-you something?”

“Yea.”

“I really wish it was your pretty little pussy wrapped around me right now.” he groans. “I’d treat you better than you could imagine, I’d have you addicted to this dick.”

“Hwa”

“Shh, keep going. You're making me feel so good, beautiful.” he breathes out, throbbing in your hand.

“Do you do this to your other patients? Or am I special.”

“You’re special, Hwa. You know that.”

“Do you do this for that ungrateful bastard you call a boyfriend?”

You freeze, but he continues.

“I know you don’t. If he treated you how you deserved you wouldn’t be here with me. I’d make you a queen Y/N, you don’t even have to love me back.”

You look at him in the eye, he looks fucking insane but you can’t find it in you to care. You crash your lips into his, feeling him suck in a deep breath before returning the same ferocity. The kiss is deep and nasty, nothing but tongue and teeth. You grip him harder and begin pumping him faster, desperate to see his face when you come.

“I want you to come for me ok? I wanna see how pretty you look when you feel good.”

“Yes, yes, ok. I’m gonna come for you.”

You hear him let out one last whimper before he comes, his seed dripping down your hand. When he’s done you bring your hand up to his mouth, watching him lick his cum off your fingers. You feel yourself clench around nothing, but you know you’d have to handle your little issue at a later time.

“So good for me, Hwa.” you smile, giving him one last peck before getting up.

He’s laying on the bed, looking completely blissed out, a wide smile on his face.

“I got the letter by the way. I guess flattery has gotten you pretty far.”

_________________________

You arrive home later than expected, getting caught up in some paperwork and losing track of time. When you arrive at your apartment you see none other than Chris waiting outside.

“Where have you been?” he immediately spits, slurring his words, making you roll your eyes.

“Why are you here?” you sigh, unlocking your door.

“What? I can’t come see you now?” he says, going to hug you, but you push him away, smelling the alcohol on his breath.

“Thought you’d be more interested in seeing Irene.”

“Y/N, don’t be like that. You and I aren’t together.” he says, getting aggravated.

“Thank God.” you say under your breath, unsure where this confidence came from.

“Come again?”

“Nothing.”

“No. Fucking say it.” he says, getting in your face.

“Chris, just leave.”

“Youre fucking impossible, Y/N. I don’t know what you fucking want from me. You get mad when I fuck other bitches but you talk to me like this? You don’t deserve me.”

You can’t help but laugh, turning to walk into your bathroom, which makes him even more upset.

“Whats so fucking funny?” he yells, grabbing your wrist a little too tight.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” you spit, trying to pull your hand away, but unable to due to his tight grip.

“You’re hurting me.” you cry as he tightens his grip and pulls you towards him.

“Imagine how much you hurt me when you act like this? You’re a fucking bitch Y/N. Why are you acting like this? Are you fucking someone else is that it?” he’s getting angrier by the second, beginning to scare you.

“GET OFF OF ME.”

“ADMIT IT. YOU'RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT AREN’T YOU? “

You yank your hand from his grip, only to be greeted with a sharp slap across your face.

You look at him with wide eyes, shocked at his actions. He seems equally as shocked as he stares at his hand then you.

“Sweetheart, I’m-”

“Get out before I call the cops.”

He rushes out, spewing bullshit apologies in his drunken state, but you’re having none of it. As soon as he leaves you begin to cry, the reality of what happened hitting you. You look down at your wrist, seeing his hand imprinted on your skin. You cry more, wondering how you got to this point.

_________________________

You tried your best to cover the small mark on your face, but the bruise on your hand was a no go. You just hoped the sleeves of your lab coat would cover the mark. You see multiple patients today, trying to keep up your usual happy persona but most likely failing. San is the only one who asked if you were ok, saying he “knows ways to make

You feel better.” Maybe Seonghwa needs to beat him up one more time so he can learn his lesson. Speaking og Seonghwa, you are nervous to face him after your encounter yesterday. You violated so many rules, if he were to snitch on you not only would you lose your job, but your license. You take a deep breath as the guards bring him into your office, two instead of four now due to good behavior.

He takes a seat but you’re not sure what to say. He frowns at the unusual silence, immediately asking what's wrong.

“I’m fine, Hwa. Just having a shitty day.” you say while subconsciously rubbing your wrist, bringing attention to it. He shoots forward in his seat and grabs your arm, pulling back your sleeve and looking at your wrist. The guards immediately grab him, but you signal at them to stand down.

“Did he do that?” Seonghwa asked, venom dripping from his voice.

“He was drunk.”

“That's not an excuse.”

“I know.” you sigh.

“That bastard doesn't deserve you. I hope he fucking dies.” Seonghwa spits.

“Hwa, don’t say that.”

“I want to leave.”

You nod your head and the guards lead him back to his room. You decide to head home, hoping a night out with your friends will clear your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa’s tells himself he’s doing this for you. Everything he does is for you. No one can lay a hand on his sweet girl and think they won't experience any consequences. He’ll be damned if this fucker lives another day. He watches Chris dance and kiss other women like nothings wrong, like he didn’t put his hands on you. Seonghwa can feel the rage flowing through his body, this is the feeling he gets right before he kills. He can’t wait to see the light leave Chris’ eyes tonight. He’s eternally grateful for Hongjoong finding this fucker for him, he knows he’ll avenge you tonight.

He waits for him near his car, watching him fumble with his keys.

“Excuse me.”

Chris turns around and sees Seonghwa standing next to the car parked behind his own.

“Yes?”

“I know this sounds weird, but I’m trying to dump my couch, but I can’t get it out of my apartment by myself. Can you help me?”

“Yea sure.”

Seonghwa couldn't help but smile, knowing what was about to happen. As soon as the pair enter Hongjoong’s old apartment, Seonghwa wastes no time and stabs Chris in the chest, watching him crumble to the floor.

“You think you can touch my dear, Y/N and get away with it? No one is going to hurt my girl.” he spits, rage consuming him.

Chris doesn’t get a chance to respond as Seonghwa plunges the knife into his chest, repeatedly, aiming for his heart.

“This is how my heart felt when I saw those bruises on her.” he spits, mutilating Chris’s body.

When his body is nothing more than a pile of flesh and blood, Seonghwa stands, changing out of his soiled clothes and exiting the apartment, leaving Chris’s body to rot.

He pushes through the crowds of the rowdy club, searching for you. He spots you dancing with your friends, looking carefree and happy, exactly as you should be. He smiles at the sight, falling more in love with you as the seconds pass. He wants to experience everything with you, he wants to marry you, have kids with you, die with you, and he will. He’ll make you his, he’ll fill you up with his seed and watch your body grow. He’ll keep you where no one can find you, make sure you’re his forever.

He watches you search for one of your other friends from your spot at the bar, hoping you’d make eye contact with him. When your eyes meet his heart stops. He watches your eyes widen, and confusion grow on your face. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re seeing correctly and when you open them again he’s gone.

He walks back to the asylum elated, happy he served you justice. He passes by the security who knows better to question him and the nurses who keep their heads down and mouths shut. There's nothing money can’t buy, and the hospital staff’s silence is definitely not one of them. He changes back into his patient attire and gets into bed as if nothing happened.

_________________________

You’re 100% losing your mind. Either that or Seonghwa was in the same club as you last night which is impossible. You've run through every scenario you could think of and you’ve concluded whatever you feel for him is becoming too strong. You’re considering transferring him to another doctor, the guilt you have from what happened two days ago is sitting on you. That was completely unprofessional and foolish, your risked so much because you’re too fucking horny. Not only that but you took advantage of him, you're in a position of power, you should've said no. You know you wouldn't be able to treat and diagnose him properly. But you also know he’d throw a fit if he gets assigned to a new doctor. This is all too much for you to handle.

Your thoughts are interrupted by someone barging into your office. You look up and see Seonghwa, eyes widening.

“Hwa? Why are you here?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Where are the guards?”

“Don’t worry about that.” he says and locks your office door, worrying you a bit.

“Seonghwa, you’ll get in trouble if they find out you’re here.”

“They won’t find out if you don’t tell.” he says with a smile, walking to your desk.

“Why did you need to see me?”

“I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. It wasn’t my place to react like that, and I know you were probably already stressed, I shouldn’t have added to that.”

“It's ok, don’t worry.”

“No, it’s not Ok. I keep saying I'll treat you right but I haven't. Let me make it up to you.”

You smile at how much he cares when it should be the other way around.

“And how are you going to make it up?” you say with a light laugh.

“Let me eat you out.”

Your eyes widen.

“Hwa. What happened was a one time thing. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Why?

“You know why.”

“I won’t tell anyone. No one needs to know, Baby. I love you, why would I jeopardize you?” he says, getting on his knees next to your desk chair.

“What if someone sees?”

“I’ll take care of them. With the way I’m about to have you, no one but me gets to see you.”

Your breath quickens. No way you're actually contemplating this. You watch as he turns your chair towards him and places his hands on your thighs.

“What do you say, Sweet girl?”

You nod hesitantly. He smiles up at you spreading your legs and running his hands up your skirt. He flips it up and looks at your pink panties, sucking in a deep breath.

“Just like I imagined.”

He puts his legs on your shoulder and pulls your hips to his face, running his nose along your inner thigh. He’s breathing heavily, his grip on you tightening. He licks a long stipe up your slit over your panties, teasing you. Your hands fly to his soft curls, pulling him closer.

“Please don’t tease” you whisper.

He begins to kiss your cunt, practically making out with it. He’s so sloppy with it, soaking your already soaked panties more. He pulls off your panties with his teeth, shoving them in his pocket before pulling you flush to his lips. He goes straight for your clit, sucking harshly. He's moaning into your cunt, lapping at your pussy like it's the last he’lll ever eat.

“So good, Baby. You taste so fucking goof. The best I’ve ever had.”

He runs two fingers through you, wetting them before easing them inside.

“Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You can only moan in response, trying to control your volume.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s so good, Hwa. Feels so good.”

“Is it better than that fucker Chris?”

“Yes, so much better.” you moan out, not having enough brain power to question how he knows chris. All you can focus on is his soft tongue running through you and his fingers hitting all the spots you need.

Your back arches as you feel your orgasm coming. “Give it to me baby. I deserve it,I’ve been so good to you.” he speaks into your cunt, his fingers never stopping.

You look down into his wide eyes and see so much emotion in them. He’s so fucking pretty, just the thought that this is the man eating you out makes you let go. Grabbing his hair harshly and somehow pulling him closer as you soak his face. He keeps sucking and licking your clit, slowing the pace of his fingers. When it gets too much you yank his head back, out of breath.

“Fuck, Hwa. That definitely made it up to me.” you laugh, blissed out.

“I’m glad.” he laughs, licking his fingers clean before standing up and kissing you.

“I can make you feel even better.” he smiles, testing his luck.

“Nice try. Can I have my panties back?”

“No can do.” he smiles, kissing you one more time before backing up, helping you put your clothes back in place.

“I’ll see you four, Love.” he says with a wide smile.

“Actually, I need to cancel our session, something came up.” you say solemnly watching his smile drop. All the guilt from before it you once again. You can’t keep doing this. He’s you patient for fucks sake, you can’t fuck him. This is wrong on so many levels.

“So when am I going to see you instead?”

“I’ll let you know.” you say with a frown.

“Oh, Ok. Have a nice night, Y/N.”

“You too, Hwa.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa can feel something's off. He thought after he ate you out you’d realize you feel the same way about him. But he could tell it had the opposite effect. He tries to sleep but all that's on his mind is you. He looks at the clock on the wall, it's well past 4am, you should definitely be gone. He gets up and opens his door, seeing the guard on night duty fast asleep. He walks to your office and uses the master key he stole from the janitor to unlock the door. He walks over to your desk and scans the papers littering it. He sees a printed out email from your supervisor, listing reports made about you from other patients. Other patients claim you show him favoritism? He knows San was behind this. They claim patient reports you write for him are much more detailed and that's somehow proof of favoritism? You eating lunch with him is somehow inappropriate? He laughs at this, they really have no idea how inappropriate your relationship has gotten. He continues reading, Your supervisor claims he’s showing no improvement and has requested a new doctor for him. He can feel the anger coursing through his veins but he wills himself. He’ll be damned if they try to take you away from him. His months of planning will not go to waste. He’ll live out all his dreams with you, there's no way he won’t.

He walks out of your office, filled with rage. He can’t believe this. He can only imagine how crushed you are. He knows you love him, even if you don’t know it. He knows you’re probably at home distraught. He owes it to you to make sure you two remain together forever.

He goes back to his room, but he still can’t sleep. He stares at the ceiling, imagining your pretty face in an attempt to calm his spirit. He’s rudely interrupted by his door opening. He looks at the clock and sees it's somehow 8am. Time flies so fast when you're on his mind. In walks another doctor he’s seen around the hospital. There's no way this happened so quickly. He can’t believe this. He sees the man speaking to him but he’s not hearing anything besides the ringing in his ears.

“I want Y/N to be my doctor.”

“Unfortunately, she can’t. She hasn’t been making much progress with you. We're hoping a more experienced doctor like myself can help you more than she can.”

He looks at him blankly. He feels himself slipping away. His hands clench and reach under his pillow, grasping his knife as the doctor reads from his clipboard. He won’t let someone speak about you like this. He won’t let them take you away from him. He grabs the doctor's hair and slits his throat, sawing through the man's blood vessels until he falls limp. A guard runs in and attempts to wrestle the knife out of his hands but he overpowers him, plunging the knife into his chest repeatedly. Seonghwa’s fuled by blind rage, no one will stop him from avenging your honor. How dare they speak of you like this as he kills the fourth and final guard to come in. He hears alarms blaring in the distance and looks at the clock. It's 9:05 am, he can feel you on your way to him.

_________________________

The blaring of the alarms push you to run faster, entering the high security section of the hospital. The commotion from down the hall gets louder as you approach his room. You come to a halt as you see a stream of blood running down the hall, coming from beyond his door. A loud thud from inside his room breaks you from your trance, you push open the door, seeing the bodies of guards surrounding his bed.

“Hwa” you gasp, eyes trained on the battered bodies. “What did you do?” you breathe out, finally looking up at him.

He looks up at you from across the room, eyes wide and bloodshot.

“What did I do?” He laughs maniacally. “Y/N, This is your fault. I did this because of you.” he says as he begins to approach you.

“THEY TRIED TO KEEP ME FROM YOU!” He yells. “You were supposed to take care of me. YOU PROMISED!” He traps you against the wall next to the door. “Isn’t that your job? Nurse me back to my right state of mind? Figure out what's wrong with me? But you didn’t do that. No,no, no you just made me fall in love with you, you made me want you! So don’t act like this is my fault.” he says as he lightly drags the knife across your throat.

“No ones going to keep me away from you, my love.” he whispers into your ear. He leans over and locks the door before looking back at you.

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

“No.” you answer with full confidence.

He smiles at you, but it's not the same smile your Seonghwa gives you. You don’t know who this is.

"I want my Hwa back, I don;t like you like this.”

“I am your Hwa, Baby. I did this for you Y/N. Don’t you see how much I love you?” he says, dropping the knife and kissing down your neck.

“I know, Hwa.” you sigh heavily, feeling his cock hardening against your stomach.

“Say you love me too. I know you do.”

Do you love him? Can you love someone who’d do this? The longer you stay quiet the more upset he gets. “It's ok baby. I’ll love you enough for the both of us.” he sighs. “One day you’ll realize how much you love me.”

He runs his hands down your body, squeezing your ass. He flips you around, pressing your chest to the wall.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N. I’ll be all you think about for the rest of your life.”

He shoves your pants down and rips your panties off you, rubbing his fingers through you. “Fucking hell, you’re a filthy fucking liar. You do like me like this, look how wet you are.” he says bringing his soaking fingers in front of your face. Your breath quickens, seeing evidence of how wet you are.

“Just fuck me, Hwa.” you groan.

He pulls out his hard cock and rubs his tip through you. “I’ll make you mine, Y/N. You’ll let me cum in you right? Own this pussy”

“Yes, Hwa. Please.”

He lines himself up and slides in slowly, gripping your hips tightly at the sensation.

“F-fuck, Baby. You feel so good, the best I’ve ever had.” he moans out. He fills you up completely, stretching you so painfully but not nicely. You savor the pain, it reminds you of how taboo this is, how much you deserve to feel pain. Youre letting this psychopath fuck you in a room full of bodies, your colleagues blood on your body doing nothing but turning you on. You deserve to feel pain, but he turns that pain into pleasure with the first thrust. It’s like your pussy was made for him, you fit together perfectly. You can feel him in your stomach, so deep inside you, you can feel yourselves becoming one. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you harshly.

“I’ve dreamt of this for so long. I’ve fucked my fist imagining it was this pussy. You couldn't even imagine all the nasty things I’d do to you, Bbay. I’d hurt you so bad but you’d love it, you’d beg me for more. B-beg me to make you mine.”

He pulls out quickly and flips you around, hiking you up the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slides back in, fucking into you while staring into your eyes.

“I need to see that pretty face when I breed you. I have everything planned out for us, Y/N. There's a beautiful house waiting for you, so many rooms to fill up with our beautiful babies. I know you’d be a great mother, my perfect little housewife.”

He picks up his pace, feeling you clenching around him, but desperate to come together.

“I’d keep you full of my seed all the time, my love. You’d always feel me dripping out of you, I’d keep you nice and round with my babies for as long as I can. You want that don’t you? You wanna be my slutty little cum dump?”

You can barely answer him, let alone breathe. He’s hitting it so deep, you feel like your on another planet. You look down into his eyes and nod, mesmerized by his beautiful brown eyes. You’d let him do anything he wanted if it meant you felt like this forever.

“Cum for me, my love. I’m going to fill you up so nicely, ok?”

You let go, clamping down on his cock and hearing his deep groan. His warm cum fills you up to the brim, leaking out of you, despite the vice-like grip your cunt has on him.

“So fucking tight and warm, baby” he blabbers, shallowly thrusting his seed back into you. He pulls you in for a kiss by your neck, claiming your mouth as his own. You pull back for air, giving him a blissed out smile. The words he so badly wants to hear hang on your tongue but you can’t give it to him yet.

“I know, baby. You don’t have to say it, I already know.” he whispers against your lips and sets you down.

He helps you fix your clothes and begins to pull you out of the hospital. As you see the chaos ensuing, the reality of the situation hits you.

“Hwa, where are you taking me?”

“Hongjoong is outside we gotta go before the cops come.”

“Wait, what?” you pull back from him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Y/N, now's not the time.” he growls.

“Tell me what's going on.”

“You really think I was going to stay in this shit hole forever? Y/N, I’m not fucking crazy, I killed those people on purpose. The only reason I’m not rotting in jail is because I paid off the judge. I was planning my escape from the moment I got here but I only stayed this long because of you. So let's go.”

His words break you from your trance. This man is actually insane. You begin backing away from him but he gets visibly upset. “Y/N, don’t try this shit with me. You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

The dim lighting of the hallway and red lights from the alarms make him look sinister. For the first time you feel afraid of him.

“I don’t want to go with you, Seonghwa.”

He looks at you blankly before grabbing you harshly. “

“I didn’t want to do it this way, Y/N. I wanted us to be happy, but if I have to force you to want me, so be it. He pulls out the sedative he took from one of the guards and pulls off the cap with his teeth. “You’ll be mine forever Y/N. That baby growing in your belly is proof enough.”

He sticks the syringe into your neck, releasing the chemicals into your body. You feel the drugs immediately kick in, falling limp in his hold.

“Hwa, please don’t.” you whimper.

He caresses your face with a pout. “Don’t worry, Baby. You’ll love me eventually, I’ll make sure of it.”

He flashes you a wide, beautiful smile before everything fades to black.

#ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa smut #yandere ateez #yandere kpop #yandere seonghwa

1K notes · View notes

stayinlimbo · 1 month

Text

cat walk

pairing: lee minho x reader ft. soondoongdori requested?: yes; 100 followers celebration genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, i am only using my own cat experience, lowercase intended, slightly unedited word count: 935 note: thank you @infinity-tiny for the request. i definitely took some creative liberties with it but i hope you still like it ♡

if anyone had asked minho what he thought he’d arrive home to on a seemingly normal friday evening, he probably would’ve described his typical welcoming committee consisting of you shouting out a “hey min!” from somewhere in the living room or kitchen, and, if he was lucky, his cats poking out from their usual hiding spots to greet him.

it most certainly wouldn’t have been this, yet here we are.

minho’s hand hasn’t even released the front door handle before soonie’s pleading eyes bore holes into his soul. the cat’s large body is draped comfortably over your shoulder, but minho can tell that soonie would rather be literally anywhere else than where he currently is.

the sound of rustling diverts minho’s attention towards the ground next to your feet. doongie’s sprawled out form rubs against a pair of shoes strewn to the side of the entryway as he noisily meows at the sight of his owner’s (father’s) figure barely stepping past the threshold.

minho flicks his eyes back up as soft clicking noises reverberate around the narrow hallway, watching the final child hesitantly making his way towards your free, outstretched hand holding his favorite treat.

“what are you doing?”

dori’s cautious steps halt at minho’s voice, making you quietly groan out in frustration.

“hey min, happy to see you, now shhh for a minute please,” you hastily whisper, gaze focused on the brown tabby. the soft clicking resumes and dori finally comes close enough for you to scoop him up in your arms alongside his older brother.

you whirl around to face your boyfriend, who at long last has properly entered the house and closed the door. a radiant grin illuminates your face at the sight of him. if minho’s being honest, it tugs at his heartstrings a bit. you missed him and you’re so happy to see–

“hold soonie and dori for me, will you? i need to grab this bag real quick,” you rush out, not giving him much of a choice as you’re already transferring the two cats into his arms.

okay, so maybe not.

minho watches you jog over to a bag he didn’t see at the end of the hall, laughing at the tiny slip in your footing when you turn around to come back towards him. you plop down next to doongie, giving him a quick pet before fishing in the bag and pulling out a leash and a cat-sized reflective vest.

hold up.

“you didn’t,” minho blanches, watching you put doongie’s head and paws through the green vest’s openings, hooking the leash to the rings that are now attached to the cat’s back.

“i did. soonie,” you reply, reaching up for your next (unwilling) participant. minho crouches down next to you, reluctantly complying with your demands.

“you’re going out now?” he questions. poor soonie is not as cooperative as his younger brother, and it takes everything within minho to not save him out of pity for what is to come.

“yes, they’re more frisky in the evening—dori—so i thought ‘why not?’”

“but it’s dark outside,” minho tries to reason, passing you the final feline. it’s of no use, you are too far gone.

“that’s what the reflective vests are for. duh,” you counter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile as you let dori leap out of your hold. “there, don’t they look ready for the outdoors?”

the cats are all sprawled in different positions on the floor. soonie still looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doongie is preoccupied with swatting the bag now, and if dori could make himself any smaller, he would turn into a perfectly shaped ball.

no, ready isn’t the word minho would use.

you must see the hesitance still lingering behind his eyes because this time you sift through the bag to retrieve a human-sized reflective vest and pull it over your sweatshirt.

“if it makes you feel any better, i’ll be wearing this the entire time with them to be extra safe. please, please, please let me try this,” you beg, looking at him with your best imploring eyes.

minho has to give it to you, you’ve gotten better at this. you must’ve been practicing after the last time he told you “no” to something he can’t even remember at this point.

he lets out a sigh at your unwavering gaze, finally giving in to your pleas. “...did you at least get me one?”

“of course i did, who do you think i am?” you scoff lightly, digging through the bag and extending your hand towards him with his very own green reflective vest.

as minho slips on what, in his opinion, is the ugliest vest he’s ever seen in his life, he can’t help the smile blooming on his face growing wider. although this may be one of the weirdest methods (and he means it) you’ve used to get the family all together, he can see the commitment and energy you put into making sure everyone would be safe.

you don’t need to know right now that he tried this years before he met you and that the cats will give up entirely about ten steps away from the walkway. he’ll let you discover that on your own.

and as you call “hurry up, let’s go!” to him halfway out the door with soonie and dori in your arms, doongie trailing slowly by your feet trying to bite the loose leash dangling in front of his face, minho knows he wouldn’t trade this for the world. not when he has the ones he loves most all in one place.

────────────────────────────────────────────

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz

693 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Follow You Anywhere 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: I couldn't help myself.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."

You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.

You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."

You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad. You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.

"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."

You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.

"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.

You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.

"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."

You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.

You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.

“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…”

You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.

You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…

“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.

You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.

A message?

You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.

‘Looked delicious too.’

“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”

‘Don't mean the toast.’

The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.

“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”

You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.

“How about some tunes?”

You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.

‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?

“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”

You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.

You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.

You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.

“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”

You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.

🧸

You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.

The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.

The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.

You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.

You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.

As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.

You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.

🧸

You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.

You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.

You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.

You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.

A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.

'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.

You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.

'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.

You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.

🧸

You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.

The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.

"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.

As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.

You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.

You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.

"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."

All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.

You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.

As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.

"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.

You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.

"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."

You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?

"You like sweet stuff."

"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.

He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.

You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.

"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.

"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."

You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.

"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.

"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.

"I could drive you. I have a truck."

"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.

"Why not?"

"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"

"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."

"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"

"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."

"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."

"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'.

“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."

"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."

"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.

"That's nice but--"

"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."

You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.

"BourbonBear?" You ask.

"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”

#dark!captain syverson #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #follow you anywhere #sandcastle #captain syverson #dark captain syverson #captain syverson x reader

511 notes · View notes

faithums · 3 months

Text

…shopping with jjk men—> ੈ✩‧₊˚

✎ synopsis: what happens when you decide to agree to go shopping with these boys, but shopping doesn’t exactly happen…

inclu. gojo, nanami, megumi, choso, yuji, toji, inumaki, geto

╰┈➤ gojo saturo

of course he takes you to a bougie mall just so show off his wealth. what can he say; actually wait, he does know what to say- he calls himself a ‘philanthropist’ (putting that lightly) because he once gave a kid on a playground a half eaten krispy kreme. he takes you in all of the shops, bombarding you with a plethora of new designer items, he really does too much…

“Saturo-,” you couldn’t really speak coherent words as your boyfriend was currently picking out several different items of jewellery and placing them infront of you. They were all so beautiful; silver plated with diamond crusted attachments, which glistened in the reflection of the glass chandelier. He had dragged you to a very, expensive jewellers, and was insistent of you- well him- making a purchase.

“Shush. You’re getting at least one thing.” He quickly shut down your rebuttal as per without hesitation. Then carefully, he lifted your wrist up, dragging the enticing metal over it, tracing the subtle contours of your forearm. The sudden cold contact made your breath hitch slightly, but the worst thing was the price… You were shocked- to say the least. Why did the woman in-front of you let him behave in this childish way.

“What the hell.” A whisper spilled from your lips, “Saturo this is extortionate, I can’t have this. It’s just daylight robbery- I’d be too scared to wear it out.” Small protests were made but he just kept on and on, yapping to the sales clerk beside him about the insurance of the pulchritudinous bracelet. The fact that it had insurance was a crime in itself.

“‘Nnnnnd that’s what… like two ish grand? Okay okay. Bare with-,” Gojo’s arms were slung into his pockets, rummaging for his wallet. He is so nonchalant- too nonchalant about this… Sooner than later, the transaction had been completed and you had another bag in your hands. The hummed to himself as he watched you struggle to hold like what, 10 ish (maybe more) bags. It was funny, you could tell which ones you’d brought yourself, as you had some PRIMARK bags, yet some Tiffany & Co. bags (i wonder who brought which ones…). It was nice to treat yourself, but him spoiling you most days- you felt somewhat guilty.

“Saturo. Can I get you anything in return? If there’s anything you want, I mean- I know I don’t have as much as you bu-,” your ramblings were cut short by Gojo’s immediate response.

“Hm. I can only think of one thing if I’m honest,” he pondered suspiciously, putting his hand on his chin like a childish idiot.

“What.” You replied with a smile creeping up your cheek as his arm slithered around your waist; taking some of the weight from the bags in the process.

“Backshots.” He grinned smugly.

A grimace formed on your face, knowing full well what would happen when you two returned home. After all, if gratitude can be free- then backshots it is.

╰┈➤ nanami kento

a gentleman, through and through. his patience shines when he is with you: helping you declutter your thoughts, calming you down. he takes time for you, and especially with you. he loves seeing you immersed within the clothes you surround yourself in, not interested in anything but you. he really is a gift too pure for this world…

Nanami promised to take you to the mall today, so here you were. The morning sun cascading down your neck, it heating up your skin ever so subtly, creating a comforting warmth. You found yourself strolling hand in hand with him. The air still alive with possibilities and the hun of excitement.

The boutique stood out like a beacon of elegance admits the bustling mall, it’s exterior adorned with intricate wrought iron accents and tall, gleaming windows that showcased the latest fashion wonders like prized jewels in a treasure trove. Upon entering, a wave of opulence washed over you, enveloping you in a cocoon of luxury (that you wished lasted a lifetime).

As you navigated through the labyrinth of silks, your fingers grazed over sumptuous fabrics, each touch eliciting a sense of delight. No wonder Nanami decided to take you here. It’s very fancy- to say the least. The ambiance was one of sophistication and refinement, yeah, this is Nanami territory.

You decided to chose out a dress, on Nanamis behalf (he said it was ‘his treat’), so now you’re stood before a full-length mirror examining yourself and if this was nice, or not…

The soft, velvety fabric of the black king dress was dripping down your figure, you couldn’t help but feel a path of uncertainty fluttering within the depths of your heart. The dress, with its sleek silhouette and subtle shimmer, represented the shop at its peak. Yet you gazed at your reflection, doubts crept in like shadows in the moonlight.

Your fingers traced the delicate embroidery adorning the bodice, the intricate patterns seeming to dance beneath your touch. You shifted uneasily, the fabric clinging to your form in a way that felt both foreign and unfamiliar. A flicker of insecurity danced in your eyes as you searched for reassurance within the depths of the mirror- yet none was found.

Beside you, Nanami, your Kento. He stood tall, with an unwavering presence, his aquamarine eyes utterly fixated onto you, which sent a warmth flooding through your veins. His gaze offered solace admits the storm of hesitation that raged within.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, his voice smooth like honey, a melody that washed over you like a gentle breeze. “You look.” He stopped, looking you up and down again, “stunning.” To which you blushed at his words.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, “I’m not too sure if it’s right for me.”

His gaze softened, he cupped your cheek. His touch was like a balm to your wounded spirit, his presence a source of strength in your moment of vulnerability. “It’s not about the dress,” he replied, voice filled with sincerity, “it’s about how you feel when you wear it. And right now, as far as I’m concerned, you look. Breathtaking.”

His words, like a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty, anchored you to reality. With a tender gesture, you leaned forward, pressing a delicate kiss to Nanami’s cheek, a silent token of gratitude for his unwavering love and encouragement.

╰┈➤ fushiguro megumi

this boy. he is clueless. utterly clueless. he doesn’t know the first thing when it comes to basic shopping- you’re surprised he can even get dressed: speaking of getting dressed. you’ve taken him to get new clothes because the little freak basically lives and breathes in the same 3 hoodies all of the time. so now you’re helping him try on clothes in the back changing rooms of a shop…

You were currently egging your anxious boyfriend on to get new shirts, joggers, coats, anything. Just clothes. He desperately needed new ones. He’s been living in literally the same ones for the entire time you’ve been dating.

“I swear to god Megs. If you don’t come out of this shop with at least a hanger I’ll kill you myself.” Your warnings didn’t seem to bother him as he only hummed in response. You both began looking, rummaging throughout the clearance racks. Scouring and mapping out the highs and lows of the shop until your hands had found themselves tugging on a specific item of clothing you would die to see him in it.

“Fushiguro. Come here right now,” you said, condescendingly, walking over to him, slowly closing the distance between you. “Look at this.” You handed the shirt to him. Waiting for a reaction, but instead you just got an inconspicuous raise of an eyebrow, inspecting the shirt.

“What about it. It’s literally just a normal black shirt?” He questioned you and your antics as something had to be up… “You know I don’t need any more black t shirts.”

“I don’t care you’re trying this on or else I’ll. uh. I don’t know but I’ll do something,” you rebutted his faffing about and basically dragged him to the changing room cubicle at the back of the store. You nudged his arm, indicating that you hadn’t got all day, even though he seemed to think otherwise.

A few minutes had passed and no signs of life had emerged from Megumi’s cubicle. “You okay in there?” You replied hastily, and got a meek reply of: “No.”

“No? The fuck does he mean no.” You mumbled under your breath, “babe what’s wrong?”

“Is it supposed to be this tight?” And with that the curtain dividing the two of you opened, revealing Megumi with the worlds most tightest compression shirt on, which looked as if it had been tailored for him especially.

Your jaw was practically on the floor, it was a fight to stop your mouth from falling in awe. He looked so- good. But ‘good’ puts how he looks too lightly; so let’s go with irresistible. The faint outline of his abs peaking from under the restriction of his shirt, his body’s contours moving as he fidgeted. “My my Megumi. Bend me over and do me dirty, you look nice,” you announced to him.

“Nice? After you say that, nice is what you come up with?” He deadpanned with a subtle smirk

“Thought it was suitable.” You smiled. “Giving my big girls vocabulary a rest for today. I mean, keeping my eyes on you is like a chore.” You chuckled then sighed, and on queue your eyes did again search from his veiny arms to his slightly turned head (with the smallest hint of blush visible).

“Shut up.” He protested whilst rolling his eyes.

“When we get back home I want a fashion show.” You declared, whipping your purse out already, determined to buy this for him.

╰┈➤ kamo choso

choso is the most oblivious person when it comes to the basic things in life. ask him you’re going for a girls night and he will insist on coming with you, but then you will have to explain to him and let him down gently that he can’t go. but today you’ve dragged him to the mall and now he doesn’t have a clue what’s what…

Dragging Choso into Sephora wasn’t exactly on your list of typical couple activities, but you couldn’t resist the urge to splurge all of your hard earned money on crap you didn’t need (who doesn’t!) and besides you were overdue a makeup shopping trip. As you began to peruse the aisles, you can’t help but to notice a group of young girls, no older than ten, browsing and gawking at the Drunk Elephant section nearby.

“What’re they going here? Haven’t they just come out of the womb or something?” Choso whispers, his curiosity piqued by the sight of such young customers in a makeup store.

“Hm. Oh. Yeah no, they’re just ogling at the viral products, which in fact won’t do anything for their non hormonal skin. That’s normal in makeup shops Chos,” You reply casually, not necessarily caring as you’ve heard of many stories like this- although these kids are supposed to be brutal.

You focused your attention to the products infront of you, “hmmm, I do need a new setting spray.” You picked the bottle up, seeing if it matched the one on your phone. Choso chirped in.

“Setting Spray? Is it like… a magical mist that sets the mood for your makeup? So is it when you’re angry, you do angry makeup.” He asked obliviously.

“What do you mean by angry makeup-,” you cut yourself off before you got distracted, “Not quite love…” you dismissed his naive behaviour with a loving smile.

You hadn’t really taken in how tall he was, stood next to you it was as if there was a skyscraper. He’s just too attractive. You admired in silence, as he cluelessly picked up an eyebrow gel and scraped a bit on the back of his hand- then went on to complain how his hand was sticky.

Some time had passed and the Sephora ten year olds were slowly approaching the section you were stood in. It had clicked what you both were blocking with your figures… Retinol. These Sephora kids bloody loved this stuff, even though it is way way too damaging for their skin, they think they’re Einstein and don’t want to be disproven.

“Chos let’s go.” You grabbed his cold, pale hand to avoid this inevitable conflict. But he was interested in the thing you needed to distance yourself from… “Retinol? Chos, do you really need that?” You advised him.

“I think I’ll get it, just trying it won’t hurt- will it?” He asked, his dark eyes staring lovingly at you.

“Most likely not.” You laughed at the entire situation to yourself, you did not expect to see your boyfriend in a queue for Sephora to buy retinol. It was very humouring.

All seemed quiet until this little girl approached Choso and demanded for what he hand in his hand to ‘be hers’. He just stood there, puzzled.

“No.” He said bluntly, and this child did not stop screaming. It was like Choso had pulled a fire alarm. As long as that kid doesn’t get its way then it doesn’t matter.

He ended up purchasing the retinol, which is so weird to think about… ‘As long as it keeps him happy’ you thought.

╰┈➤ itadori yuji

he’s always thinking about his stomach, then jennifer lawrence, then you. so it’s ideal that he starts off his afternoon by feeding the first and third most important things in his life, by taking you straight to the food court…

“You’re paying.”

“WHAT?” He practically shat himself when he heard this, “WHY?”

“Maybe because when we go for food. You order the entire menu. Every. Fucking. Time. Yuji.” You said, sternly, as in ‘I’m happy to be here sternly- but if you make me pay I’ll kill you sternly.’

“It’s not my fault that I’ve got like six stomachs or something! I just think it means I’ve got a good ability to digest food quicker,” Yuji yapped on and on, trying his hardest to justify his case as he talked to himself.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night babe,” you leaned into his shoulder as he pulled you toward him via the waist as you two walked to the food court.

The rich aromas of sweets and savoury attacked your senses, as he guided you to the birthplace of gluttony. It oozed of pride in its branding, as when you stepped through the door- the ostentatious architecture made itself present, the waiters all in their matching regal uniforms, there must’ve been a fountain somewhere deeper in the restaurant as the smell of spring water came apparent.

Yuji took one look at you and your reaction to the extravagant establishment and you both knew what would happen next.

“Fancy a wagas?” Yuji stated, fine dining wasn’t his style, you knew this, this man cannot sit still- let alone be waited upon.

“Couldn’t think of anything better babe,” you smiled, as he gave the top of your head a chaste kiss, briefly rubbing his face against your hair as he said previously that he ‘liked the smell’. “Babe if you’re smelling my hair again I think I might cry. This is literally the third time within the past half hour.”

“You’re only allowed to cry when we’re sat at a table with food infront of us. Now come on, I’m starving,” he gripped your hip and escorted you out of the posh building as you two rendezvoused to the nearby Wagamamas.

A bit of time had passed and you two were tucked into your meals, which were delicious. And Yuji had the audacity to ask (like the cheeky sod he is): “Can you actually start crying so we can get a free meal? The staff look like they’d take pity on you.” And in response you threw an edamame at his smug face.

“Get lost you gannit. You’ll be crying when you see the bill,” a cacophony of laughter emerged from your lips as you had just cursed the upcoming tab which was about to be placed in-front of Yuji.

“You’re lucky I love you.” Yuji’s once cute and naive smirk disintegrated from one of happiness to pure horror when the total cost from the check was in eyeshot.

╰┈➤ fushiguro toji

this mf cannot afford to even go into a mall (let alone buy something in it). he’s often spotted cavorting around mcdonald’s waiting until somebody’s order has been called up, pretends to be said person, takes the food and dips immediately. whilst you watch with horror from the back of the room. or sometimes, he has told you he would be at work, so when you decide to visit your local mall (to treat yourself whilst he’s away) and see him begging for money outside of it alls he can say is “gotta make money somehow doll,” with a grin and he thinks he can get off scot free? yeah, absolutely not.

n/a…

╰┈➤ inumaki toge

this man thinks he’s so hard core, thinks he’s the silent but deadly type: when in reality he looks like a weirdo lingering behind people acting like that one man emoji (🧍‍♂️) . and now he’s followed you upto the store in the mall with all of the jelly cats piled in it…

You and Inumaki were walking up the stairs of the shopping centre, when you caught a glimpse of a particular bag with a specific logo on it… Inumaki hand tensed around the mound of flesh which was there originally, now his hand was clenching around the air, you had ran off in the distance somewhere as you’d seen something you’d been wanting for a while.

“Ohmy godoh. my gof-,” your thoughts were disorientated a little, and your breath wasn’t catching up with your train of thought; but you couldn’t help but run after this woman with this bag. You needed it. And when you had finally caught upto her you politely said, “Excuse me, you know your bag? Where did you get it from? I cant seem to find a store where they sell them?” And the woman responded, a bit confused as you were enquiring about a paper bag, but you got the location of where you needed to go.

Inumaki had been left in the dust at this rate, frantically panicking as he was trying to find you, but he saw a glimpse of you from across the other side of the mall and b-lined for it. (A very funny sight to witness.) But you were too absorbed with what you had in your hands, not just that- but what was all around you.

You were in a store which sold soft animals, but the best news was that it’s sold JellyCats, you had wanted these teddies for a while, but there were no local shops which had them. The air smelt clean and crisp, juxtaposing the once stuffy, smelly, BO infested mall air, the place was magical, it was as if a part of your childhood was taken away and kept here.

Once Inumaki had found you again, he had found himself inside of the store as it had caught his eye, as he knew you would be inside of there. He walked upto you again, relived at the sight of you- however you seemed to be to infatuated with the teddies and not himself. So, the once pristine fluffy teddy in your hands got absolutely clarted by Inumaki’s fist.

“Toge what the hell are you doing you freak.” You joked, knowing he has called you far worse over text. “You cannot just punch all of the teddies.” You exclaimed between slight giggles. You shook your hand as you continued to browse the aisles, careful not to pick up any more victims for Inumaki’s playful punches (which were meant with full intent with the sheer vigour of how he clarted them).

You had been looking for this specific JellyCat which has a brown elephant, you’d had your eye on it for a while now, and low and behold. There it was, sat on a shelf by itself, it was practically begging for you to pick it up and re-home the cute thing.

However, there was a kid coming to toward it. “For gods sake,” you let out a slight groan, your paces speeding up ever so slightly in attempt to beat this child at reaching it before yourself. When suddenly Inumaki appears from literally thin air, snatches the elephant from the shelf, and hands it to be- and to top it off- the kid is given a gift too. The gift of Inumaki whipping out the ‘L’ hand sign.

“Toge…” you sighed and smiled lightly yet victoriously. You ruffled his hair, “Thanks babe.”

╰┈➤ geto suguru

i swear geto is the same as having like scary dog privilege. you lead the way and he lurks, when in reality he’s just made you walk infront of him because you’ve elbowed him as he made a snarky joke about the a weird guy walking past. doesn’t even make sense. anyway, now you’re leading him to the sweet shop at the end of the mall…

“Fudge?” Geto sighed, “really? Out of everything you’re going to get fudge.” (Geto does not like fudge. Whatsoever.)

“Yeah. I am. What’s got your knickers in a twist Sugu?”

“It’s vile.”

“You’re vile.” He rolled his eyes, even when you were in-front of him you could just sense it.

The sweet shop made itself closer and closer until the luminous neon lights were reflecting from the walls, and your face- making it appear pink and blue. As you and Geto step into the sweet shop, the air iss thick with the scent of sugar, like a warm embrace from a long-last friend. The vibrant array of sweets and treats dazzle your eyes, each confectionary a colourful masterpiece in its own right.

You turn to Geto, excitement bubbling within you as you’d been craving something sugary all day. “I’m starvingggg,” you whined, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

“No you’re not.” He quipped.

“Shush. Let me try one,” you said as you reached for a sample, and it was like you’d been transcended to a realm of peaceful tranquility. “Want one?” You offered to him.

“Nah, I’ll stick to the classics” you grin at his choice, admiring his steadfast dedication, even though he acts like an old man sometimes.

“Cant argue with you for that babe,” you reply, selecting a few more treats for yourself. “After all, why mess with perfection? Even though fudge is still top tier.”

He chuckled, the sound wand and genuine, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Exactly,” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Sometimes, simplicity is the sweetest indulgence of all.”

“Ooo. Get you and your fancy quotes, where are you reading them from then?” You ask, then pop another sweet into your mouth. He just smiles warmly.

As the two of you are walking out, there seems to be something which catches your eye: it reads ‘fudge flavoured condoms’. You felt your eye twitch. “Suguru. I want to die what the hell is that.” And to which Geto followed to where you were indicating toward and just laughed hysterically.

“Want me to buy some?” He asked with a sly smile.

“Absolutely not.” This was humiliating. Safe to say that you won’t be running back to fudge anytime soon.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso x reader #megumi x reader #jjk nanami #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #faithums #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu toji #jjk texts #angst with a happy ending #light angst

605 notes · View notes

courtingchaos · 10 months

Text

Teeth

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Summary: You and Eddie are freaks. He has a little accident, you have a fun little hobby, and he shows you how he really feels about you’re whole Deal.

Warnings: Teeth. I mention them a lot. Blood, cursing, sex.

A/N: Did I start another blurb series before even publishing the series I was supposed to start last month? Shut the hell up oh my god why are you up my ass about it????

18+ NSFW No Minors

Eddie hooks his chin on your shoulder while you stare at the giant shadow box on the wall.

“Are they all human teeth?”

“Mhm.”

“Isn’t it illegal to own human remains in the US?”

“Well, remains and bones are different categories.”

He knew that would set you off, your phone pulled out for google to fill in your blanks. Eddie laughs at the first result, The Bone Room, and the two of you get a good chuckle out of it for a solid minute.

“Okay so I was wrong, but do you want to own a random set of teeth? What if they’re haunted?” Eddie watches your reflection in the glass front and can’t help but laugh when your eyes go big.

“One could only hope.” You whisper.

“Okay Morticia.” He leaves you to peruse the case of teeth while he wanders over to the weird clown doll corner. This was another little oddities shop you’d found online and asked to go to and he was more than happy to oblige. He also liked weird shit and there was usually a record store close to these kinds of places and of course you needed to find a coffee shop and it would always turn into a fun day date for the two of you.

When he finally gets away from the dolls he finds you at the main counter looking into the glass display while the clerk explains the jewelry inside.

“What’d you find?” He asks, bending directly in half to stare at the tray of rings in front of you.

“More teeth.” You give him an over the top smile that he returns, snapping his jaws at you while the poor woman behind the counter watches your flirting. She tells you prices instead of paying the two of you any mind and you hem and haw while Eddie just takes his wallet out to slide his card across the glass.

“Ed.” You don’t even look up at him when you warn him.

“Which one was it? Is it the big molar? It’s the big molar isn’t it?” He gives the clerk a scoff. “Can you believe this? I take her out here and she thinks I’m not buying her a tooth ring?”

In the cafe you’d found ahead of time you inspect your new ring while he chews on his straw, watching your rub the crown of the tooth.

“You really didn’t have to buy me this.” The barista comes over then with your coffee and a massive croissant. “Or that.”

“What? It’s a sweet treat for my sweet treat.” He tears a piece off and wiggles his eyebrows. “Also a sweet tooth for my sweet tooth.”

“Now you’re pushing it, Munson.”

“You love it.” He pauses when you kick his boot under the table and it turns into a violent round of footsie.

“Can I ask why teeth?”

“I don’t know. I just think they’re neat.” You shrug and fiddle with the ring on your middle finger. “They make a cool sound if you click a handful together. Very satisfying.”

“Yeah?” The smile is evident in his voice, even if you don’t look up to see it. “Sure there’s nothing else?” He goads, waiting for you to look up and narrow your eyes at him.

“And maybe I also want to crunch them like a sugar cube.” You make the exact face he thought you would and it makes him feel a warm coil of familiarity.

“There it is.”

“What?”

“I knew you wanted to do something weird with it.” His laugh turns into a cackle when you discreetly bring your hand up to click the ring against your front teeth.

“Okay so if it’s loose like…No I mean I can see it moving in the socket…ugh god, yeah…alright…” Your tone doesn’t give Eddie any hope and when you scrunch your face up while the dentist office tells you something longwinded, he sighs.

“How much? Oh shi- yeah okay. Thank you though.” You hang up and shoot him a steady look. “Guess.”

“I’m gonna loose it?” Eddie says, bag of frozen green beans held against his cheek.

“No shit.” You set your phone down and make your way to him leaned back on the couch. “You could potentially keep it for a cool $600 though.” Your hand replaces his on the slowly thawing bag and the sharp intake of breath isn’t from the new pressure on his bruise.

“$600 for one tooth?”

“Mhm.”

“Fuck it, I’ll just pull it.” Eddie sighs at the ceiling and closes his eyes. He’d been fucking around, trying to swing his guitar around his shoulders during practice. Had actually managed a few turns but when you’d come to pick him up he wanted to show off. A fast toss over his shoulder and he didn’t see the corner of the body barreling for his cheek.

Your loud gasp and a lot of blood down his front later, he was in pain and slightly humiliated but definitely not out $600.

“Will you help me?” He gently rolls his head your direction, his cheek cradled between veggies and your palm.

“Of course.” You smile sadly at him. “It’s gonna hurt though.”

“Yeah but I like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest, t-shirt still stained red.

“Come on, ladykiller.”

In the bathroom he braces his hands on the counter while you try to find the best angle to pull his tooth out at.

“I’m trying to not just have my whole fist in your mouth.”

“That’s hot.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yes ma’am.” Eddie grins at your flat look. You blindly grab the pliers from behind you on the vanity and take a deep breath before holding his mouth open.

“Please don’t bite down.”

“Eye hot yuh yiked hat.” He’s drooling around your hand and trying to be cute. It’s unfortunately working on you.

“Not like this, no.”

He feels the pliers on his tooth, a gentle tug while you rearrange and then you look at him. Eyebrows scrunched and a concerned look in your eyes. “You okay?” He nods. “This is gonna hurt baby, I’m sorry.”

He barely has time to process what you’ve said. He was waiting for a count down but instead you’ve yanked once, swiftly and without remorse. There’s a small clatter where his tooth bounces around in the sink and then he feels the pulse of pain. A new rush of blood floods his mouth and he doubles over the sink to spit and moan.

“You didn’t even warn me!”

“You would have bitched out and you know it.” You rub his back while he pouts and keeps spitting into the sink. When you disappear to get him a glass of water, he rinses out the sink and picks up his tooth to inspect it. “What tooth is this anyways?”

“The tech said she thinks it’s a premolar from what I told her.” You answer as you come back into the cramped bathroom. He pulls his lip back to stare at the dark space between teeth.

“You don’t already know which one it is?”

You just roll your eyes. “She did say it was good that you didn’t crack it, could have been worse.” You shrug and Eddie holds out his hand to you, tooth sitting in the middle of his palm.

“It looks cool.” He says, rolling it around until you pick it up gingerly and inspect it. There’s a little bit of blood stuck in the root but you keep turning it over, running the pad of your finger over the ridges.

“You’re gonna keep it right?”

“Duh.” He laughs. You hand it back to him and help him clean up from his traumatic afternoon.

A couple of aspirin and a hot shower later and he’s ready for bed, just waiting on you to finish in the bathroom. He watches your shadow under the door where light seeps out and runs his tongue for the umpteenth time through the new space in his teeth. He’s not trying to make it worse but it’s a foreign void that he can’t stop fucking with. The bathroom door opens and you’re already staring at him, head cocked to the side. “I can see you tonguing that spot from over here.”

“You’ve got a spot I can tongue.”

You don’t respond, just turn off the lights on your way into the bedroom where you climb over him on the bed. Before you can drop onto your side he grabs your thighs to hold you above him.

“Thanks for not laughing at me.”

“You looked pretty cool, right up until you smashed your mouth.” You brace your hands on his chest and lean in close. “The blood really distracted me.”

“Yeah that was quite a bit.”

“Still hot.”

He grins and you can spot the missing tooth in the dark before he pulls you in by your chin to give you a kiss. When he opens his mouth to deepen it, your tongue immediately finds the new space like his had. He laughs into the kiss and sits up on his elbows to be closer. It’s a slow make out session that he has no intention of taking further, mostly delighting in you running your tongue along the inside of his mouth, probing.

“What are you laughing at?” You ask, annoyed at him huffing into your mouth.

“You keep trying to feel it with your tongue.” He grins at you in the dark, features highlighted by the light seeping in through the curtains.

“It’s a new spot in your mouth for me to tongue.” You mumble and Eddie says something about tonguing your new hole and it devolves into a slap fight that ends with you two sleepily kissing again.

For a few weeks his tooth kicks around the house in a little ring box you had laying around. Jokingly he stuffed a scrap of ribbon in it and called it a coffin, started giving a eulogy to it every night after dinner.

“Craig had the toughest job-“

“I thought he was Neville?”

“I changed it. Craig is a working man’s name.”

“In what country?”

“Coal country.” Eddie jokingly bangs his fist on the table and continues on about Craig and his 52 family members.

Wayne comes by for dinner and sees this little atrocity and just stares at it for a good while, you and Eddie tight lipped trying to not laugh at his blank expression.

“I don’t know what to expect when I come over here, ever.” He’s not judging, in fact he’s almost too accommodating when him and Eddie disappear after dinner for a smoke on the balcony and he gives his nephew pointers on what dremel bit to use so he doesn’t crack the tooth.

“A matching necklace? Christ Eddie don’t tell me you knocked out two teeth!”

“No! I bought the ring for her, this was just a mistake.” Eddie gestures at his mouth and Wayne chuckles at him.

“Always gotta show off.”

“For her? No shit. If I don’t, she’ll realize how much better she can do.”

Wayne tilts his head and fixes Eddie with a stern look. “You know how I feel about that.”

“I’m kidding.” He tries to wave him off.

“Well I’m not. Who else is gonna bring her home a tooth on a chain?” Eddie can see how that makes Wayne shudder, even when he’s trying to be forcefully reassuring. He pats his uncle on the knee before standing and stretching.

“True. There aren’t any many of my kind left.” He says it wistfully, staring off the balcony into the dark until Wayne huffs at him to get inside and help with the dishes.

The bit dies off and the ring box ends up on your nightstand. Eddie thinks it’s a pretty romantic gesture the way you’ve given it a prime spot next to your Dracula figure. He also knows you’ll notice it missing so he takes the tooth when he gets home before you and knocks the box over and when you notice he plays dumb.

“Oh no, did you knock it over?” “No I haven’t been in your nightstand.” “Why would I take it?”

He brings it with him to work and Wayne refuses to touch it, instead standing off to the side and letting Eddie drill the minuscule hole. He texts you on his lunch and tells you he’s got some extra stuff to take care of, running late, don’t worry about dinner. He uses the extra hour to run by the antique store and buy a chain and he gets so lucky because you’re in the shower when he finally comes home.

Ring box stolen from your drawer and left oh so carelessly in the middle of the counter next to your big water cup. He doesn’t even change out of his shop clothes, just sits and waits for you to come out.

When you do, you give him a kiss in passing and then stop short in the kitchen. “Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s this?” You hold up the small red box and gently shake it at him.

“I made you something in art class today.” He says bashfully and leans over the arm of the couch to dangle his arms while you laugh at him.

“Aw, did Mr. Munson help you with your finger painting?” You pout at him and he flips you off. Your laugh cuts off when you open the box to stare at the necklace.

“Is this your tooth?”

“Yeah, I lied.” He grins at you, “I staged the crime scene.”

“You scum.” Your giggle gets him off the couch, the scrunch of your face makes him cradle your jaw, your whispered ‘thank you’ earns you a kiss and before you can fumble with the chain he’s pulling it out of your hands to loop it around your neck. He does the clasp up and smooths a hand down over the tooth.

“Oh you make that look better than I ever did.” His dimples push through his warm smile. “Almost like it was made for you.”

“God you are laying it on thick today huh?”

“I mean it, everything I am is for you.” He holds you close while you fiddle with your new jewelry. It’s so small for such a significant thing, at least to you. Especially when he starts talking like that. Eddie notices your pensive turn and pulls his head back to look down at you.

“Did I…did I read this wrong? Is it too much?” He knows he’s bad at that sometimes. He knows you like this stuff but maybe wearing a familiar tooth is a step too far. Maybe it feels like a weight around your neck instead of a thin rope of silver. It’s his turn to get quiet and he tries to pull away but you latch on around his ribs.

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me and it’s really weird and I love it a lot.” You mumble into his chest where your cheek is pressed tight. “Thank you.”

He watches you the rest of the night playing with it. Twirling your fingers through the chain and rolling the tooth around, staring down at it and once tapping it against your own teeth like you did with the ring. It gives him a new affection for you, to see you admire something he not only made you, but something that’s wholly him.

Later when he’s waiting for you in bed while you wander around and look for your phone, the intrusive thought he’d been keeping in finally breaks the surf of his mind.

“I’d knock out all my teeth for you.” He says it into the quiet and you pause at the foot of the bed to tilt your head at him.

“That’s so sweet.” You giggle quietly, the look you give him is contemplative.

“No I’m serious.” He leans up on his elbow to look you square in the eyes. “I’d hang ‘em all on a silver chain, drape them on you like pearls.” His stare gets a weight to it that makes you feel rooted to the spot. “I’d make you an altar out of them. Give them to you like little offerings.”

“You make it sound like I’m a deity you need to please.”

“Oh but you are.” He rolls up off his elbow to crawl towards the end of the bed and kneel in front of you. “Everything I do is in service to you and your good favor.” He splays a hand over his bare chest and you know he’s doing a thing but his wide eyed eagerness on his knees is doing it for you.

“And you’d hand over your teeth just for that?”

“I’d hand over my life.” He grabs your hand and presses it over his heart. “I’d leave imprints of my teeth all over you and then hand them over on a platter.”

“Why is this so hot?” You mutter at him, your body flush with heat suddenly.

“I know, keep playing along.” He whispers back, eyebrows twitching upwards. “I’m simply a vessel for your happiness and if that means sacrificing pieces of myself,” his hands settle up behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss, “then I’ll pull them all out by the root and leave them on the steps of your temple.” He keeps pulling you back until you have to catch yourself and climb over him, his lanky frame unfolding under you.

“Does that make you a patron or a priest?” You straddle his hips and break away from the kiss to stare at him, necklace dangling down against his cheek.

“I’m your most devoted follower.” He whispers in the small space between you two, eyes searching. “I’ve pledged my life to you.” His fingers dig in to your bare thighs. “Not for just a reward in the afterlife but in the hopes that you’ll grant me one look at your divine form.”

“Eddie!” You laugh at him and sit up, face and neck hot from his praise.

“What? I mean it! All of that for one…touch.” He slides his palms around to grab your ass and you laugh harder.

“That’s all you want? Just a touch?”

“Well maybe a long, continuous one.” He tries to slide his hands up further but you stop him at your hips. He looks determined to feel up your sides but your grip on his wrists holds tight.

“You wouldn’t want to anger your god now, would you?” His eyes widen at your sudden boldness. When you can tell he’ll sit still you unhand him to pull up the hem of your shirt slowly. “You give me a lifetime of servitude for a single touch?” Before you pull it over your head you give him a wicked a grin. “I’ll reward you with your single wish.”

He understands the game but his hands still twitch when you toss your shirt to the side, chest bared to him. You wiggle around until you get your underwear off, his hands still attached to you. He gets one touch and he won’t waste it, not now that you’re fully naked over him. You pull his boxers down, hands grazing sensitive skin and he pushes his head back into the pillow with a groan.

He clenches his jaw when you grind down on him, sliding over the head of his cock. His eyes rolling when you lean back and brace yourself on his thighs. You gasp with every roll of your hips and he whimpers.

“God damnit can I please touch you?” He grinds out through clenched teeth. The wet slide of your cunt has him breathing shallow and fast, the urge to buck up and fuck you settling low in the base of his spine. “C’mon, don’t I get some kind of fu-uck…” He stutters when your nails drag over his thighs. “You gotta show me some k-kind of mercy.”

“I’m already wearing a piece of you Eddie.”

His chest rises and falls, nostrils flared while he breaths heavy against his own willpower. The tattoos on his arms jump when he digs his fingers into your hips harder, an anchor he has to keep in place until you tell him he can move. “Why don’t you show me just how devoted you are?”

His first instinct, his first want, is to push you back and hold you down and make you sob about it. He’d like to hitch your legs up over his hips and make you remember the feeling of him deep inside for a few days.

But that’s not how you treat a goddess.

He slides his hands up your back with care when he sits up, his lips pressing softly into the space between your breast. He kisses up and over the necklace, warmed by your skin under it. Kisses up your neck until he has to pull your head down to meet his lips again. His fingers don’t grasp like they did a moment ago. They dance light over your skin, along the edge of your hair. They trace up under your jaw and over your cheeks, down your nose. He follows their path with his mouth, gentle kisses following gentle touch.

Your hips don’t move as rapid as they were and he uses it to his advantage. He presses up until he hears that gasp when he breaches you, soft heat clenching around his cock almost enough to set him off. He basks in the moment too long and you try to move your hips down against his but he makes a sound of protest, something in the back of his throat like a whine. “Give me a second, I’m having a moment with divinity.”

Your laugh travels through you, vibrations under his palms when you test his resolve again. Another gentle roll and he lays his face into the crook of your neck to mouth at you. Tongue running flat up the tendon on display when your head tips back and he finally buries himself fully. Your fingers wind in his hair while he snakes a hand between you, thumb finding your clit and you both groan when your movements speed up. He’s already too close, got himself all wound up in the role play but he needs you to finish first to put a nice bow on this evening.

“Y’really like it?” He pants against you.

“Of c-course I do.”

“Y’gonna wear it every day?” You nod and whine when he puts more pressure on his thumb. “Let everyone know what kind of freak you are.” You keep nodding and grinding down on him and that line of heat licks up his spine fast. “Gonna show everyone aren’t you?” He can feel your thighs trembling around his hips, knees digging in on every downward movement. “C’mon baby, wanna see it.” It takes him a lot of effort to pull his head up to watch you. Your chin tilted up, mouth hung open and panting, all for him. He can feel the tension building in you and can see the crease between your brows. The low whine that crawls out of your throat and goes on and on when he finally hits your peak.

He huffs, almost laughing at the way you break, amazed as always at the way you react to him. You sit flush against him and grind and pull his hair and his eyes roll back in his head, a line of curses spilling out of his lips that you catch with your own. He comes fast and hot, the edges of his vision going spotty while you keep his head steady and swallow all his grunts. In his foggy thoughts he can feel you run your tongue over the new space in his mouth, the feeling just foreign enough that it makes him shiver before he laughs again at your interest.

It takes a moment for you both to come down, you slouching into Eddie and making him fall back against the pillows, still out of breath.

“So I take it I’ve won your favor.” He grins up at the ceiling, running his hand over your back.

“You keep calling me a god, you can have whatever you want.” You roll on your side and nuzzle up under his outstretched arm.

“Don’t teeth have something to do with prosperity?” He snaps his fingers behind your head. “With all these new adornments, we’re gonna be swimmin’ in it baby.”

“Oh so that’s why you worship me, for my money!” You poke his side hard enough he flinches and curls around you suddenly, locking you into a hug and pinning you down on the bed. His lips brush your ear when he speaks lowly to you. “I worship you because you deserve it, the prosperity is a perk.” He keeps you close for a while until you both get too hot, sticky skin separating under cool sheets. He still has to touch you though and his foot finds yours while he reaches over to play with your necklace.

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.”

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.” You laugh. “We could have been having a much different evening otherwise.”

(Sacrifice for the read more)

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Smut #My Fic #My Work #Freak Like Me

1K notes · View notes

nicxl333 · 7 months

Note

could you do a part 2 of bllk boys accidentally hurting their partner bu with a good ending please.

My stomach wouldn't be able to handle mor angst(⁠T⁠T⁠)

BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM PT.2

thanks for the req anon, i think you’re doing everyone a favour here by asking for this because whew! i was ready to dropkick a mf from writing pt.1 lmao

also if you’re here by chance it’s probably best if you read pt.1 for context before you read pt.2 | :3

characters: isagi yoichi, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, barou shoei, itoshi rin

content: overwhelming fluff, slight angst, major angst (in rin and barou’s part), reader is female coded (the term ‘girlfriend ‘ is used)

tags: @kaiserkisser @silly-ez @scaramouchemyloveee @mariyumemi @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @hsxhype @aquamarine001 @nxgiswife @hanagoromo-roses

☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI

two weeks. two long, monotonous weeks spent without isagi. yes bachira did his very best to make sure you were comfortable with him, but you missed isagi so damn much.

it wasn’t only difficult for you though, bachira was trapped in a bad position. due to him being a friend of both you and isagi, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. while it was evident that isagi had fucked you over badly, being in a team with isagi and having him as a bestfriend didn’t make things better. he couldn’t just pick a side and be done with it.

unbeknownst to you though, isagi asked bachira multiple times each day about how you were doing. after some self reflection, he realised just how wrong he was for treating you that way. especially since people like you nowadays are hard to come by. someone so nurturing, caring and full of love and devotion for their s/o was quite the rarity to find. and to think he nearly lost all of that with just a few words. really opened up his perspective of things. he wanted to do better. for you and himself.

and so, he cut down his training times, making more time for himself to wind down from daily intensive workouts. he thought of words to say to you, to make it known to you that he was aware where he went wrong and was taking responsibility for his actions.

he also went shopping, to buy you a multitude of gifts. clothes, jewellery, trainers and heels, perfumes, trinkets. you name it, he bought it. it all cost him a hand and a foot, but he didn’t mind, he would do it 100 times over for you. (we should remember this man is a professional footballer, he’s got dough.) once home, he placed all the gifts on the coffee table in the living room, having to put some on the floor due to the sheer amount he bought, ready to take them to bachira’s tomorrow.

little did he know he wouldn’t have to make the commute.

you had said your goodbyes to bachira that same day, thanking him for taking you in for so long with a big bear hug, to which he returned with just as much (platonic) love as you had shown him. you placed your bag in the backseat of your car, turning on the ignition and beginning the drive back home.

as the roads whizzed by you on the highway, so did the thoughts in your head. you were very nervous to have to talk to isagi again, to have to recall exactly what happened that night. glancing at the time on the dashboard, you drew the conclusion that isagi should be training right now, which would at least give you time to prepare before he got back.

as you pulled up to the apartment complex, the first thing you noticed was that isagi’s car was there, in his usual spot next to yours.

‘he’s home?’

surely not, maybe he just hitched a ride or something. although that didn’t make any sense whatsoever. there would be no reason why isagi would skip his evening trainings, not that you could think of anyways. even after joint practice with his team he would then further push himself to do his own training, polishing up on his skills. so to think he’s potentially broken that pattern confused you.

after parking your car and collecting your things you made your way to your front door, unlocking it and venturing in. once you placed your keys on the side table and took off your shoes, you walked into the empty living room, ultimately puzzled when you noticed the coffee table filled to the brim with bags from your favourite places.

“yoichi? you there?”

nothing.

you therefore assumed he was out, deciding to take a closer look at the bags. inside, everything you had ever bought for yourself or displayed interest in while out with isagi lay in each bag. even things that you didn’t have, but wanted, were present.

he remembered.

your eyes immediately welled with tears of appreciation, head snapping to your bedroom door when you heard it open, isagi’s figure stepping out. you immediately jolted, not expecting him to actually be here, even though you didn’t actually take the time to look and see properly.

“shit! y/n, you’re back? wait, why’re you crying?”

in an instant he crossed the distance to you, wiping the tears away once he assessed and evaluated that you were not hurt.

“uh— sorry. i should’ve asked you first. is this okay?” he quizzed, holding the sides of your face tenderly. you nodded, leaning into his touch.

“are these for me yoichi?” you looked into his cobalt blue eyes. one hand left your cheek, rubbing at the skin behind his neck, suddenly feeling shy.

“erm…yes. yes they are. i wasn’t expecting you back though, i was gonna surprise you tomorrow. ” he pulled you towards the sofa, sitting you down and looking deep into your (e/c) eyes.

“look y/n, i know materialism doesn’t take away what i did to you, but i want you to know just how sorry i am. you didn’t deserve how i treated you. not two weeks ago or months before. i made you feel lonely, i put football before you. when you needed me, i shut you out. and i take full accountability for that. words couldn’t describe just how badly i’m in love with you and how crazy you make me feel. i couldn’t bear to lose that forever. hell, these two weeks without you have tormented me enough. a lifetime without you would finish me off for good.”

you listened to him speak every word, touched that he would say such soothing words to you. yes, you did expect him to apologise, but not to go above and beyond to show his willingness to change.

your nose started flaring, the sting of your eyes warning that you were about to cry again.

feeling uncomfortable with your silence, isagi pressed you slightly.

“y/n? are you— are you oka-”

you cut him off by pouncing on him, engulfing him in a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him like it was your last.

“i’m yours yoichi. always and forever.”

☆彡 MIKAGE REO

you woke up in the same hotel room you cried yourself to sleep in. throat dry, head pulsating and heart wounded. you needed some form of rejuvenation, but, considering you didn’t have any clothes on you, seemed hard to achieve.

you reached for your phone, shocked when you saw 20 missed calls and 46 messages from the very same person who caused you anguish in the first place. opening the message app you see the most recent messages being sent at around 5am.

“y/n, where are you?”

“y/n please answer the phone!”

“are you safe at least, i’m worried about you.”

“i just wanna know if you’re okay, we need to talk.”

“y/n?”

“y/n please, im starting to worry, just send me a text, or something. let me know you’re okay.”

although you were beyond pissed at the guy, he was concerned for your safety, and to make him worry for you like that shouldn’t have to be something anyone should experience.

you sent him a quick, straightforward response.

“i’m fine, you don’t need to worry.”

the read receipt came as quickly as you sent it, a bubble popping up, signaling that reo was typing. however, after a few moments, it disappeared altogether, leaving your message standing alone.

you sighed, deciding that the least you could do was shower, feeling clammy and, simply put, dirty.

luckily, your job was well paying so you were able to book a lavish en-suite hotel room, although you didn’t pay attention to that much last night, willing to go just about anywhere as long as it weren’t near reo. inside the bathroom lay exquisite amenities, top branded shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, along with oils and different expensive face care products. an unopened toothbrush pack also was present on the bathroom counter, with toothpaste alongside it. and by the full glass shower itself stood a towel and robe on the hanging rack.

it weren’t exactly clothes, but it was a start. better than staying in your dress the whole day. while you waited for the shower water to warm you looked at yourself in the mirror, cringing at how dishevelled your figure was. your cheeks were tear stained, causing your mascara to run, your lips had smeared lipstick still present, and your hair? let’s not even go there. you looked a hot mess, physical evidence of your current mood.

once heated to a substantial temperature you stepped into the shower, revelling at how that warm water melted into your skin. you made good work of scrubbing down your skin, leaving no traces of any events that may have transpired the day before.

soon enough you finished up your shower, stepping out and wrapping the towel round your figure, feeling refreshed, but still incomplete. you brushed your teeth next, trying to avoid letting your thoughts go off topic from the current task at hand.

just as you were walking into the room itself to look for moisturiser, you heard a knock at the door. it confused you to the core. no one actually knew your whereabouts so you couldn’t rack your brain to guess who it could be. you ventured close to the door, looking through the peephole and visibly relaxing once you saw a hotel worker standing, waiting.

“hello?”

“ah, good morning miss y/n, i have a bag here requested to be brought to you.”

if you weren’t confused before, you were bewildered now. this meant that someone hand to have known where’d you were, but how? only one way to find out.

“requested by who, might i ask?”

“mr…mikage reo?”

what the actual hell. you were well and truly silenced by the revelation. more importantly, it’s quite amazing how he managed to find your location with such haste. although it shouldn’t really surprise you so much, considering he probably had connections due to his status. it made you wonder just what exactly he brought to you.

“erm ma’am?”

you cracked the door open, seeing one of reo’s duffel bags stuffed to the brim. the hotel worker held it out for you to take, bowing then turning to leave immediately after. you carried the heavy bag through the room, placing it on the ottoman at the end of the bed.

you stood for a second, debating whether you should open it or not. curiosity got the better of you though, and you unzipped the bag, stalling when you realised it was a bag of clothes for you, as well as the moisturiser you use, some makeup products and your favourite trainers. it’s like he somehow knew you would need clothes, probably since you didn’t return home last night.

taking the clothes from the bag you realised he packed you one of your favourite hoodies, his own hoodie.

after moisturising yourself you started to put the clothes on, feeling slightly better about yourself. you looked into your makeup bag, seeing some of your basic everyday skin and hair products, as well as your everyday perfume, feeling grateful that reo at least paid attention enough to know what you liked and used.

just as you had finished your skincare routine you heard another lock at the door, wondering who it could be at this time. you got up and crossed your way to the door, looking through the peephole and freezing.

your boyfriend, reo stood at the door, looking around nervously.

you gauged your options for a moment, reaching an ultimatum with yourself that you couldn’t avoid him forever. you opened the door fully, stepping to the side for him to walk in, which he did, stepping meticulously and with precaution, while you closed the door behind him.

all was silent for a moment, neither party knowing what to say to the other, a million thoughts rushing through the room. the tension was taut, the air thick, and awkwardness seeping in.

you collected yourself, deciding to start it off.

“thanks for the clothes, i appreciate it.”

“it’s…the least i could do, considering how i treated you.” he said, simultaneously biting down on his lip.

“yeah.”

he moved closer towards you, looking at your expression to see if he was crossing boundaries at any point.

“y/n.” you looked at him with apprehension, worried about what may fly out of his mouth next. “i want you to know that what happened last night, was entirely my fault. i need you to understand that.”

you frowned with sadness displayed on your face. yes he may be owning up to his actions, but that didn’t explain why he said what he said. especially if he could say something of that degree to you with such ease. it sounded like he meant every word.

becoming slightly anxious from your silence, he continued on.

“i made you it sound like you were inadequate or you were lower than me because i have money. i know it sounds bad, but y/n, it’s really the opposite. you don’t look at me for my background, you look at me for who i am as a person. you make me feel normal. make me feel like i can be myself around you. i don’t have to keep myself guarded around you and i appreciate you so much for it. i guess that’s why i spoke out of turn to you like that last night. because you’re probably the only person who can actually knock me down a peg. and having nagi hear that made me scared. scared because i was vulnerable in front of him. of course, i’m not excusing my actions, and i’m not asking for forgiveness, i just want you to know i’m sorry.”

you nodded slowly in understanding, looking at the way he subconsciously tugged on a piece of his violet tresses. he left his hair down today. you loved it when his hair was down. he knew that.

“i hear you reo, but that’s not the only issue. this whole problem stemmed from the fact that you spend too much time with nagi. i don’t wanna be the girlfriend that prohibits you from spending time with your friends, that’s not who i am, but when you’re with nagi so much that it makes you forget important dates, that’s when it becomes a problem. especially when you then make it out to be like i’m the problem. no one is saying you can’t be around him, but have a backbone please. he’s always there reo. sometimes i just want you to myself, is that too much to ask for?”

he realised where he went wrong, casting you aside for the sake of nagi, which wasn’t cool. and he didn’t want to lose you. you were too good to him and he felt so strongly about you. anything you asked for could never be too much, not to him.

and so, he stepped closer to you still, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you around, relishing in the way you wrapped your arms around his neck, both for stabilisation and comfort.

“no baby, it’s never too much. not when it comes to you.”

you squeezed him tighter, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck and smiling.

“i don’t like it when we fight reo, i love you too much for that.”

“i love you too y/n,” he placed you down gently on the bed, laying you back and caging you in with both arms, his hair hanging directly over your face. “so…we’re gonna go back home and i want you to pack your bags. we’re going to mykonos for the week to celebrate our anniversary together.”

you straightened up, wondering where this was all coming from.

“huh? reo, you’re forgetting something? you may be off season right now but i still have work.”

“not for the next two weeks, i pulled some strings so now you have paid time off, which, gives you more time with your favourite man.”

you chuckled at his revelation, knowing he definitely used his power to threaten your manager. reo could be so demanding at times.

“speaking of which, do you know where he is?” his face immediately darkened at that.

“wanna repeat that?”

“nope!”

☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO

nagi was in a state. it had only been 4 days since you broke up with him, but that was 4 days too long for him. it wasn’t actually until you broke it off with him and it sunk in that you were gone, that it really registered for him.

he missed you.

it made him realise, as much as he hated being bothered…he didn’t mind if it were you. he really did enjoy spending time with you. especially when cuddling. your figure was so soft, a perfect cushion for him to lay on as he slept. you would play with his hair so gently, lulling him to sleep. and you were really pretty.

the apartment just seemed all the more empty without you. yes, he did live alone pre blue lock a few years back, but having you live with him made him get used to having someone around. he grew comfortable and accustomed to it. so much so that it felt lonely when you left.

you had temporarily went back to your parents house while you looked for a new place to live. you had a few items of miscellaneous clothing left behind in your room, but you had ran out, thus needing the majority of your stuff, which you had left back at nagi’s.

you left off, with the promise to your parents that you’d be back soon.

the engine hummed as you drove back, playing your playlist on a high volume, hoping to drown out the thoughts spiralling in your head, although it did little to silence them.

you didn’t plan a time to leave out, but realised that you had coincidentally headed out at the same time nagi would be home, a meeting inevitable. oh well. had to happen at some point. you planned on a quick and brisk pit stop, hoping to minimise interaction with him as much as possible.

you pulled up to the apartment complex, walking through the lobby, swiping your keycard and pressing the lift to go to the penthouse.

in no time you reached the top, the lift doors opening. you stepped out and pushed your key into the lock, opening the door as silently as you could, walking in and shutting it with a click.

yes, you may have been moving around like a teenager after a forbidden night out, but you would much rather that than have to be further insulted by nagi, should he catch you.

alas, things cannot always go smoothly in life, for nagi had heard you, stepping out of the bedroom, shirtless with loosely hanging shorts, evidently having just woken up from a nap.

he instantly stopped, rubbing his eyes to see if he was tweaking or not. yet, you stood there, trying to disappear in that moment.

“y/n…you’re here.”

“only to get my things nagi, i’ll be out of your hair in around half an hour.”

nagi. his own name turned his mood sour. he’d much rather you call him by his actual name, or sei, not his last. and you knew that fact very well, making sure he knew damn well you were serious.

you begun to hurriedly walk towards the bedroom, where he was standing by the door, attempting to walk past him as quickly as possible. he intervened however, stepping about halfway into the door so that you were now directly in front of him and couldn’t get past, unless you spoke to him.

“are you really leaving y/n?”

“it’s l/n to you nagi, and yes. you don’t get to say something like that to me and think we’ll be cool after. it’s fucked up.”

you turned so he couldn’t see you, tears beginning to form at the painful recollection of what occurred a few days ago. you didn’t trust yourself to say anything else, for the fear of bursting into tears held you back.

“please don’t leave me y/n, i can do better, i promise. i regret what i said. really badly. i’m— i’m sorry.”

you knew that nagi didn’t like talking as it is (he referred to it as a hassle), so to have him trying to at least communicate with you did mean something. not enough to satiate you though.

“y/n?”

when you didn’t say anything back he lightly tugged your hand and turned you around, eyes widening once he saw tears streaming down your face.

he attempted to console you, wanting to pull you into a hug, but drawing back when you lightly pushed him off you.

“y/n- what’s wrong?”

“i can’t sei, i’m scared. scared you’ll grow bored of me. i don’t know if i’m bothering you or not and it kills me to think that you’d spend more time on games than with me. you basically told me i’m a hassle. how the hell else am i supposed to take that?”

your tears wouldn’t stop pouring down no matter how much you tried to calm yourself down, sniffles loud and clear as day.

something unusual happened to nagi as he watched you cry your eyes out. he felt his heart breaking into tiny shards at your state. more so because he knew it was because of him. he didn’t want to be the cause of your pain. he didn’t want to see you like this, experiencing such distress.

he wrapped his arms around you, one hand shielding your head and pulling your face into his bare chest, where you sobbed some more, letting up all the feelings built up from days prior.

“you’re not a hassle y/n. i said that out of turn. you could never be a hassle to me. while you were gone, i couldn’t even play my games properly. i just slept and trained because i missed you so much and didn’t know what to do without you. i know i’m lazy, and i know i don’t make you feel loved enough, but i do. i love you. i’ll do better for you and i don’t wanna be the reason why you’re upset. so please stop crying, wanna see your pretty face smile for me.”

you smiled into his chest, your sniffles beginning to subside and still.

“thank you sei, i really needed to hear that.”

“i would say it over 100 times for you. it might take a while but i won’t get bored of it. not when it comes to you.”

you wrapped your arms around his broad figure, squeezing tightly.

“will you be my girlfriend again y/n? no one else can reach your level. not now, not ever.”

you let go of his body, instead placing your palms on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“of course i will seishiro.”

“good, because i wanna cuddle with my girlfriend.”

☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI

it had been 2 months since you broke up with barou and he was miserable. who would’ve thought you leaving would cause such a rift in his life? his performance in matches were shit, he became pissed off at people more easily, and he was benched more often.

due to him not having someone to talk to, he essentially had no form of a wind down from football, something you were able to give him while you were together. something he had come to miss, and wished he appreciated more.

the lack of your items in the house made your departure all the more apparent. your decorations and items around the apartment were what made the house a home.

and you as a person? what wasn’t to like about you? you were a very levelheaded but gentle person, a great contrast to his fiery, angry personality. you catered to his every need, be it mentally, physically or sexually. your voice was what carried him through his day, soothing him to the bone, calming him down when he needed it. the more he thought about it, the more he realised he made a grave mistake pushing you out. the more he realised just how much he was attached to you, he was just unwilling to acknowledge it.

barou was no pussy, and he had enough of living like this, living without you, so he decided to get you back (and not fuck up this time).

he knew you were most likely staying at your childhood friend, chigiri’s house. he knew him very well, having done the blue lock training program with him years back, and played against him in several matches. he knew where he lived, having gone to parties held at his house through mutual connections.

and so, after practice, he grabbed his car keys and set off. he weren’t good with words, so his mind stayed scrambled as he thought of all the things he could say to you. while he couldn’t think of specific sentences to say to you, his goal remained the same.

after some time passed, he pulled up to chigiri’s house, your car the only one on the drive, which meant that only you were home. he switched off the ignition, stepped out of the car and walked up to the door.

with slight hesitancy, he lifted his fist to the door and knocked three times. he listened for any shuffling inside, but heard none. after a moment he turned away to leave, thinking you might’ve not been there after all. it’s possible you might’ve been out with chigiri in his car. yeah, that was probably it.

however.

“what do you want barou? i thought i was ‘making your life too hard’?”

shit, you were home. your voice was muffled, due to you speaking through the door, having seen his figure through the peephole.

“i- i didn’t mean that. not that way.”

you opened the door, allowing him to see a crack of your figure, donned in shorts and a tank top.

“then how did you mean it barou? don’t take me for an idiot, because i’m not one. no one says anything of that depth if you didn’t feel that exact way before. so before you let anymore bullshit spout from your mouth tell me exactly how you meant it, in what context. because i’m tired barou, tired of being in a relationship where i feel like i’m treading on glass around you because you don’t wanna do certain things. it’s not a nice feeling. you may not feel that way, but i do. i’ve felt that way during our whole relationship, but i feel like i can’t tell you shit so i’ve kept. it. in.”

wow. he really didn’t see things from your perspective. once he heard it from you, he realised just how much of a dickhead he sounded like. he couldn’t say anything, how could he explain himself after that?

he didn’t.

and after hearing no refutation or explanation from barou, you simply let go of any hopes of talking this out with him.

“shouei,” his ears perked at you using his first name. “i think…you should go. i don’t wanna have any hard feelings between us but i don’t think we’re right for each other. please understand and respect tha-”

you stopped short of ending your sentence upon seeing barou turn and leave before he could hear you out, getting back into his car and preparing to drive off.

you sighed, shaking your head and closing the door, effectually ending your relationship for good.

he got what he wanted, right?

☆彡 ITOSHI RIN

you woke up in the morning, immediately panning your vision to your left to see if rin had returned to bed. the bed imprints remained the exact same as you had left it when you fell asleep, which lead you to wonder if rin had even returned home.

you slid out of bed, your feet touching the cold wood floor, you trudged your way through the apartment, looking for signs of life, your shoulders falling in disappointment when you realised rin was nowhere to be seen. it was debatable if he even came home or not, the answer you would probably never find out.

you warred with yourself in your head about what to do. considering rin didn’t even try to talk to you to rectify the situation showed he didn’t really give a shit. if he didn’t come home, then he probably didn’t even know if you came home or not, which meant he isn’t worrying about you or where you were.

you weren’t a dickhead, and waiting for someone who evidently didn’t want you seemed like such a desperate action, which you weren’t trying to act like.

and so, calling a few willing friends, shedding some tears here and there, and half a day of hard work, you had effectively moved out of your shared apartment with rin, leaving a half completed home. he didn’t return home the whole day, not that you gave a shit anymore.

imagine rin’s surprise when he returned home from his team practice, expecting to see you moping around somewhere, but instead, nowhere to be found. as a matter of fact, where the fuck was your stuff? the apartment looked very much empty right now. he took at least 15 minutes to look around, analysing his surroundings, the same he would do during a game. any potted plants you bought for the house, specifically for the living room disappeared. your stupid candle ornaments that somehow made the house look better? not a ghost of a trace left behind. your clothes? gone. even from the laundry basket, only his clothes remained.

your products, your favourite sleeping pillow, even your toothbrush was gone. you left no stone unturned, questionable if you ever lived there in the first place.

still slightly puzzled but somewhat aware of the answer behind all of this, he pulled out his phone, clicking immediately on the message app. he sent you a message, heart dropping and suspicions confirmed when his message was not only green, but displayed a ‘not delivered’ message underneath. you had blocked him, and moved out without his knowledge.

he knew you were pissed off from what had transpired, but he didn’t know you would take action this soon. you didn’t even wait to talk to him for the love of god. this wasn’t supposed to happen this way, he was only angry at you because he felt threatened in the moment. but, recalling just exactly what he said to you, maybe it was warranted.

maybe it was for the best. you barely had enough time together as it is, due to unmatchable schedules and rin always being abroad. he was never able to give you enough love. funny, considering he didn’t even make sure to tell you. looking back on it, he realised he was kind of a dickhead to you.

so, he let go of the relationship for good.

—

four months had passed. he’d gotten bigger as a football player after his team winning a multitude of matches had lead to him becoming their star player, constantly getting man of the match achievements. this lead to his popularity increasing, getting more fans and fame as a result. he had been abroad this whole time, focusing on his career.

oh. but don’t think he had escaped you.

he couldn’t get his mind off you.

you tormented his thoughts daily and nightly, his yearning for you and hate for himself flourishing simultaneously as he repeatedly recalled how he fucked up. he wished he could go back to that night, heeding your warnings.

either way, that couldn’t be achieved now, for he didn’t know your whereabouts. he hadn’t known since that night on the pitch.

he tried to move on the best he could, returning back to japan to visit his parents whilst he had time off from football.

it just so happened one day while he popped out to a grocery store to get ingredients for his mother, the he saw the back of a familiar head, whisking away to the next aisle over. piquing his curiosity, he immediately paced to see if it way really who he thought it was.

and yes, the face he thought he’d never see again, the very same person who had been frequenting his mind,

you.

“y/n!” you froze, not expecting to find him here of all places. last time you had seen on tv, he was abroad. he wasn’t supposed to be here. deciding you had to face the music at some point, you turned around, watching as his demeanour melted, at really seeing you again after so long.

“rin…hi.”

all was silent for a moment, not knowing what to say to each other. what does one say in situations such as these? not to worry, rin answered for you.

“how…how’ve you been?”

“good thanks, how about you?”

“i’ve been— alright.”

silence settled again. rin wanted to voice so many things to you, starting with how he wanted you to know how he’s changed. how he’s calmed down in terms of training. how he’d make more time. he wanted you to know he’d do things differently, if you ever took him back. he wanted you to come home… but he didn’t know where to start.

he would have to at some point however, for you wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

“well…um, it was good seeing yo-”

“wait!” he interjected, panic settling in that you would disappear and he would never get the chance again. “i— i just wanted to tell you tha—”

“y/n baby, i’ve got the washing powder.”

baby? what the fuck?

he looked just past you to see a guy walking up to you, taking the basket from your hands with a peck to your cheek. you smiled at the action, lacing your hand in his hair as he took place behind you. he then noticed rin, standing there with visible shock on his face, confused on what he missed while he was gone.

“who’s this?”

“oh, just an old friend.” a bold faced lie. anyone with two functioning brain cells could feel the history between you two. “i’ve got my stuff so let’s go to the queue. nice seeing you rin…have a good day.” you walked off with your supposed new boyfriend. a boyfriend that wasn’t him.

have a good day? after you just shattered his heart like that?

his throat turned dry, awareness sinking in.

he wanted you to come home…but he was too late.

baby you sold me a dream pt.3

968 notes · View notes

cadavercowboy · 1 year

Text

In Too Deep — Part One

Pairing: Stepfather!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s marriage is falling apart and he’s desperate for something familiar to cling to. He knows you’re the wrong thing, but you don’t exactly make it easy for him to keep his distance.

Word Count: 6.9k+

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only). Allusions to emotional abuse. Inappropriate relationship. Implied cheating & cheating. Age difference (reader is over 18!). Brief/vague description of reader’s hair. Moral dilemma. Coercion. Daddy kink. Size kink. Innocence kink (if you squint). Mutual masturbation. Fingering. Handjob. Unprotected sex. Minor degradation. Creampie. Cum play. Cum eating.

A/N: This has been collecting dust in my docs and then this post reminded me of it so I had no choice but to finish ‘er.

Shutting the front door as gently as you can, you wince when your keys clatter loudly against the hardwood floor. You curse under your breath, though the sound of tinny voices floats towards you from the next room and you realize you don’t need to worry about the noise. Bucky is still awake, up late for what seems like the hundredth night in a row. You pick up your dropped keys and toss them on the counter as you pass by, padding quietly down the hall towards the blue glow which reflects off the walls.

You poke your head into the living room and there you find him; slumped into the couch and bathed in the light from the screen in front of him. Even from this distance you can sense the air of defeat in Bucky’s posture and the slight pouting of his full lower lip. A pang of sympathy twinges in your chest as you observe your poor stepfather. All you’ve done lately is go on dates in search of a relationship and all Bucky has done is try desperately to maintain a hold on his; neither one of you seem to be having much success.

While you’re accustomed to your mother’s mistreatment of those around her, he’d innocently and unsuspectedly married his way into what is likely to be the most toxic relationship he’ll ever be a part of. Night after night, Bucky sits there waiting for her to return from her shift at work. Whether or not he truly believes that’s where she is, you’ve yet to determine. Unbelievably — though he deserves much better — Bucky hasn’t left her. Though the man is kind and sweet and has never treated your mother with anything but love, he is too kind or perhaps too stupid and oblivious to stand up for himself.

“Late night?”

Bucky’s rough voice draws you from your musings and you sigh airily as you step around the wall to shuffle towards the couch he sits upon. While you’d much rather head upstairs and take care of that which your date hadn't bothered to, it would be rude not to at least talk to Bucky. You throw your bag onto the unoccupied armchair, rounding the piece of furniture to join him.

“You too,” you observe as you plop down beside him. “Can’t sleep?”

He offers a half-smile as he leans forward and the bottle of beer he’d been nursing thunks onto the coffee table. When he turns your way, his smirk falters; his cerulean irises flicker briefly down the plunging cleavage of the skimpy shirt you’re wearing. Your lips seem a bit swollen, though he can’t be sure the light flashing across your face isn’t just playing tricks on him. Bucky shifts against the cushions and sits up a little straighter, his arm stretching along the back of the couch.

“Never can these days,” he admits, the laugh that follows is weighted with bitterness.

His tone is soft, yet ice cold. You meet his eyes and behind them simmers an ember of pain, the gaze that meets yours is that of a man lost. Maybe Bucky is aware after all. He sees the understanding in your expression and smiles sadly before his lips flatten into a gesture of acknowledgement, of knowing. As you sink into the couch, so too does your heart. You felt bad when you thought Bucky didn't know the truth, though now you feel worse knowing that he does. He turns back to the television with a sad sigh.

“How did your date go?” he queries.

It’s just like Bucky to put aside his own troubles and be curious about your life. You smile fondly as you observe him, shadows dance across his handsome features and the screen illuminates the glassy shine that coats his distant eyes.

While not your father, he’d certainly taken well to filling the role; being supportive and loving and present in a way your own dad never could. You love Bucky like family and that only makes it more difficult to rectify the unspoken and unidentifiable feelings that simmer just under the surface. Something you’ve never once explored, but you’re almost certain Bucky has taken notice of, too. It would be too dangerous, too wrong for either of you to ever acknowledge; though it’s simultaneously impossible to ignore. Good looking and attentive as he is, any woman would be liable to fall victim to Bucky’s charm.

You continue to observe Bucky, noting the distinct heat which rises in your cheeks. You study the way his thick lashes flutter when he blinks slowly, the way his full lips glisten when he licks them, the way his Adam’s apple bobs enticingly along the thick column of his throat. Bucky turns your way and clears his throat expectantly, smiling when you chuckle guiltily and apologize.

“That bad, huh?” he jokes, referring to your lack of a response.

“No, it was…fine I guess,” you offer unconvincingly. “I don’t know. He was kind of boring, actually. There was just no spark. No fire. No passion.”

His teeth sparkle even in the dimness of the room when Bucky laughs at the dramatic way you haughtily enunciate the end of your declaration, extending your arm forlornly towards the ceiling. You laugh along with him, though the sound stops short when the warmth of his hand circles the curve of your knee where your bent leg nearly touches his thigh.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he consoles. “Plenty of fish in the sea though, right?”

“No worries,” you assure him as you flop sideways and prop your head on the back of the couch, pouting sadly. “I’ll just die a lonely and horny old spinster.”

You regret the words almost instantly, blaming your loose lips on the three drinks it had taken for you to soldier through your date. There’s no other explanation for why you would say such a thing to your stepdad.

Although Bucky snorts in surprise at your bold statement, he cannot deny the warm knot that begins to form low in his belly. He’d known your dates weren’t going well, but the confession about your sexual frustration sends his mind reeling down a road he’s well aware he should actively avoid traveling. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes when he pats your thigh in a gesture you suppose is meant to be soothing but only makes you painfully aware of how keyed up you are tonight.

“That’s alright,” he consoles. “Some guys just suck.”

“Some women, too,” you breathe.

Your proclamation elicits a tense moment between the two of you, not a sound in the room beyond the dialogue droning from the tv and the apropos ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. Bucky’s eyes search yours in the interim, your own mimicking the action as you look for some sort of sign or indication that his mind is careening in the same treacherous direction as yours. You’re certain yours is spinning more wildly out of control than Bucky’s ever could.

His hand remains on your thigh, igniting an unbearable blaze of impermissible desire in your veins that makes you squirm. The only sign of life from Bucky is the gentle flexing of his strong fingers. When the silence grows suffocating, Bucky’s tongue flicks out between his lips and his eyes finally leave yours to instead journey towards your slightly parted mouth. He leans in almost imperceptibly and as he does, his palm slips higher up your thigh until his pinkie finger draws perilously close to the seam of your jeans. Your pulse thrums in your neck and between your legs and the spell is broken by your own startled gasp.

Without a word, you spring to your feet, Bucky’s hand sliding down your leg as you all but leap from his grasp. Your feet thump loudly as you flee from the room, thudding their way up the stairs. You barrel through your bedroom doorway and swing the door behind you, not bothering to make sure it shuts all the way.

You’re inside the safety of your room no more than a few seconds by the time you’ve shed your shoes, socks, and pants; tossing the garments aside while you pace at the foot of your bed and drag your fingers through your hair. Your cheeks puff and you breathe a rush of air as your palms slap against the bare skin of your thighs.

The tight shirt you were certain would show off your body just enough to tempt your date is shed in haste as well, leaving you in only your underwear; sexy and lacy and regrettably unappreciated. In your head, you’re chiding yourself for what an insanely inappropriate notion it is to be so turned on at the touch of your own stepfather. Still, your heartbeat pounds demandingly between your thighs and your need refuses to be ignored.

Climbing clumsily into your bed, your bare skin burns against the coolness of your mussed sheets. Your control is crumbling as you gnaw anxiously at your lower lip. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable any further so you delve a hand beneath the elastic of your panties and sigh contentedly at the immediate relief of your warm fingers. Already surprisingly wet, your fingertips slip easily along your slick and puffy lips.

“You left your—”

Bucky’s presence is preceded neither by a knock nor an announcement; he simply eases the door open, his shocked face disrupting the shadows in the doorway. Your bag tumbles from his hand and thuds dully against the carpeted floor of your bedroom, Bucky’s jaw falling with it. His eyes burn hot and dilate without delay, nostrils flaring as he tips back on his heels; knocked off balance by the depravity of what he’s accidentally happened upon. He knows he should say something, anything; he should apologize, most certainly. But his lips won’t move. His lungs won’t inflate. His throat won’t dare release the words he knows should come.

You scramble frantically, grabbing the small decorative pillow you’d crushed beneath your shoulder blade and pointlessly use the satin square to maintain even a bit of modesty. Speech evades you as well and you’re left staring dumbly at your unmoving stepfather, eyes wide and doe-like in a way that is making this situation much, much worse for him.

Bucky’s lungs finally release the imprisoned oxygen trapped among his ribs and he nearly chokes as he swallows shakily. He tells himself to look away, but his eyes refuse to obey. How could they when they are so graciously being given the privilege of caressing such excess of your beautiful skin; the perfection of your bra-clad breasts swaying with each rise and fall of your chest, the slope of your waist and hips beckoning him to traverse the ethereal lines of your body, the nervous shifting of your shapely legs as you shrink behind your pillow and prudishly attempt to hide yourself from him?

Every part of Bucky’s body screams at him, beseeching and begging for him to turn away; to leave you alone before he steps past a point from which he can’t truly return. Every part aside from one. He cannot ignore the rush of blood that swells his cock beneath the constricting fabric of his jeans. He should, but it is all too overwhelming. Too tempting.

His knees threaten to buckle as he mentally pleads with his booted feet not to move from where they’ve planted themselves in your doorway. The place where the wooden floors of the hall meet the plush carpet of your room serve as an all too literal line he knows should never be crossed. Two little words is all it takes to drag him willingly across that moral divide.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the breathy, wavering voice or the diffident way you bat your big eyes at him, but your tiny utterance draws him in like a moth to a forbidden flame; the inferno of your taboo light prepared to singe his malleable wings. Your next words further erode his dwindling ability to bite back his most loathsome desires.

“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” you murmur, eyes growing teary with apparent embarrassment at having been caught in such a vulnerable position.

Bucky wants to ask, but he knows precisely what you mean. Even if he longs to hear you say the words and admit that you had scurried away to your room to get yourself off, he will spare you the humiliation. At least for now. The quiver of your lip — chewed raw and plump with irritation — and the needy hunger which still clouds your eyes nearly crumbles Bucky to the floor; where he knows he’d find reverence at your feet, clinging to you like a man lost at sea.

His legs carry him trance-like until he stands mere inches from your bed, practically within arm’s reach of your restless and rigid frame. Bucky knows what you need — can read it boldly written in every nuanced flutter of your distraught visage — and he’s willing to dive headfirst into the illicit debauchery to provide. He only hopes you’ll fall with him.

“Can I help you out?” he prompts, knuckles popping as he curls his fists at his sides. “Let me help you, baby.”

Bucky’s own desperation is woven like an intricate tapestry within the inflection of his beseeching words, your stomach tightens at the prospect that he may be just as troubled as you are by the oppressive yearning that has been silently establishing itself between the two of you.

As if attached to a string beyond your control, your head nods disjointedly. Your heart pounds with deafening force in your ears and the rush of blood drowns out all other sound around you. Bucky exhales sharply and you worry for a moment that he’s changed his mind, that he may have come to his senses and might dare to leave you here in this wanton state.

Much to your relief, he kicks off his boots then lifts one knee and presses it into the mattress near your shaking legs, his eyes glued to yours as he looks for any sign of distress. He finds none, instead only able to identify the blazing want that swirls in the blackened pools of your pupils as he settles in and kneels at the foot of your bed.

The warmth of a palm grasping your leg just above your calf makes you flinch and you gasp as if you’ve been burnt. Bucky is quick to hush you, holding your gaze as he gently pulls your legs up and directs your tensed body until you’re eased onto your back, your feet flat and situated between his parted thighs. Bucky’s body is considerably larger than yours, but in this position, his broad frame is even more powerful and formidable than ever. You clutch firmly to the pillow that barely covers your body, your little fingers aching from the force of your grip.

“You’re okay,” Bucky assures you, his voice dipping low and vibrating like a ricocheting shot through each of your nerve endings. “It’s just us. Let me see you, sweetheart.”

He senses your hesitation, though he can see how eager you are to please him as well. The corner of his mouth quirks knowingly and he caresses each of your knees, sliding his calloused palms over your skin in gentle circles before he scoots closer so he can reach the soft plushness of your thighs. His touch settles there for a moment, then moves inward and upward until your legs are forced to part to make room for his sizable hands. Your breath hitches as Bucky inches closer and closer to the apex of your thighs, then changes direction until his hands find your ankles and pull your feet out to bracket either side of his own thighs.

Bucky asks again, tenderly requesting for you to open up for him. And you do; unfurling yourself like a blooming flower, your petals fragile and delicate as you reveal the softest parts of yourself to him. Uncertain what sort of grasp he has on his waning restraint, Bucky defies the ever-present voice that calls out in the back of his head and allows his eyes to fall to the space he’s opened between your legs.

Tucked amid the velvety flesh of your thighs, he finds a light-colored portion of fabric; the gusset of your panties peeking out and undeniably damp. The thin material clings to you like a second skin and he can make out the distinct seam of your cunt through the moist spot that stains it. Bucky swears he could cum from that obscene sight alone. He stares unabashedly at your wet panties and the mere suggestion of what lies just beneath them as if it’s the last sight his eyes will ever have the honor of seeing; devouring each and every detail of the ripe fruit he longs to know the flavor of.

Although he’s done nothing irredeemable just yet, Bucky knows what has already happened will forever change your relationship regardless. For God’s sake, he’s perched at the end of his half-naked stepdaughter’s bed like a lascivious demon of lust, claws prepared to dig deep into her as he fights the urge to drag her off to Hell with him. He gratefully consumes every bit of your nubile body that you present to him, a sacrifice on an altar which he can only hope will be enough to sate the beast inside him. Deep down, he knows it isn’t.

“Do you want to touch yourself for me?” Bucky implores, offering you the option to accept or deny his indecorous solicitation.

Without much further thought, the relentless throbbing in your core prompts you to extract one hand from the pillow still held tightly in your arms. Though the fingers of one hand still hold tight to the silky fabric, the others trail delicately across your lower belly and over your pelvis. Your touch stutters when your fingertips reach the soft cotton of your plain panties, but the flash of triumph in Bucky’s azure eyes encourages you to keep going.

You’re unsure and arrhythmic at first contact with your sensitive folds, fingers pressing apprehensively through the thin barrier of your underwear. When Bucky’s lips part on a heated sigh and his fingers knead your thighs, you swirl your digits more confidently, breath catching in your throat as pleasure prickles under your skin. Your hips twitch upwards into your own touch and Bucky’s jaw tightens, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the hand between your gorgeous thighs, much as he wants to look up and see the veil of gratification he knows must grace your face.

Bucky takes all you offer with greed and haste, praying that he possesses the strength not to take more. But more is all he wants. He craves it, he needs it. Palming himself through the detestable material of his jeans, Bucky absorbs every precise flick of your wrist, his mind cataloging each little sound and simper you make beneath the ministration of your own hand. Just as he feared, it isn’t enough.

“Pull your panties to the side,” he demands, his voice sharp and commanding. “I wanna see all of you.”

You both know if you do this — if you allow yourselves to get carried away in such a manner — then there is no going back. As it stands, you can still change your minds and salvage some semblance of a normal relationship; show some discipline and save yourselves from the bitter reality of the betrayal and sin you’re so painfully close to the precipice of.

“I won’t touch you,” Bucky says, as if he senses the source of your worry and his promise might serve to assuage your fears.

And perhaps it would have if your doubts were borne from a place of morality. But they aren’t. You need him to touch you because — loathe as you are to admit the ignominious truth — you want more, too. You want anything and everything he’s willing to give you and then some. So you heed his order and curl your damp fingers around the even damper material of your panties, slowly easing them to the side to reveal your slick center to his ravenous stare. Bucky growls at the sight.

“You’re already so fuckin’ wet, baby,” he grunts, teeth clenched so hard they could crack. “Rub yourself.”

His voice takes on a tone of impatience as he squeezes the girth of his painfully swollen cock through his pants. You obey his request without hesitation this time, gently dragging your fingertips through the juices that have spilled from your core as you rub them up and down. Bucky is keenly aware of the way your fingers seem to avoid your clit. Pushing your legs wider, he settles deeper into his haunches to unlatch his belt and lower his zipper to relieve some of the steadily growing pressure.

“Touch yourself here,” Bucky demands, one hand reaching for your wrist and drawing your hand higher. “Show me how you’d do it if I wasn’t here. Make yourself feel good.”

Admittedly, you’d been avoiding direct stimulation of the bundle of nerves. You’re terrified of losing yourself completely and falling apart beneath Bucky’s scrutinous and watchful eye. It’s obvious from the way he licks his lips and stares you down with intensity that this is exactly what he wants. Even more obvious when you do as he asks and he shoves a hand behind the open zipper of his pants, burrowing under the tight elastic of his underwear to grasp his swelling length.

You begin to wriggle as you touch yourself, your toes curling restlessly into your sheets as your fingers swirl around your sensitive clit. Bucky’s eyes are glued to the motions of your hand, entranced by the subtle sounds of your slick folds as you massage them intermittently. His heart slams against the walls of his chest, beating to the same rhythm of your frantic little breaths and feminine sighs. Your eyes had shut as you slipped into ecstasy, but they fly open when you hear the jingling of Bucky’s dangling belt.

“Gotta touch myself, baby,” he confesses as he pulls his cock free, the weight of it making it bob between his thighs as a fresh rush of blood flows through his veins. “You got me so goddamn hard.”

As he wraps a fist around the thick base of his cock and begins to stroke it firmly, Bucky can’t help the loud and raspy moan that bounces off the walls. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up and you lick your lips at the sight of him fondling his impressive manhood; can’t help wondering how little it would take for you to let him have you. When he shifts closer and slides between your parted thighs, he sees the flash of apprehension.

“We can touch ourselves together, right?” he states softly. “I won’t do anything to you.”

He wants to add ‘unless you want me to’, although he allows the amending words to remain unspoken. Your doleful eyes tell him everything he needs to know: you need him — are desperate for him, even — and you’re so deliciously close to breaking. Your whispered request only assures him of that.

“W-will you kiss me?” you peep nervously.

At first, Bucky isn’t sure. You’ve already come this far, but he worries making physical contact with you will rip his shaky control of this situation right out of his hands. Still, he can’t say no when you’ve asked him so sweetly in that innocent little voice of yours and he ultimately gives in.

Leaning over you, Bucky brushes a strand of hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear; ghosting his fingers along the edge of your jaw until his hand hovers over your mouth and his thumb hooks over your lower lip. You accept it easily, swirling your tongue and suckling gratefully at the long digit as Bucky presses it shallowly in and out of your mouth.

“Is that what you need?” Bucky breathes. “You promise you’ll keep being good for me if I kiss you?”

Nodding both dumbly and eagerly, you pout when his spit-soaked thumb slips free and leaves a trail of saliva down your chin. Though your disappointment is quickly forgotten as Bucky braces a hand on either side of your head and lowers his torso close to yours. His lips part and his warm breath washes over you as his face settles an inch from yours.

He kisses you chastely at first. Several short and slow pecks which you gladly accept are pressed to your soft mouth and you moan against him as you continue to work your fingers over your pulsing center. When he tries to pull back, you chase his lips; your teeth nipping at the plush flesh until he ceases the retreat. Your earnestness causes Bucky to grow impossibly harder and he mashes his mouth against yours. Unsure how you pluck up the courage, you force his lips apart and plunge your tongue into his mouth the second you have the opportunity to do so.

Bucky sinks further into the heated kiss and as he does, the leaking tip of his heavy cock brushes along your thigh, leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum in its wake. He groans brokenly into your mouth at the contact with the silky warmth of your flesh, his abs clenching as he gnashes his teeth against the unexpected stimulation. He looks down at you, nearly snapping when you peer up at him as if you’ve done something wrong.

“Is this okay?” he wonders, steadily pushing his hips forward so his dick grinds against your thigh more firmly. “Feels so fucking good, honey.”

Bucky doesn’t wait for a response or permission, rather he kisses you again and continues to use your soft skin to pleasure himself. It doesn’t matter to you, you’re more than happy to acquiesce in the interest of Bucky’s satisfaction. He assaults your mouth, leaving you panting and breathless as he shifts his hips and his cock moves lower until the crease of your thigh cradles the mass of the thick appendage. Your shocked inhale prompts him to back off only because he knows he’ll have more success if he eases you into it.

You nod your approval when Bucky asks if he can take off your panties, watching with rapt attention as he eases the dampened fabric along the curve of your legs; he lifts them and pushes your knees towards your chest to drag your underwear over your ankles and discard the crumpled material. Heat rises in your face when your legs fall open again and you’re bared entirely to Bucky.

“Wanna see you fuck yourself with those little fingers,” he breathes, barely managing to stop himself from exploding when you nervously bite your lip and wither slightly as you divert your wide eyes. “You gettin’ shy on me, baby girl?”

“A little,” you manage to giggle.

The urge to cover your bare body flees when Bucky swirls his thumb over the head of his cock and curses under his breath. His unflinching stare beckons you to continue obeying him and the way he looks at you as if he wants nothing more than to devour you whole is incentive enough for you to slip your fingers down low and circle your dripping entrance.

Bucky jerks himself with vigor as your delicate digits bury themselves in your pussy, pornographic sounds emanating from your center as you slowly fuck yourself. He burrows a hand under your hips and draws your body closer to his. Heat pulses off of your flesh and he angles his cock so close to your core that he swears he can feel the humidity of your pussy. As you rub yourself more frantically, your knuckles occasionally brush his swollen head, leaving behind slippery beads of pre-cum that seep between your fingers.

You’re dripping wet by now and Bucky notices the tumescence of your flooding arousal shining in the pale moonlight that splashes across your squirming body. He’s so enthralled by the beautifully naughty picture you make that he doesn’t even protest when he feels your curious fingers dancing along the firm ridge of his cockhead. Both of you are too far gone, too torqued up to consider the consequences or even the immorality of what you’re doing.

When you gather some of your slick and smear it over the spongy tip of his dick, Bucky swears he could see sound and taste colors. His ears ring and his head swims, frozen in place by the ineffable sensation of your timid touch. A shiver wracks his body when you begin to wrap a hand around him, pushing his fist out of the way to stroke his cock for him. Your juices smooth the way and the distinct veins that decorate his length pulse angrily beneath your palm.

Feeling bold, you lift your hips slightly upwards and swirl the turgid flesh through your folds, twitching when Bucky’s tip hits your swollen clit. The stimulation paired with your audacity to behave so rakishly pushes him uncomfortably close to a premature release, prompting him to grab your wrist and wrench your hand away from his aching erection. You whine unhappily, but he’s quick to soothe your disapproval.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he praises. “I’m just gonna rub on you like this.”

Buck demonstrates by sliding his cock through your folds, you slick coating the underside of his length and squelching audibly when he draws his hips back again. He keeps grinding himself along your needy pussy until you grow dizzy and frantic with need. The friction of his hot flesh is driving you insane and the pressure of his hardened, bulbous head rutting against your clit nearly sends you over the edge.

“Bucky, I—” you choke out, unable to voice the inconceivable appeal you want to make.

Your moaning and wriggling sets his teeth on edge and his muscles twitch with the restraint he forces himself to exert. He coos over you — smug and condescending — watching the rapturous way in which your eyes roll as you bite your lip until it bleeds. Bucky can see the words you want to spit out as if to rid your mouth of the acrid taste of them, but you fight it. He’s determined to hear you voice them.

“What is it, little one?” he whispers. “Do you want more?”

Suddenly unsure, you smile shyly and shake your head, though Bucky can still see the indecision burning in your eyes. It won’t be long before you change your mind. In fact, he intends to make certain that you do. He needs to touch you, to give you what he knows you need. He wants to make you fall apart. You’ll beg for release, from his fingers or his mouth...and he tells himself that that’s okay. That’s acceptable. He wouldn’t really be doing something wrong if he gets you off without burying himself in your young, willing body...would he?

When the blunt head of his cock catches on your neglected hole, your pussy spasms and your brain short circuits, prompting you to blurt out without thinking about or considering the impact of your words.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you whine, your plea shaky with unshed tears.

“Don’t,” Bucky barks instantaneously.

His sharp tone surprises you as Bucky has never once raised his voice, let alone been stern with you. You cower beneath his unexpected firmness, your eyes growing wetter.

“We can’t do that,” he insists, his resolve even weaker than his flimsy voice. “I can’t fuck you, baby girl.”

The forlorn way you whimper immediately has him questioning his own convictions and when you reach for his cock and mash it even more firmly against your drippy cunt to force your sodden lips to separate and hug the girth of him, he’s never believed in something less. And when you wrap your fingers around the base of him to guide the shiny, reddened tip to the entrance of your pussy where you just barely breach yourself and cry out at the tight feeling, he knows then and there that he is going to fuck you.

“Is that what you really want?” he bites harshly, taking his weight on one hand so he can press the palm of the other against your throat, finger curling around your esophagus until he’s sure he has your full attention. “You need your daddy inside you, huh?”

“I…I want you,” you blubber.

The tears that finally trickle from the corners of your eyes snaps what little sanity Bucky has left, he surrenders any desire to uphold some level of propriety with you. He picks up where you left off, guiding the tip of his cock to your weeping, wanting cunt and drives his hips slightly forward. Offering only a few short and shallow strokes, Bucky fucks you with just the first inch or so of his cock; the stretch is dizzying nonetheless.

You’re satisfied with the initial drags of his cock only for a moment before you writhe beneath him and try to take him deeper with all the subtlety of a brick. But Bucky pulls away, denying you the satisfaction of feeling more than just the tip of his fat cock. Somehow, he manages yet again to convince himself that if he doesn’t fuck you any deeper than this, he’s still done nothing wrong. If it’s just the tip, he isn’t truly fucking you; he isn’t cheating on his wife or corrupting his sweet, young stepdaughter.

He maintains his composure for significantly longer than he thought possible before he can resist no longer. You gasp and moan in a way befitting of the filthiest of whores and your back arches when he dares to slip you another inch.

The heat of your tight cunt swallowing him up and hugging his cock snugly seeps so deep into him that he feels the warmth in his bones. You squeal loudly in surprise when Bucky lurches forward and impales you, his thickness splits you open and stretches your pussy with almost unbearable yet fulfilling pressure. He places a hand on each of your hips, stilling your fidgeting and wiggling as you endeavor to ease away from the overwhelming sensation of his cock sliding all the way to the hilt. Bucky keeps you in place, reveling in the way your slick walls ripple and squeeze as he makes sure you go nowhere.

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” he soothes with slight condescension, curling his body over yours to capture your lips in a fervid kiss. “You felt too good, I had to feel all of you.”

You can only whimper in response, altogether unaccustomed to feeling so full. Bucky carefully cradles your head, pressing his forehead to yours as he begins to fuck you with deep and steady strokes. His cock feels indescribable as it drives into you, coated in your slippery cream and hard as steel. With each plunge into your clenching pussy, Bucky grunts deeply in your ear. His fingers thread more tightly in your hair, harshly yanking the strands as he pumps his hips with more and more force.

The head of his cock bumps your cervix on each downstroke and it knocks a wavering cry from your lungs with precise reliability, Bucky becoming more and more certain that you utter the pathetic noises with the intention of taunting him and egging him on. He turns his head, swallowing your salacious cries as they grow in volume.

You’re caged in by his muscular arms as he presses your chest to his, ensuring that you take every inch he’s forcing into your pliant body. He just about loses his mind when he can feel you using your feet for leverage to drop your hips and meet his every thrust, extending his arms so he can look down and watch you greedily engulf his cock.

“Tight little cunt…feel so much better than your mother. You’re being so good for me, baby. My nasty little girl, huh?” he encourages. “Just like that, I’m so fucking close. Gonna cum on these pretty tits.”

To drive the point home, Bucky claws at the cups of your bra to release the bouncing globes. He palms the flesh, grinding his palms into your sensitive nipples and adoring the way your pussy constricts in kind. Your arms had pulled up and come to rest against your ribs and your little hands curl and unfurl atop your torso, blindly searching for something to grasp.

Bucky snatches up the pillow you’d tossed aside earlier and presses it to your belly, encouraging you to grab hold of the plush object. You do so gratefully, fingers digging forcefully into it to hold it tight as Bucky shoves your knees towards your chest and his cock slides in and out of you with ease.

While Bucky did have every intention of pulling out and blowing his load on your breasts as promised, the feral sound that rattles deep in your throat like an animal in heat makes him rethink the option. The sight of you powerless and tiny beneath him — pathetically clutching your pillow with both your eyes and lips opened wide with ecstasy as he watches the thickness of his cock disappearing within your little pussy, spreading and stretching you out with each swivel of his hips — leaves him without much choice.

“Don’t stop,” you beg. “Please don’t stop.”

He can’t hold back now, can’t deny either one of you the delectation of him leaving you completely full and sated. Especially not when he feels you grind your hips to sink further down onto him until the thatch of hair at the base of his cock tickles your clit and your legs pull tight around his hips.

The weight of Bucky’s body crushes the pillow between your bodies as he leans in to bite your neck, growling in response to your lamenting wail. The room is filled with the sound of raucous slapping as your skin makes sharp and consistent contact, the backs of your thighs slamming into Bucky’s hips with every violent thrust he imparts on you. You’re practically screaming by the time your orgasm overtakes you and the constriction of your pussy relentlessly gripping his cock flings Bucky over his own precipice.

“Ohhh, fuck…that’s it, honey. Just like that. Such a good fuckin’ slut,” Bucky hisses, beginning to ramble as the first spurt of cum spills, his balls pulsing with force. “Stay right there. Daddy’s gonna fill you up so good.”

You know you should refuse, push Bucky off and stop him from burying his seed in your pussy. But you cannot deny the fact that somewhere deep down, this is what you’ve wanted all along. To be his and to be marked as such. When you feel his cock jump inside you and the noticeable warmth of his cum seeps into your womb, you do exactly as he requests and you stay put as he pumps his hips shallowly and fucks his spurting cum even deeper.

Tipping your head, you latch your teeth into the collar of Bucky’s shirt as his body spasms above you, muscles twitching and rippling with his powerful release. He pins you in place with his body, focusing his weight against your wiggling hips until he’s positive you’ve milked every last drop of cum from his slick-soaked dick. You squeak in discomfort when he presses his pelvis flush to yours, the depth of his cock making your insides ache.

Bucky remains there — buried as deep as he can physically get — until he can catch his breath and his dick begins to soften. When he pulls out, the thick white trickle of cream begins to spill out immediately. You’re vaguely aware of the sound of a car outside and while you know you should be rushing to cover up and Bucky should be slipping away unnoticed from your bedroom, he seems to have other ideas.

Thick fingers sweep through the stickiness of Bucky’s spend, smearing it all over your puffy folds and coating your swollen clit in a layer of cum. He spends a dizzying amount of time focusing his touch on the over-stimulated bundle of nerves, only stopping when you begin to flinch and whine beneath his touch. Once you do, he chooses instead to gather the rest of what drips from your wrecked pussy on his fingers before slowly and methodically stuffing the long digits inside of you, shoving his cum back inside.

Satisfied with how his cum is now smeared over every inch of your pussy — both inside and out — Bucky brings his slippery fingers to his mouth, lewdly sucking your combined juices from his skin. He licks his lips for good measure, then hops gingerly from your bed to tug his boots back onto his feet. Bucky turns to you, proudly observing your limp, satiated body and the look on your tear-streaked face as he lovingly caresses the inside of your right thigh where some of your fluids have smeared. He fights the urge to bury his fingers knuckle-deep in your leaking pussy when he spies the cum that starts to seep out again.

“Come say goodnight to your mother,” he directs as he carefully stuffs his softened length back into his pants before looming over you to speak against your parted lips. “Be a good girl and I’ll come back later to tuck you in.”

With that, Bucky kisses you sloppily then exits your room without another word. You’re left lying there, alone and exhausted; legs shaking and your stepfather’s cum oozing from your sore pussy as you hear the distant sound of your mother’s voice downstairs.

Part Two

• Series Masterlist •

Sebastian Stan Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost

#i used the word cock 24 times i'm so sorry #barely edited this so i'm sorry for that too #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfic #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #stepfather au #stepfather!bucky barnes #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan

2K notes · View notes

nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 3 months

Text

Neighbors 🩵 Lovers

What if Erik was your sneaky link and your neighbor?

The life of a Museum Curator for the Metropolitan Museum of Art has its ups and downs. Fae McAdams had just gotten promoted and after celebrating over drinks with friends and colleagues, she returned home to her high-rise, luxury Manhattan apartment with stunning skyline views and high-class amenities.

Her girl friends took pictures of her dressed in a sexy evening gown with a plunging neckline that sparkled. Fae posted the photos to her Instagram and received tons of congratulations. She worked hard to get that promotion. A few lemon drop martinis and hookah was much deserved. Now, she can book that flight to Indonesia.

Despite having an amazing Friday night, the one person she’d expect to show up and support her was currently unavailable for whatever reason. Just then, she was reminded when she opened her apartment door and saw him standing there with her dog, Deuce, in his arms. His name is Cordell and he’s a shitty boyfriend.

“Did you get my texts?” Fae questioned with a flat tone while locking her door.

Cordell sat Deuce down and he skirted off to play with his chew toy. Cordell— tall, chocolate, handsome— walked over to Fae, staring down at her from his imposing height. Fae liked them tall, built, and rough around the edges. Wasn’t always the best choice in men since all of her exes have been known to cheat on her. Cordell had never been caught cheating, but he has his faults. This being one of them.

Cordell was the best she’d ever had. He wasn’t some broke nigga laid up on her couch in the same draws. He was an elementary school teacher who was the first man to ever treat her like a gentleman. Butterflies crept up her stomach when he snaked one bulky arm around her hourglass waist, drawing her in so they were glued together. Cordell had to bend his back to get closer. She rolled her eyes and turned away, his soft lips catching her cool cheek instead of her plump lips.

“Fae, it slipped my mind. I would have been there but I had that thing I was telling you about.”

Fae tilted her head back to stare at him, “What thing, Cordell?”

“You know,” Cordell smacked his gums, “That thing with school.”

“The parent-teacher conference?” Fae questioned.

“Yeah. I couldn’t miss this. I hadn’t had the chance to call you back, baby.”

Fae squirmed against Cordell, “You could have sent a text letting me know all of that, Cordell. Why is that so hard for you to do? Simple communication.”

Fae felt Cordell’s arm slip away and she removed her heels before walking past him, brushing against his bare arm. It sent shivers down her back. She was tipsy and horny. He didn’t deserve to have her but the way her coochie was throbbing like a heart-beat, she couldn’t ignore it.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Cordell followed her to her room, “I’m proud of you. I’m happy you got promoted. That’s amazing.”

Fae ignored him and tossed her bag on her bed. She started to undress but Cordell grabbed onto her zipper first, pulling it down. Her dress fell from her shoulders, breasts defying gravity. He lowered the dress past her waist, then her hips, until it fell to her ankles. Cordell crouched down to grab the dress and in the process he kissed her right butt cheek. At his full height, he looked at her reflection through her floor-length mirror, his dark brown eyes sweeping over her body with lustrous desire.

“You a dime-piece, baby,” Cordell grabbed Fae by the chin to force her to look at him through the mirror, “How long you gonna stay mad at me?”

Fae responded with a half shrug before walking away, her hands gathering her hair into a bun as she walked over to her vanity. She secured her hair with a claw clip and started removing her jewelry.

“I did get you a gift. It’s not here yet but I figured you’d be happy about it.”

Fae’s chestnut eyes focused on him through the mirror and a small smile teased her glossy lips.

“I’ll be waiting on this gift.” Fae spoke with disbelief.

Cordell walked over to her at a slow pace, his cologne crowding her personal space. Fae could feel his warm body against her back, pressing her into the vanity. Cordell leaned forward and started peppering her neck with kisses. Fae’s pussy quivered when he added tongue.

“I wanna eat your pussy.” Cordell whispered into her neck.

Fae wasn’t going to tell him no. She turned around, breasts with stiff nipples stroking his chest.

“Can I eat your pussy, baby?”

Fae didn’t say a word. She blinked her eyes away from him and pushed him, taking two steps towards her bed before climbing on top. She went to lay back, her fingers dragging her black thong past her hips. Cordell took a seat on the edge of the bed before turning onto his stomach. Fae pressed her thighs together with one of her dainty hands cupping her pussy.

“Can I see that wet pussy?”

“Depends…I don’t think you deserve to taste me.”

“You say that now…you tipsy, ain’t you?”

Fae let out a suppressed laugh, “I am. I should be upset with you right now.”

“Baby, how can you stay mad at me,” Cordell moved her hand out of the way, “When I make you feel like this?”

Cordell used his middle finger to rub up and down between Fae’s slippery pussy lips. She turned her head away, a low moan escaping her mouth. Cordell positioned himself with his face pressed against her pussy, his strong hands separating Fae’s thighs. Her legs dropped open and that pussy covered in peach fuzz and dripping wet was in his mouth. Cordell pushed Fae’s thighs back and swiped his tongue over her clit lickety-split. One of her hands sat on top of his waves while the other twirled a nipple.

Cordell’s dark brown eyes were half-lidded and his thick tongue moved hastily over her clit and inner lips with the right amount of pressure that had Fae bucking her hips.

“Your pussy taste sweet.” Cordell said with a lick of his lips before going back in to eat some more.

“Fuuck,” Fae frowned her face in ecstasy.

Cordell adjusted his body so that he could slip a finger past her opening. He inserted his middle finger slowly, Fae dripping onto the bed from being opened. She could make a big mess. Cordell sucked on her clit lightly while twirling his finger around, swiping her spot and her walls.

“You gon’ cum in my mouth, sexy?”

“Yes!” Fae gripped the back of Cordell’s head, “That’s my spot, baby!”

Her nipples were hard and pointed to the ceiling. Her pussy leaked all over the bed as if she’d sprung a leak. Her inner thighs quivered the more Cordell sucked and licked all over her pretty pussy. She was sensitive, soaking wet, and ready for dick.

Fae’s entire body convulsed and Cordell grabbed her waist to keep her still. He continued to devour her through her orgasm, alternating between licks and sucks.

“Cordell, babe,” Fae whined, “I’m gonna squirt.”

Cordell sat up and quickly slipped his sweat pants and briefs past his hips, his chubby brown dick with a pink tip nothing but a hard, flesh covered pole ready for insertion. He pushed Fae’s hips back and her pussy opened up more. He dropped his seven inches in her wet, warm sex and as soon as his dick hit her spot, Fae squirted all over him.

“Still mad at me, Fae?” Cordell spoke with a quiver in his voice because of the way his dick felt snuggled between her walls.

“Just give me that dick.” Fae replied with tenacity, “This pussy ain’t gonna fuck itself.”

Cordell started moving his toned hips, pumping in and out of her pussy. Fae locked her ankles around his waist and reached down to rub her clit. Cordell increased the speed of his hips and Fae could feel his nut sack slapping against her ass.

“Harder, Dell,” Fae spoke hastily, “I’m so fucking wet, fuck this pussy.”

That lemon drop martini shot straight to her pussy. Cordell puckered his lips and spit on his dick, his way of adding more wetness. Fae rolled her eyes a little so Cordell wouldn’t catch it. She held her legs back and Cordell went harder, his hips snapping into her’s.

“Mhm…this my pussy…” Cordell whispered between strokes, “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” Fae moaned, “Here it comes—”

She leaked the more he stroked. It was so wet between her legs that his dick kept slipping out. Cordell pulled Fae up and with his dick still inside he got behind her and Fae arched her back.

Her favorite position.

“Oh, shit,” Fae brought both of her arms out and gripped the sheets, “Yes, baby, don’t stop, oh my god—”

Cordell slapped Fae’s left cheek before using his long fingers to grip her flesh. Fae threw it back while Cordell met her pound-for-pound. Everything became sticky and loud because of her dripping-wet pussy. Fae’s ass made all types of clapping noises from how hard she would thrust back. Eventually, Cordell was close to letting it off. He grabbed her hips and banged her pussy from the back, making Fae cum one final time before he pulled out and came all over her back and ass.

He stepped back and sat down on the bed to catch his breath. Fae collapsed onto the bed and turned her sweaty cheek over her equally sweaty shoulder to see all of his ejaculate dripping between her cheeks. Cordell looked at her like he wanted to go for round two, but Fae was tired.

“You can’t be worn out already, Fae,” Cordell complained.

“I came more than twice.”

“What stopped you before? Come on, ma. Let me make it all up to you.” He begged.

“You did. I got what I wanted, and now I’m satisfied.”

Fae pushed herself off of the bed and positioned herself between Cordell’s legs. She smoothed her hands up his chest and brought her lips to his, giving him the type of kiss that had him moaning in her mouth. His dick bounced between his legs when she sucked on his tongue. Fae giggled before slipping away.

“You’re dead wrong for that!” Cordell shouted after her.

Fae entered her bathroom to take a long shower, laughing at Cordell’s weak attempts to get her back in bed.

“Can you change the sheets please?!”

Fae opened her eyes and grabbed her phone from her side table to check the time. The television was still on and re-runs of Law and Order continued to play on mute. Cordell was snoring like a grisly bear beside her causing Fae to mush his head to try and stop him. After two attempts, Cordell rolled over onto his left side and the snoring seized.

Fae threw her black satin sheets back and climbed out of bed to pee. She flicked on the light and quickly lifted the seat to relieve herself. After she used her bidet and some wipes, she washed her hands with some peach-scented hand soap and removed her satin bonet. Her long, silky, black hair fell over her shoulder and she turned to grab a grey robe from behind the bathroom door. Back in her room, Fae slipped her feet into a pair of matching slippers before exiting the room.

She decided to go and grab some mail from her box since she forgot to check it earlier. It was 2 AM and she didn’t expect too many people to be wandering about this early in the morning. Fae grabbed her keys and placed them in the pocket of her robe and she was out the door. The hall was a little chilly, the slight breeze stiffening her nipples. Fae pressed down on the elevator and waited for two minutes before it reached the top.

The ride down was peaceful, Fae admiring her reflection through the doors of the elevator. It dinged and she was let out onto the lobby floor, making a left towards the mailboxes. She scanned the many gold slots until she found hers; 13F. She opened it with a little gold key and grabbed a stack of envelopes with a small package she assumed was more gloss that she purchased from Fenty Beauty.

Tucking her mail in the crease of her elbow, Fae secured the mail slot and as she was walking away, a man that also lived here that she recognized in passing entered the building wearing a khaki beanie, a white hoodie, light wash jeans that sagged a little in the thighs and crotch, and butter Timbs on his feet. He didn’t spot her at first, his attention drawn to his phone. When he finally looked up, she noticed he wore glasses with a gold rim.

Fae turned away to walk back towards the elevators and she assumed he was going to check for mail as well but he was right behind her, heading in the same direction. She pressed the button and waited as he made himself comfortable next to her. She tried to look at him discreetly, but he was already staring at her. Fae gave him a faint smile, her inner dialogue begging for the elevator doors to open. Why was she feeling queasy?

“Hi”

His voice was deep and raspy with a hint of playfulness.

“Hi.” Fae replied.

The doors opened and he allowed her to enter first before he did. Fae made herself comfortable in a corner of the elevator while he pressed the number thirteen. Nothing else. Fae looked at him and watched as he took a few steps back towards the other corner. The only sound was the constant beep whenever they reached a new floor.

“Thirteenth floor too?” He asked while looking at her over his shoulder.

At that point it was too late for that question.

“I’m sorry, yeah, I live on that floor as well.”

His onyx eyes fell on her and he smirked.

“I was wondering if you were gonna tell me what button to press.”

Fae chuckled, “It’s 2 AM, I’m not all the way there at the moment,” Fae said with a grin.

“2 AM is like 8 PM for New Yorkers though.” He replied with his own smile and a lift of his brow.

“I’m not originally from here.”

“Neither am I.” He said.

He held her gaze for a few seconds before turning away to see what floor they were currently on.

“I’m Fae,” Fae held out her hand for him to shake, her robe opening slightly to reveal more cleavage. She noticed and quickly shook his hand so she could fix herself out of embarrassment. Heat crept up her neck and she didn’t know for sure, but it felt like he was amused by the entire thing.

“Erik.”

“Didn’t mean to flash you, Erik.” Fae said with a nervous laugh, avoiding his eyes.

“All good.”

The elevator opened and Erik went ahead of her to stop the doors from closing.

“Thank you,” Fae slipped out sideways, her arms wrapped around her as if she felt exposed, “Have a good night, Erik.”

“You too, Miss Fae.”

They both began opening their doors, keys jiggling. Before Fae crossed the threshold into her apartment, she brought her attention to Erik one final time, but he was already halfway into his apartment and shutting his door behind him. Fae blinked away, entering her place and closing the door softly.

The slight rays from the morning sun peeked through the long drapes that covered his ceiling to floor windows. Erik rolled over onto his back, his gold chain slanted around his neck. He sat up slowly and grabbed his phone from the wireless charging station on his night stand. Stopping the alarm, Erik fully sat up in bed before stretching his muscular arms above his head.

Erik always kept a tall bottle of water on his bed side table to drink in the morning. He grabbed it and unscrewed the top, taking a few sips before securing it. He checked his phone for texts and noticed a few from old friends and one from a woman named Patrice that he’d been messing around with for a couple of weeks. Opening the text, he was blessed with fat pussy.

Patrice: Good morning, King. Can I see that dick that was deep in me last night?

Erik decided to entertain her and show off his morning wood. His room was flooded with just the right amount of natural light. The golden rays of the sun against his moisturized erection would be art. Already nude, Erik opened his camera and when he caught the perfect light, he angled his phone to catch his lower abdomen and down to his bobbing girth. Erik sent the picture with a kiss emoji.

After doing a couple of stretches, Erik entered his bathroom to start his self care routine. He turned on his shower to allow the steam to circulate and activate the fragrance from the eucalyptus plant hanging from his shower head. He stood at his mirror and went in to brush his teeth first. After brushing twice, he used his tongue scraper, flossed, and rinsed with mouth wash.

Erik entered his shower and cleansed with a lightly scented soap first, then he exfoliated, and lastly he used a body wash to finish. He stepped out of the shower smelling like Italian Bergamot, Hinoki, Grapefruit, and Amber. He wrapped a fluffy charcoal grey towel around his waist and stood at his foggy mirror to do his facial routine. Afterwards, Erik added some maracuja oil and shea butter to his locs and facial hair.

He covered his body in a lotion with the same notes of Bergamot and Hinoki, and got dressed in a white beater with grey joggers and white Nike socks. He strolled out towards his office to check his work laptop for any new information on a current job. So far, all he knows is that it’s in Bangkok. He was enjoying the time away from getting his hands dirty for a change. A new email attachment informed him of when he would be leaving. He had a month to prepare and everything from flight, to hotel, to transportation was covered.

Most days for Erik between jobs weren’t very eventful. He didn’t complain though, he’s used to being alone with his dog or working out. He didn’t have any friends in New York and he honestly didn’t care to make any. From time to time, he’d travel back to the Bay Area or Boston to catch up with old friends, but his job required him to travel often. No time for a relationship either. Not that he ever actually had one.

He has needs, and he satisfies those needs. But commitment isn’t something he could do with his line of work. No one really knows what he does, at least not the people in his personal life. Erik has a well rehearsed explanation as to what he does for a living. To them, he works for a security company that pays him well to travel, stay prepared for anything, deterring crime from the people he protects, and occasionally threaten. In between his job as a bodyguard he’s a personal trainer.

Erik made himself a mug of lemon ginger tea and prepared a veggie omelette with a side of avocado toast. He fed his dog; Diesel, a brown and white American Pitbull Terrier, before putting on a hoodie and some running shoes to take him for a walk. As Erik was leaving his apartment with Diesel, his neighbor, Fae, was leaving her apartment with her Frenchie.

Fae locked eyes with Erik and smiled, waving hello to him. Erik returned the wave with a smile of his own. He looked down at her dog dressed for the fall weather.

“Hi, Erik,” Fae greeted.

“Hello, Miss Fae. Going to the dog park too?” Erik asked.

Fae stared up at him through her lashes with a smile, “Yes. I figured I could go a little earlier. Your dog is cute!”

“Thank you. This is Diesel. He’s friendly to most,” Erik bends down to scratch behind his ears, “What’s your dog’s name?”

“Deuce Brix! But you can just call him Deuce.”

“‘Sup Deuce?”

Erik crouched down to rub Deuce. He barked a few times but not because he felt threatened. He let Erik pet him and scratch behind his ears. Erik stood back up and continued walking alongside Fae. He pressed the button for the elevator and they both watched Deuce and Diesel sniff each other.

“Sleep well last night?” Fae asked.

“Yeah. I had a bit of jet leg. Took some melatonin and I was out.”

“Do you always have trouble sleeping?”

Fae instantly regretted asking him, a sorry look in her eyes.

“You don’t have to answer that.” Fae said.

“It’s okay. It’s only the hardest when I’m back in from work. After about a week, I’m back to normal.”

They both left the elevator and walked out of the apartment building. Deuce was sniffing around while Diesel was ready to take off and leave Erik behind.

“Chill out, boy! I’ll let you off when we get to the park.”

Fae giggles, “Must be moving a little slow for him!”

“Always like this too.” Erik said.

“How old is Diesel?”

“Almost two years old. How about Deuce?”

“He just turned one like…a month ago. I had a doggie cake for him and everything.”

“Hm, cute,” Erik raked his eyes up and down Fae’s frame, “looks like you spoil him too. Look at his lil fit.”

“This is my baby, of course I’m gonna spoil him.”

Only two blocks away on W. 25th Street, they entered Jemmy’s Dog Run at Madison Square Park. It’s a six point two acre green space at the heart of New York City. It’s open year-round and it’s a fun place for pets to exercise, socialize, and play.

Fae and Erik found a nearby bench near a small play area. They both unhooked their dog leashes and watched as they scurried off—paws to dirt—joining the other dogs in some fun. Fae crossed one of her legs over the other and relaxed into the bench. Erik was leaning forward with his elbows propped up on his knees. Fae scrolled through her phone and Erik kept an eye on Deuce and Diesel. He would occasionally look over at Fae and at times she would look up at him and smile.

She’s a baddie. A brown sugar beauty. He liked everything about her from her smile to her hair. He liked that she was into dogs. He loved that she lived right next door to him. Erik wondered if she was available. Something told him she wasn’t. He could sense it in the way she maneuvered around him. He hadn’t seen a man coming and going from her apartment.

“You said you weren’t from here. Where are you from if you don’t mind me asking?” Erik asked.

“Jersey.”

“Oh, I was thinking D.C or something. You’re not that culturally different. It’s just cheaper to live there than here.” Erik said.

“True,” Fae fiddled with her hoop earring, while staring at Erik,” most of my old friends from Northern Jersey are content with staying there and rarely ever come to NYC. I just wanted something different. I knew I wanted to go to school here. So, I packed up and moved. It wasn’t easy…”

Fae continues, “People come to New York to challenge themselves and partake in great art, music, movies and food. They want excitement, late nights, strange encounters and places that stay open past 10pm. This doesn’t make these people any better than those who don’t come but they may be more willing to take on a risk and more open-minded in dealing with different types of people.”

“Jersey may lack some of the urban excitement of New York, but it can be a peaceful, idyllic place.”

“I miss it. I don’t have the strongest relationship with my family ever since my mom died. I keep in touch with my little sister often. We make time to see each other. You got to, you know what I’m saying?”

“…sorry about your mom,” Erik gave Fae a once-over before his eyes fell to Diesel’s leash in his hands, “I know all too well how that feels.”

Erik could feel Fae’s brown eyes observing him.

“Wow,” Fae exhales, “You lost your mom too…”

“When I was a youngin’. I’m better now that I’m older but…I still think about it and…I’m sure you know…It’s never easy.”

“Definitely,” Fae sat up straighter, “You kinda learn to suppress it. I get triggered whenever it’s her birthday, Mother’s Day, you know…”

“Same.”

Erik’s mouth curved into a smile.

“What?” Fae asked.

“I actually talked about her without getting all sad.”

“I’ve been told that I have this presence that makes it easier for people to talk to me. I just listen…know what to say…”

They sat in silence, occasionally getting up to check on their pets. When they both returned to their designated bench, Fae sat a little closer this time.

“Where are you from?”

“Cali. Born and raised in Oakland.”

“That’s so far from here. Why New York?”

“Uh,” Erik toyed with his hood, “I went to school in Boston and I was trying to figure out if I wanted to stay here or go back home. I decided to move to New York because it was a change of scenery and I won’t run into anybody I know.”

“You like meeting new people?”

“Depends,” Erik stretched his arms before leaning forward again, “I’m not really a people-person.”

“Okay,” Fae nodded her head, “I sort of have to be, it comes with the job.”

Erik leaned in closer, “What do you do?”

“I’m a Curator at the MET. I love my job.”

“Seems like a cool job. Surrounded by art and history.” Erik said.

“It is. I just got a promotion so, not only do I get to do what I love, I get paid well for it.”

“You got to in this recession.” Erik chuckled.

“What about you?” Fae questioned, tilting her head with curiosity.

“Me?”

“Work?—”

“Oh, I’m a Bodyguard. I also do a bit of personal training.”

“Really? So you’re a bodyguard for who?”

Erik leaned back and slipped his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“Anybody with money and power pretty much. It requires me to travel a lot. Not just in the U.S, but other countries.”

“I would assume you have to have some sort of background with that shit, right?”

“Mhm. You definitely have to be qualified. Credentials and all. I used to be in Special Ops.”

Fae’s eyes went wide with surprise. Erik’s eyes narrowed playfully at her.

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-six. Why?” Erik asked with a lop-sided grin.

“I figured it would take years to like…accomplish all of that.”

“It does. A lot of discipline. A lot of sacrifice.”

“Hardly any time for family I’m sure.”

“That’s the choice you make.”

Fae straightened her back and her smile slipped from her beautiful lips when she looked at Erik’s expression. He drew his lower lip between his teeth and he looked at her with eyes so ablaze that she turned away quickly to check for Deuce. Fae stood up and the breeze swept up into Erik’s face, Fae’s scent crowding his senses. He followed, a part of him wanting to confirm if she indeed had a man. He hadn’t had this much interest in a woman for years. Crazy that he just met her hours ago.

“Deuce!” Fae called out for her Frenchie.

“Diesel!” Erik whistled, “Diesel!”

Fae and Erik walked forward towards the doggie playfield. Her smell kept drawing him in.

“I like your perfume.” Erik said.

Fae’s big, brown, pensive eyes stared back at him and then she blushed, “Thank you. It’s Kayali Vanilla.”

Diesel charged towards Erik and leaped up at him. He was still in a playful mood so Erik pulled out a ball and tossed it for him to fetch. Fae picked up Deuce and coddled him while he licked her cheek. Diesel came running back with the ball in his mouth and his tail wagging.

“I forgot to bring my ball.” Fae said with a pout.

“You think Deuce would play?” Erik asked.

“Yeah,” Fae let him down, “Look Deuce!”

Erik tossed the ball and Deuce and Diesel ran after it. Fae giggled watching both dogs wrestle for it. Deuce grabbed it with his teeth and ran back to them with Diesel on his tail, barking loudly.

“Good boy, Deuce!”

Erik tossed the ball again.

“Look at ‘em go.” He said.

“They really are good with each other. We should plan more doggy dates together.”

Erik cocked his head with a teasing look in his eyes.

“Just doggy dates?”

Fae shifted her eyes but couldn’t hide her obvious blush.

“Just doggy dates, sir.”

Erik let out a suppressed laugh, “my guess is you have a boyfriend?”

He tossed the ball again.

“I do,” Fae gave Erik a friendly smile.

“Cool,” Erik shrugged both of his shoulders with a playful smile, “You ready to head out, Miss Fae?”

“Yes.”

After securing Deuce and Diesel, they headed back to their apartment building. Erik wasn’t quite ready to part ways just yet. Her sweet smile and warm voice he couldn’t get enough of among other things.

“You sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind our doggy dates?”

Fae gave Erik an enigmatic smile. His plump limps turned up into a dimpled-smirk.

“No.” She finally replied.

“It took you way too long to answer that.”

Erik laughed and Fae rolled her eyes before glancing at him.

“He wouldn’t mind. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Hm.”

Erik tucked his lips into his mouth, dimples deeper in his cheeks. Fae looked at him with those angelic eyes of hers.

“What is hm?”

Erik’s brows disappeared behind his locs, “Nothing.”

Erik held the door open for Fae and of course he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t check her out from behind. He was pleased. They made it to the elevators to make their ascent to the thirteenth floor.

“Got any plans for the rest of the day?” Erik asked.

Fae tucked her chin and smiled.

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Just having small talk,” Erik shrugged, “I like talking to you.”

He knew his words would have an effect. Fae looked at him and he could tell her breaths quickened.

“No need to get all nervous, Miss Fae.”

The elevator doors opened and Fae left first. At their respective doors, Fae put the key in but didn’t turn the knob to enter. Erik waited, his eyes compelling her to say what was on her mind. She shifted, that sensual look in her eyes again.

“I had a really great time, Erik.”

“Me too.”

“Uhm,” Fae reached into her pocket to retrieve her phone, “What’s your socials?”

Erik smirked at her and retrieved his own phone.

“I have Twitter and Instagram.” Erik said.

“Okay,” my handle is fae.mcadams on instagram and Twitter it’s beautifulfaee.”

Erik followed her on both. Fae waited for his notification to pop up and she returned the follow.

“Don’t use it much.” Erik revealed.

I can see that. Last post was a year ago on instagram.”

She looked up at Erik through her lashes with tender eyes.

“I’ll see you around, neighbor.” Erik said.

“Likewise,” Fae smiled, “Bye, Erik.”

A few days had gone by and Erik hadn’t seen Fae. He hoped to catch her leaving her apartment or coming in from work. So, to stroke his curiosity, he pulled up her Instagram to just have a look. He’d just finished a training session with a client and went to do his own workout. He worked for Equinox in between jobs. He brings a holistic approach to his workouts and although they may be advanced, his clients leave the gym satisfied and transformed.

Erik did a little bit of cardio first to warm up and then he hit the weights. Today was lower body day for him. He started with heavy back squats, three sets with five to seven reps. He went on to doing barbell RDLs, leg extensions, and calf raises all with the same reps. He finished his workout with a core circuit and headed for the showers.

In the locker room, Erik took a minute to admire his physique. His tattoos stood out against his sculpted arms from all the sweat dripping down his body. He took a few pictures with no real intention of uploading them to his social media, just as progress pics. He just got back into sculpting his body more than bulking up.

After taking a shower, Erik got dressed in an all black hoodie with matching joggers and headed back to his apartment. The drive over only took him twenty minutes. He entered his building greeting the security at the door before walking over to his mailbox. He didn’t expect to find anything except for bills and a few magazines he wasn’t going to keep. Sifting through his mail, he strolled over to the elevators the same time a dark skinned male and a light skinned woman did.

Erik looked up and noticed the guy in passing but not so much as the woman. The elevator doors opened and he entered first, pressing button thirteen. They came in behind him, the woman giggling. Erik turned to look at them over his shoulder to get their attention.

“Which floor?” Erik questioned.

“My bad, thirteen, boss,” the man replied.

Erik nodded and focused his attention back to the elevator doors. He had his AirPod Max headphones halfway covering his ears so that he was aware of his surroundings. The woman had auburn hair sleek down her back and she was dressed like she’d just returned from brunch. The man with her was dressed in flashy attire, all designer, drawing a lot of attention to himself.

“‘Dell,” the woman whispered, “You owe me for last time.”

“I gotchu, baby.”

The elevator doors opened and Erik went his way. The couple left the elevator with their hands all over each other. Erik gave them one final look at had to do a double take when he noticed which apartment they were heading to. The man apparently named Dell opened the door while the pretty yellow bone wrapped her arms around his waist. She noticed Erik was watching and gave him a flirty wink.

“Yo, you good?”

Erik slowly pulled his eyes away from the woman to look at him.

“I said, you good?”

His tone was abrasive and Erik simply chuckled with a shake of his head.

“Yo, dead-ass, you keep staring like you got a problem?”

“Calm down, Cordell, it’s cool. Ain’t that serious.”

“I’m only asking questions,” Cordell gave Erik an icy look with his lip turned up into a mug.

“Why don’t you go inside before you get yourself hurt." Erik said with an even tone of voice, just the slightest bit of playfulness. He knew dudes like Cordell very well. Liked to play tough in front of their bitch. He could see that man shaking from where he stood.

Erik walked into his apartment and shut the door behind him. He could still hear the woman trying to calm Cordell down. As long as he didn’t come knocking on Erik’s door, he can talk until he’s blue in the face. Erik wasn’t much for talking.

He flopped down on his couch and mulled over what he’d just witnessed. All he could think about was Fae. What type of dumb ass piece of shit do you have to be to cheat on a woman and disrespect her by bringing her back to where she lays her head? He hardly knew Fae and he was so furious.

Erik went to Instagram and he didn’t need to go to her page, she was the first thing he saw as soon as he opened Instagram.

Outfit of the day. First day back to work as Lead Curator! I’m so excited for this journey 🤎 🖼️

Erik went to her page and was blessed once again with how fine this fucking woman is.

He clicked on a picture that he knew was from a few days ago when they went to the dog park.

How could you cheat on this? Erik needed to tell her. She needed to know that her man was doing her dirty.

_ES87: Big Deuce! 🐾

Erik got a reply back two minutes later beneath his comment.

fae.mcadams: ☺️

Going to his notifications he noticed ten. Fae had liked pretty much all of his photos. Erik couldn’t help but to smirk. He decided to DM her.

_ES87: what’s good mama Deuce!

All he could think about was her cheating boyfriend. He didn’t feel right telling her about it through a DM. If he was going to let her know, it was going to happen in person.

fae.mcadams: nothing much daddy Diesel!

_ES87: are you supposed to be on your phone at work?

fae.mcadams: I’m off actually 🤨

_ES87: Any plans for your evening?

fae.mcadams: my boyfriend is taking me out to celebrate my promotion.

Your boyfriend is fucking some other bitch brains out at the moment.

_ES87: have fun. Much deserved ✨

fae.mcadams: thank you.

Fae got home and she was happy to be in her domain and away from work. It was a pretty busy day for her. She took off her heels and greeted Deuce at the door. He licked her affectionately and Fae went looking for Cordell. She found him in the living room with a gift bag and a big grin.

“Hey, beautiful,” Cordell kissed Fae, “Your gift for being such a hard-working woman.”

“Thank you,” Fae beamed, “I wonder what it is.”

Fae sat the bag down on the coffee table and she pulled out a Louis Vuitton box. She gasped and looked up at Cordell with wide eyes.

“No you didn’t!”

Cordell laughed as he watched Fae rip the top off of the box and pull out the most gorgeous bag she’s ever owned. She had a Louis Vuitton bag years ago but it had gotten damaged in a house fire back in Jersey. She pulled out the cutest little bag that would be perfect whenever she went out for drinks and needed something small to carry her things.

“It’s just perfect,” Fae pouted, “Thank you so much!”

Fae jumped into Cordell’s arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. She stared longingly into his eyes before pecking his lips a few times. He tapped her on the butt and then let her back down. Fae grabbed her gift and headed for her room, giddy and smiling from ear to ear.

“We got dinner reservations in about two hours!” Cordell shouted from the couch.

“I’m gonna freshen up and get ready now!”

Fae undressed and went to take a shower. She double cleansed, exfoliated, rubbed down in body oil, and spritzed herself all over with Eilish Eau de Parfum. She got dressed in a black turtleneck dress and paired it with black boots and her new bag. She styled her hair in a half-up, half-down look and accessorized with gold jewelry. She walked out to find Cordell wearing an off-white cable-knit sweater with black jeans and black Timbs. He had on his gold Rolex and gold cross chain. He looked great and his outfit complimented hers. As they were leaving hand-in-hand, Erik was exiting his apartment dressed in black jeans as well with an olive green crew neck, and black Doc Martens. He had diamond studs in both of his ears, rings on his fingers, and a thick diamond Cuban link hanging from his neck.

Erik and Fae locked eyes and Erik was devouring her with one look. There was no denying his attraction to Fae. He started from her feet all the way up to her hair, dragging his eyes over her frame slowly, like he was studying a canvas. Fae could feel her stomach lurch when his sensual gaze focused on hers again. He was silently telling her that she looked damn good. When he looked away at Cordell, his eyes became cold and menacing. Fae looked at Cordell and he mirrored Erik’s expression.

What the hell is going on?

“Hi,” Erik greeted Fae before pressing the down button on the elevator.

“Hello.”

It was safe that they didn’t mention names. Something transpired between the two of them and Fae wanted to know what happened.

They all entered the elevator, Cordell with his arm around Fae, pulling her close, while Erik remained in front of them, keeping his eyes forward. It was eerily silent the entire ride down. They made it to the lobby floor and Erik stepped out first. Fae went ahead of Cordell and when she stepped out she shared a sneaky glance with Erik. What happened next she wasn’t prepared for.

“You look amazing.”

Fae's eyes went round with surprise at his boldness. She parted her glossy lips to say something, but Cordell grabbed her hand, leading her in the opposite direction.

“I swear, this nigga is asking to get his ass beat.” Cordell spoke angrily.

Erik smirked and walked towards the garage entrance. But he didn’t leave without a final word.

“Don’t hurt ‘em love.”

Fae blushed and gave Cordell a stern look for him to chill. He was so pissed a vein appeared in the middle of his forehead.

“Let’s go, the ride is waiting,” Fae lightly shoved Cordell and he finally walked out of the building.

The ride over was uncomfortable. Fae would cut her eyes to Cordell and see him jerking his leg and blowing out his breath harshly. Fae grabbed his hand and rubbed it with her thumb to calm him down.

“Do you want to tell me what happened back there?”

“Ask that nigga. I don’t even know that clown. He had the issue with me first.”

“Cordell,” Fae looked heavenward, “It was just a compliment. If that’s why you’re upset you really shouldn’t be. I’m your woman.”

“This Michael B. Jordan looking-ass nigga got one more time to look at me like he wanna do something.”

Fae shut her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose.

“And do you know him or something?”

“I’ve seen him in passing, Cordell.”

Fae felt small beneath his accusatory gaze. She knew that she’d done more than see him in passing. She spent a lot of time with him some days ago with their dogs and exchanged socials. She even stalked his Instagram page, liking all of his photos. And his Twitter, on the surface level it looked innocent with not many posts, but his likes…

“You let me know if he tries anything, Fae. I’ll knock his ass out, dead-ass.”

“Cordell, are we going to talk about this all night? Everything was going so well.”

Cordell dragged his hand down his face.

“I’m sorry.”

He grabbed Fae by the hand and brought it to his lips to kiss.

“This is supposed to be your special day.”

“It is. And you’re ruining it.” Fae said with a whiny voice.

Cordell chuckled, “I am. Daddy sorry.”

It’s been a week since they both crossed paths.

But Fae didn’t stop looking through his Instagram.

She spent an unhealthy amount of minutes staring at his pictures.

And an even unhealthier amount of minutes scrolling through his Twitter likes. Post after post after post had her squirming. It’s obvious that’s his passion. Fae had it bad. So bad.

What was she thinking?! Fae stood up from her work desk and gathered her things to leave. She wasn’t going to get herself caught up. She’d never been this distracted by another man in her life. Fae bid farewell to her coworkers and made her way towards her car. She got in and followed the exit out of the garage and out onto the bustling New York streets. She preferred to drive in silence to keep her focused.

Her fingers tapped impatiently against her stirring wheel twenty minutes into traffic. All she could think about was Erik’s body. His voice. His eyes. His Twitter likes. She was losing it. She knew it was wrong to think these thoughts about him. Fae also knew that she had to distance herself from Erik indefinitely. She’s in a relationship and it’s not appropriate to allow another man to flirt with her.

Finally home, she parked her car and took her time exiting. Her back was turned and she was reaching for her work bag when she was startled by a pair of hands on her waist. She shot up and turned quickly, sighing with relief before glaring at him.

“Erik! Don’t do that. What is wrong with you?”

“My bad, ma,” Erik furrowed his brows, “I called you like three times just now.”

“…you did?”

Erik slowly nodded his head, “yeah. I’m sorry I scared you. Need some help?”

“No thanks,” Fae shut her car door and slipped past him.

“How was work?”

Her eyes took in his appearance and she wished she hadn’t. He had on a leather letterman jacket, a white T-shirt that clung to his chest and torso, and medium blue denim jeans with Jordan’s on his feet. His locs looked freshly retwisted and that tapered fade was lined up with the sharpest clippers known to man.

“Productive.”

Erik opened the door for her and Fae thanked him. She walked as fast as she could to the elevators but Erik was right on her heels.

“Sorry about last week.”

Fae looked up at Erik, “It’s okay.”

“You don’t look like it’s okay. You look like you’re mad at me.”

They entered the elevator and Fae pressed the button before Erik’s finger could even touch it. He blinked his eyes and poked his lip out playfully.

“I’m not mad at you.” Fae said with a flat tone.

“Uh-huh.”

Fae kept staring at his hair and he caught her looking. Erik chuckled, hands in his pockets.

“How my boy Deuce doing?”

“He’s good. Diesel?”

“Same old pit.” Erik said.

Erik rocked back and forth on his heels as if he wanted to say something.

“You okay?” Fae asked, genuinely concerned.

“…Whatchu got planned for tonight?”

Fae felt her stomach do a somersault.

“Uh—Erik–I don’t think—”

“Fae,” Erik turned to look at her, “I wanna tell you something…something important…something you should know. I figured you could meet me at that bar across the street. It’s not a date, I promise.”

Fae studied his face, looking for any signs of untrustworthiness. He didn’t take his eyes off of her, and he looked upset about something. She wondered if this had anything to do with Cordell. She’d been trying and trying for days now to get him to open up and he keeps shutting her out. They even argued about it a few times. This could be her chance to find out what the hell happened.

“Alright. I can meet you at the bar tonight. To talk.”

Fae emphasized on the talk.

“Yes ma’am. Just talking.”

Erik gave her a smirk and held the elevator door for her. She gave him a shy smile before walking towards her apartment.

She had to figure out what she was going to wear.

@goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @theeblackmedusa @lisayourworries @bellleame @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cecereads209 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixit @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @bakarisprxncess @melodicheauxxlovesfood @bxolux @sweet2krazee @bluesole16 @90sisthenew80s @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @angelicniah @queenfaithmarie @soulfulbeauty19 @asweet-serendipity @aijha @novaniskye@princessxotwod@callmemckenzieee@blowmymbackout @lahuttor@momobaby227@blackerthings @kenbieee @palmstreesallday @kokokonako

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger

464 notes · View notes

moralesispunk · 2 months

Text

no because simon gives the energy of that dad who is roped into being assistant coach for his kids football team by the other dad who is the manager

who has to have the bag filled with balls and a box of reflective bibs in the boot of his car, the bottles of water and bananas for the snack, who is there with his kid early setting up the cones and goals on the pitch

who takes his job as assistant coach serious even if it is under tens football but is there wiping away the tears of the kids who fall down and hurt themselves or miss a goal

he's constantly tying shoelaces, tying up hair that's come loose, clapping and shouting "well done" "that's okay, you'll get it next time"

who gets his kid a treat on the way home to you and his other kid who you were taking to their saturday morning sports club, the four of you meeting back at the house for a rundown of that mornings games as you make lunch and simon puts the bibs in the wash for training on tuesday

who will tell his kids well done whether they win or lose, come first or last, because he loves them and wants them to know it

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n

365 notes · View notes

inkluvs · 4 months

Note

babes idk what i’m going through but it’s not a slay and your little finnick blurb thingys bring me so much joyyy 😭😭😭 i don’t even know what im requesting but just more finnick thoughts

stop it ily tysm <3 here r some hcs / thoughts andd if something doesn’t make sense for the universe just assume its modern! skfjsjf

>> finnick runs warm and during the summer he sleeps without a shirt on so he’s basically like ur own heater <3 a plus is that if ur cold especially during the colder months he’d hold u flush against human at some point during the night he’d end up half on top of u <3

>> he also defo needs white noise or something to fall asleep because he’s so used to having the waves crashing onto the shore in the background? maybe just a fan or something just for the noise <3 but i think when the fan doesn’t work or just when both of u r too tired to turn it on, u breathing has the same affect as white noise for him <3

>> this is oddly out of place but like. a vision of watching the sunrise with him is coming to me right now <3 maybe he woke up from a nightmare or maybe he just intended to go out fishing n he ended up sitting on the steps of ur porch overlooking the beach a little too long. so u join him. half asleep and searching for his body heat with a blanket splayed over your shoulders and you lay on him, watching the sky burst with red and orange and shift until only the sun is reflecting off of the waves <3

>> i will never ever ever get over finnick and his knit sweater imagine him and his closet full of knit sweaters that only really make an appearance during the colder months but he just looks so soft in them u can’t help but want to squeeze him <3

>> i don’t think finnick is a coffee guy in the sense that he doesn’t like the way it makes him feel? he’s definitely more of a tea person n he’d make u a mug whenever he wants one n he’d put a little honey in yours to make it sweet <3 he’d defo make u coffee if u wanted some though

>> he’d get u a little sweet treat or present every time he stops by the market <3 a bag of candy or some banana bread or a danish or some earrings really whatever reminds him of u in the moment <3 i think it’d get to a point where even the storekeepers would know it’s for u like “this is for that partner of yours yeah? i have this pastry that i saved for them”

ok that’s it thank u for this babe i hope this is ok <3 ps i’m writing this right before i go to bed so none of it is proof read sorry LMAO <3

#ivy’s inbox 💌#anon <3 #ivy is writing !#thgluvs #finnick odair (ivy’s version)#finnick odair #finnick odair headcanons #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fluff #thg finnick #finnick

535 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 4 months

Note

Harry and yn and there two kids on holiday and fans come up to them and harry asks them to respect there privacy and all that?

Caribbean Privacy.

my masterlist || ask my anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here !!

authors note - first blurb of 2024 people and it’s based on the brand new photos we got, so enjoy my loves.

word count - 1.7k

in which, you and harry decided to go for a little family holiday to start the new year off on the right foot, and went to a caribbean island, where your just trying to enjoy yourselves, and spend some quality time with your two children, when a couple of fans spot your husband.

As the first light of the new year streamed through the curtains, you woke up to the sweet realization that your partner had planned a surprise holiday to the Caribbean.

The joy in your heart was mirrored in the excited expressions of Kai, your energetic five-year-old, and little Lexi, who had just turned six months old. The promise of sun-soaked beaches and turquoise waters made the early morning hustle of packing bags and herding the family to the airport an adventure in itself.

Arriving at your tropical destination, the sound of gentle waves and the warmth of the sun embraced you. The resort's palm-fringed surroundings set the stage for a family retreat filled with laughter and cherished moments.

The holiday would be lasting a total of two weeks and so far the four of you had been there for four out of a possible fourteen.

The first day was spent chilling and getting the kids into a routine, the second day was filled with sunbathing and the third day you took the kids to do some activities so that they wouldn’t get too bored.

It was the afternoon of the fourth day at the resort, for a majority of the morning you had all gone for a walk, trying to get your bearings of where you were going to be staying.

It was nearing one pm now, and the four of you were making your way to the hotel outdoor restaurant, where other families, friends and couples were currently sat, all decked out in summer clothes just like you and your family were.

The rhythmic roll of the stroller, carrying the enchanting Lexi, created a soothing background to the lively atmosphere. Harry, with Kai perched on his shoulders, exuded paternal pride as his son's tiny fingers playfully explored the newly sprouting hair after a recent buzz cut.

The infectious giggles from Kai echoed through the space, forming a symphony of joy that seemed to harmonize with the clinking of cutlery and murmurs of other guests.

Just moments later, a courteous waiter approached, exuding the charm of the Caribbean hospitality.

"Good afternoon! Can I start you off with some drinks?" he inquired with a warm smile.

Harry, with a chuckle, ordered a beer for himself, emphasising that it was a well-deserved vacation treat.

Kai, his eyes sparkling, announced proudly, "Chocolate milkshake, please!"

You joined in, opting for a refreshing mojito to complement the tropical ambiance. The waiter, noting down the orders, promised to return shortly with the concoctions that would add an extra layer of delight to your family gathering.

The backdrop of the restaurant's tropical charm provided the perfect setting for a moment of connection.

"This surprise vacation was a brilliant idea," you remarked, a smile playing on your lips.

Harry, his eyes filled with satisfaction, responded, "M’figured we all needed a break, and what better way t’start the year?"

Kai, still perched atop his father's shoulders, chimed in, "I like the beach, Mommy! Can we build a sandcastle tomorrow?"

His enthusiasm was infectious, prompting laughter from both you and Harry.

"Absolutely, buddy! We'll build the biggest sandcastle the beach ‘as ever seen," Harry promised, ruffling Kai's hair.

November 2019, you gave birth to Kai Robin Styles, at a home birth in yours and Harry’s London home.

As the conversation continued, you found yourselves reflecting on the year that had passed and the excitement of what lay ahead.

“ ‘Member when Lex was just a tiny bump?" Harry mused, glancing affectionately at your baby girl. "Now look at her, enjoying her first vacation. Time really does fly,"

You had gone into Labour with Lexi Anne Styles after Harry’s Show in Warsaw, the birth wasn’t very traumatic but the fact that you have birth in the backstage area of a stadium add a million different stress levels.

The waiter returned with a tray of drinks, delivering a frothy beer for Harry, a velvety chocolate milkshake for Kai, and a refreshing mojito for yourself.

The clinking of glasses marked the beginning of a shared toast.

"To family adventures and new beginnings," Harry proposed, raising his beer.

It wasn’t long before you had placed your food orders, and then it was back to chit chatting.

Lexi began to express her hunger with soft whimpers from the comfort of her stroller. Harry, always attuned to his children's needs, suggested, "Looks like someone's ready f’a meal. How about I feed her?"

Agreeing with a smile, you watched affectionately as Harry gently lifted Lexi from the stroller. With practised ease, he retrieved the pre-made bottle from the baby bag. Cradling Lexi in his arms, he began a tender dialogue, showering her with words of endearment.

"Y’know, Love bug, y’the most perfect baby in the world. Mom and I are so lucky t’have you," he whispered, his words infused with a genuine warmth that mirrored the love you both felt for your little one.

As Harry spoke to Lexi, your gaze shifted to Kai, who was deeply immersed in coloring his book. His tiny fingers danced across the paper, creating vibrant strokes that mirrored the lively atmosphere of the Caribbean surroundings. The restaurant transformed into a canvas of family moments — the quiet focus of an older brother, the nurturing presence of a father, and the unspoken connection between mother and daughter.

Amidst the lively ambiance of the restaurant, you couldn't help but notice a group of girls at a nearby table who seemed to have recognized your husband. Whispers and excited glances were exchanged among them, and you could see them mustering the courage to approach him for a photo.

Sensing their intentions, you leaned in to Harry and discreetly warned him about the approaching fangirls.

Harry, with a resigned sigh, glanced over his shoulder and nodded.

"Just ignore ‘em, love. It happens," he reassured you, his eyes reflecting the weariness of a man accustomed to such encounters.

The prospect of being in the spotlight, even during a family dinner, was not a new experience for him. Grateful that your kids were facing away, oblivious to the attention, you both focused on enjoying the moment together as a family.

As the girls behind you worked up the courage to approach, you and Harry engaged in casual conversation, attempting to divert attention from the brewing fan encounter.

"Remember that time in Paris?" you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Harry chuckled, because he knew exactly what you were talking about.

"Good times," he agreed, sharing a smile with you, appreciating the effort to shield your family from the attention that occasionally came with his public persona.

“H, there definitely coming.”

Harry, glancing over his shoulder, nodded in acknowledgment.

"Yeah, I see them. Just give them a friendly smile if they approach, and I'll handle it. S’not let it bother us," he suggested, his voice carrying a hint of resignation.

He was no stranger to such encounters, having navigated the challenges of fame before. The weariness in his eyes reflected a desire for a quiet family dinner undisturbed by fan interactions.

The restaurant buzzed with activity as the group of excited fans approached your table.

"Harry, we're such huge fans! Can we get a quick photo and an autograph?" one of them eagerly requested, holding out a notepad and a pen.

With a gracious smile, Harry acknowledged their enthusiasm.

"M’grateful f’your support, but at the moment, we're trying to have a quiet family dinner, so I won't be able to do autographs right now," he gently explained, a polite refusal delivered with a sense of understanding.

Despite his explanation, the fans persisted, urging for both a photo and an autograph. The atmosphere at the table shifted as Lexi, nestled in Harry's lap, started to express her unease with a few whimpers.

Sensing his sister's discomfort, Kai moved closer to your side, seeking comfort in the familiar presence of family. Harry, noticing the subtle disruption, addressed the fans with empathy.

The fans, eager to capture a moment with their idol, continued to press for both a photo and an autograph. Harry, maintaining his composure, gently reiterated, "I really appreciate y’support, but right now, We're just trying t’enjoy a family dinner without any interruptions."

The fans, realizing the impact on the children, paused for a moment. Harry, sensing the need to reinforce the boundary, continued,

"Thanks for understanding." His words were delivered with a blend of gratitude and a protective instinct for his family.

As the fans reluctantly stepped back, a mix of disappointment and understanding painted their expressions. Your family returned to the rhythm of your evening, attempting to reclaim the sense of tranquillity that had been momentarily disrupted. Lexi, still cradled in Harry's arms, gradually settled, comforted by the familiar presence of her parents and brother.

Harry, with a reassuring smile, turned his attention back to the dinner table.

"Sorry about that, m’love," he whispered to you, the gentle apology carrying the weight of the delicate balancing act that came with his fame.

"It's alright," you responded, understanding the complexities of navigating public and private moments.

Kai, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, looked up from his colouring book with a curious expression.

"Why did those people want pictures, Mommy?" he asked, his innocent curiosity breaking the momentary tension.

You looked down to his eye level, offering a simple yet honest explanation, "Sometimes, people recognize Daddy from his work, and they want to say hello or take a picture because they really like what he does."

Harry, appreciating your delicate handling of the situation, chimed in,

"That's right, buddy. Daddy's work makes people happy, and sometimes they just want to share that happiness with us."

Sensing his sons discomfort, Harry gently ushered him over, placing him on the other side of his lap.

"Hey, Kai, come here, sweet boy," Harry said softly, creating a protective space for him. As Kai nestled in closer,

Harry continued, "I want you t’know that no matter what happens, Daddy will always keep you safe. Those moments might be a bit strange, but we're a team, okay?"

Kai, his big brown eyes searching for reassurance, nodded in understanding. "

Team," he echoed, a small smile breaking through the remnants of unease.

Harry wrapped his arm around Kai, holding him close to his chest.

"Exactly, little man. We're a team, and nothing will ever change that," Harry affirmed, his voice a soothing melody of love and comfort.

622 notes · View notes

ooshu · 11 months

Text

falling in love with haechan wasn’t planned.

it started with a walk on that friday night after your long work shift. he was waiting for you. hell, he wasn’t even from around. but he stood there with a chinese takeout in one hand. “breathe a little!”, the enthusiastic one exclaimed. he didn’t like seeing you frown and knowing you haven’t smiled even just a bit for a day. and so you nodded. haechan swore he was head-over-heels.

as haechan kept asking from “how was your day today?”, “does your boss treat you well?” to “did you have lunch?”, the question suddenly escalated to:

“would you go out with someone like me?”

“huh?”, you might have heard differently because the silly boy beside you started to eat his food.

haechan chewed his food fast so he could repeat: “i said… would you go out with someone like me…?”

you hit his arm playfully. “ah, what are you talking about, haech?”

“i mean… hypothetically speaking. would you go out with a haechan?”

“with a haechan?” you furrowed your eyebrows. oh, what a silly man.

“yes, with a haechan. i stand out from the rest, you know?” he nudged you on the shoulders. “you’d be lucky to end up someone like me.”

“you’re so full of shit, haech.”

“willing to be cheesy and anything for you.”, he winked.

so he tossed his empty food into the nearest bin. then there was this silence, a complete total silence as you two continued walking. but it was so nice, so pleasant. it just felt so right. it felt so fitting that it scared you that you wanted to feel the warmth of his body. there’s this strong urge to bury your head in his chest. falling in love was an unfamiliar, frightening feeling. it consumes you to the bone. oh, how clueless the boy beside you was.

and loving a haechan, you cursed cupid for hitting the wrong person with his lovestruck arrow. because he is like this to everyone—so lovingly, so sweet, so reliable, to the point you’ve been confused about where to draw the line between being friends and potential lovers.

but you slowly started reaching for his hand. it looked really soft. you wanted to grab it and interlock your fingers with his and say, “yes, i would go out with someone like you, haech.” and—

suddenly you curled your fist into a ball and pulled out when a honk of a car suddenly was heard. you came back to your senses.

haechan noticed. just so you wish he didn’t.

“i’ll take you home.”

“no? you’ve already taken me into the bus shed, haech.”, you insisted. “you promised you wouldn’t go further.”

“but what if someone takes you?”

“haech-”

“…from me?”

fuck. you thought. here he goes again. but you shrugged it off with a laugh. but haechan loved it on you, when you wear it—your smile. and his heart would burst to know your smile was because of him.

the bus arrived and he let you get on first. but you knew haechan liked taking the window seat, so you let him be.

you sat together. he was watching the cars passing by along with the skyscrapers shining at night. would it be unrealistic to dream of someone, you, as high as these buildings?, he wonders. then you looked at him, carefully admiring his sde features. memorizing every line and shape; how his lips would slightly pucker and the bridge of his nose you’d always want to trace and pinch. and little did you know he was watching you from the reflection of the window.

and when he tilted his head back at the front, you steered yours away. but your eyes fell down and roamed around until you see his hand over his bag. haechan looked at you, and he started slightly tapping his fingers on the leather. you wanted to reach for them again but… but—

then you made it less obvious as possible to go back looking at his face, but you couldn’t as your head tries its best to look forward. so your sight landed as farther as this: the crook of his neck, his shoulder blades you would want to lean onto. it’s sad to say your heart absentmindedly made haechan your home, your comfort, your confidant, even though he wasn’t yours.

so you came back to your senses once again. you leaned your head backward fell onto the back of the seat and sighed. you watched the people in front of you as they ride forwards.

and suddenly, haechan reached for your hand and interlocked it with yours.

you looked at him dumbfoundedly; almost taken aback.

then he slowly reached for your head and leaned it on his shoulders. you thought it was a bit uncomfortable so you said, “it’s okay, haech.” because instead, you wanted to nuzzle your head at the crook of his neck. but you believed you weren’t going to fit in, just like the two of you, which you believed. he’s still holding your hand though. so firm yet so soft, how could it this paradox be possible?

so haechan let go of your hand.

you almost yearned for the touch. god, the loss was so overwhelming, you could almost cry. you were dangerously so drawn to haechan, the thought of it would make you flinch. you had to go away. i have to go away. you reiterated at the back of your mind. god, please, help me. how cruel must you become?

but then he wrapped the same arm around your shoulders and enveloped you with his body. he adjusted his body down so your head would lay on the crook of his neck.

and just like that, you surrender.

and nothing haechan would want in this world but to wish this bus wouldn’t stop driving.

it’s okay to fall in love with me, love.

happy birthday, donghyuck lee.

1K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 19 days

Text

The Quiet Ones 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: I slept for like ten hours and it was fucking wild.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You watch the long needle slide out from under your skin. You don’t feel it much. That man, Lloyd, loops the tube around the IV bag stand. You sit in the bed still, disoriented and dull. You can feel the tension buzzing off of him, as if he’s holding himself back. That scares you more than anything he’s done.

Before you can say or do anything, your stomach growls. The tumble is painful as your insides squeeze violently. He looks at you and takes your hand, tugging you towards the edge as he snickers.

“Hungry, jellybean?” He teases, “come on. I’ll make you a nice omelet.” He pulls until you shimmy across the bed. You turn your legs out and can’t help but use his strength to stand. He’s patient as he easily hauls you up. “You okay, babykins? I could carry you. Like before.”

“N-no,” you try to wiggle your hand free but his grip is unbreakable. He squeezes and you quit your resistance.

“You might be a bit groggy, that’s normal. The smoke, the meds--”

“Meds?”

“Well, I slipped a bit extra in the bag,” he shrugs as he glances over at the IV, “just so you could sleep.”

You look at him, your horror burning from your eyes. He grins proudly and swings your arm, turning to lead you to the door. You take short steps, muscles stiff and achy, shoulders wracked from sleeping on your back. You look down at yourself and shudder; at least you’re still wearing your own clothes.

“I’ve been doing cooking classes. I can do a florentine that will blow your tits off,” he boasts as he angles you through the door.

The hall is airy and echoey. The house must be huge. You get that sense easily. You don’t need to go around and count the rooms. He takes you down the long hallway and you stop at the top of a set of stairs. They bend in the middle but more corning, there’s a large space between each. They’re polished to a shine and look slippery as the morning reflects off of them.

“Just a step at a time,” he goads as you latch onto the railing.

You put a foot down and grip both him and the railing. Another tide of wooziness comes over you. It could be what he gave you or your days of restriction, but it’s too much. The world is too much.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos as you take a second step down.

This is strange. It reminds you of a movie you watched as a kid with a maze and twisting and turning walkways and a taunting villain. You’ve awoken in his trap and you see no escape in sight.

You slip on the third and let out a squeak as you feel yourself falling. He’s quick to catch you, scooping you up easily even in the narrow space. He lifts you and continues down swiftly, bringing you onto flat ground. You murmur and rub your head as you feel his heartbeat against your arm.

You feel a tickle in your hair and hear him take a deep breath. Is he smelling you? You repress a shiver at the thought as your eyes struggle to focus on the shapes all around you.

He carries you into another room, a kitchen, as spacious and sleek as any other part of the strange house. A white marble counter lines two walls and wraps around into full C, marking off the cooking space. On the other side, there’s glass table in an abstract, asymmetric shape with metal frame chairs around it. The whole place is out of one of those design magazines. All impractical at the expense of aesthetic.

He sits you in one of the chairs, it’s just a rigid as you expect. He stays bent, holding you by the shoulders until your hold yourself up. He drags his hands down your arms as he reluctantly pulls away. You flutter your lashes and rub your eye sockets, trying to block out your reality.

“My sleepy bean,” he beams and plants a kiss on the top of your head. “So how about it? Eggs florentine? Or are you in the mood for something a bit sweeter? I’ve perfected my crepes.”

You grumble and drop your hands slowly, crossing your arms as a chill rolls through you. You feel it pricking in your chest and across your skin. You’re not wearing a bra and your tee shirt is thin. You keep your arms locked.

You listen to him moving around. You don’t know what to do. You’re too weak to do anything. Even if you could get on the other side of the walls, you have no idea where you are. Where help could be.

You rock as your fear bubbles up. Why is he doing this? Why does he think you want him? Why you? Of all people. You mind your business, you keep your head down, eyes to yourself... you don’t deserve this.

You glance over at him as he starts to hum. Your lip quivers as you watch his shoulders blades stretch the fabric of his shirt. He’s a bit ridiculous in a full set of satin pajamas, the dark black speckled with a subtle grey leopard print. He’s too much.

You turn your head straight and let it hang. You resign yourself to helplessness. You have to be logical about this. You can’t spark his suspicion to soon. You have to wait for a window and then... figure that out, you guess. You don’t like uncertainty. You have a routine and you keep to it. That’s what keeps you safe. Or so you thought.

“...wise men say, only fools rush in...” he sings softly and you wince. The lyrics of the Elvis ballad make your skin crawl. He’s actually deranged. You don’t know him, you're strangers.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I know tree nuts are a no go,” he chimes as he whisks, turning to you with a broad smile.

You blink at him. How does he know that?

“Don’t think you’ll be needing any but I also got penicillin on the no go list and the latex thing... there’s alternatives,” he chuckles and you furrow your brow. “How’s that ticker doing? You been taking lots of iron?”

Your body hollows out. How much does he know about you? How? You can guess he’s snooped around your medical records. Obviously, he’s a man with criminalistic leanings. Is this even his house? Has he taken you to a fortress he commandeered by force? Is there some terrified family bound in the basement? Is there a basement?

He continues to futz around the kitchen as you curl your shoulders down and chew on your lips. Speaking of your heart, it’s beating again, racing, almost painfully. You’re a mouse trapped in the corner by the feline with his bristly whiskers.

Your eyes wander over to the large windows and you stare out at the curated landscape. The property is beautiful and lush. You imagine a whole team maintains the perfectly trimmed hedges and colourful blooms. The stone mosaic pathway and the leafy archway over a bench. It’s like a dream, more so, a twisted nightmare painted in hues of fantasy.

A plate clinks down before you and a sweet aroma brings you back inside. You face forward as Lloyd steps back on his heel, watching you with anticipation. You look at him then the plate. He pulls out a chair and plops himself down, planting his elbow as he cups his chin and watches.

“Let me know what you think,” he insists.

You take a breath and unlock your arms. Slowly, you drag them apart and take the thick butter knife and long fork. The cutlery feels too big for your small hands. You lean forward as the drizzle of dark syrup across the rolled crepe lures you in. Your stomach roars noisily and he giggles.

“Aw, you must be starving,” he muses, “please eat, baby, I don’t want you to ever go hungry again.”

You exhale through a ripple of disgust. You cut into the thin crepe and into the filling. Slice off the end of the roll and scoop it up with the filling. You carefully open your mouth around the fork and take a bite. Your eyes flit up to meet Lloyd’s as his gaze sticks on you. There are flames in his blue irises.

You pull your mouth off the fork in embarrassment as he hums. He’s a weird, weird man. All of this is weird. Surreal.

You look down at the butter knife and contemplate the gold cutlery. It’s heavy, it would hurt if you used the handle to give him a conk, but the blade is too dull to do much. It can slice through a crepe but wouldn’t do much on meat and bone. You don’t think you could do it, either. The thought of hurting others is just unnatural.

“Is it good? Tried my own combination,” he explains happily, “dark chocolate syrup, not too much sugar, some softened cream cheese in the middle with black cherry jam.”

You swallow and look around for something to wipe your lips. Short of a napkin, you lick your lip and clamp them together. He shifts in his chair, an act that makes you feel uncomfortable.

“Good,” you croak.

“Oh, wait,” he stands suddenly, “your coffee. Oopsie.”

He struts away and your stomach mulches the single bite greedily. As much as you want to be stubborn, you’re so hungry. And it’s delicious. It’s better than your usual flavourless fare. You could gobble it all down in a second but you won’t. You carefully cut out another bite as he returns with a tall mug.

He puts the cup down by your plate. You gulp down a forkful and set down the cutlery. You consider the mug before you take it, the white porcelain marked with the golden outline of a rose above the letter ‘Mrs.’. He has another in his hands, black but with a bowtie above ‘Mr.’. What the hell?

“Colombian dark roast. A little less caffeine so your heart won’t mind so much,” he says.

You nod and take the cup. The thought of coffee is enough to override your agitation. You take a sip and hold back a sigh. It’s good. You hate all of this but it’s all so good. You put the cup back and return your attention to the crepes. You pause and glance up at him. He doesn’t have a plate, just his cup.

“Oh, jellybean, you’re so sweet,” he smirks, “I gotta keep my protein up. I’ll have some eggs and a shake soon. Right now, you just worry about you.”

You dip your chin down and focus on eating. Small bites. You don’t want to seem too greedy. You don’t want him to see how much you need this. Does he know everything? Of course, he was watching but did he know the days you spent feeling as if your stomach was eating itself?

He pushes his hair back, trying to tidy the long strands as he watches you, “we’ll get washed up after breakfast. Then you can get settled in and relax. I’ll take care of everything else, alright? You just need to get all dolled up when the time comes,” he explains as he drags his fingertip around the tabletop, “not that you need to do very much.”

You just chew. What can you say or do? This man is straight up crazy. Not only are you his prisoner, he’s been stalking you. It doesn’t matter when it started, look where it’s ended. No, this can’t be the end.

“What’s...” you speak before you can think. You shake your head and smother your question with another bite.

“What? Go on, sugar lips, ask me anything? You wanna know my favourite colour? My favourite song?” His cheeks tint pink as he plays with a button on his pajamas.

You clear your throat and put down the fork and knife, “what’s going on... later?”

He tilts his head curiously.

“The... dress and... doll up?” You repeat his words flatly.

“That’s a surprise,” he trills as if it should be obvious. “Don’t wanna spoil it, do we?”

“I guess,” you sit back and fold your hands in your lap.

“You don’t gotta think about anything, sweet cheeks. You leave the thinking to me. I’m gonna take care of you,” he avows as his hand stretches across the front of his satin shirt. “You just gotta be you.”

You feel his gaze bearing down on you. You peek up to find his eyes slipping down and you feel them centre on your tee shirt, your nipples poking against the cotton. You hunch your shoulders and cross your arms again.

“How’s the coffee, jelly bean? You like it?” He tears his attention from your chest.

“Good, thank you,” you murmur.

“Ugh, I love hearing your voice,” he puts his coffee down and reaches between his legs. You blanch as he drags his chair closer as he lifts himself. He puts his hand on your knee, stroking with his thumb, “will you call me ‘honey’?”

You stare at him. Your cheek draw tight and your lips flatten. You want to shake off his touch and scream but that foggy glaze in his eyes deters you. This man is wild.

“Okay, er,” you gulp tightly and cough, “honey.”

He hums into a sigh and his hand slips higher on your leg before trail back down, “oh,” he shakes his shoulders, “that tingles. Do it again.”

You fight not to let your true emotion blaze through. You hug yourself tighter and bite down before you can muster the word, “honey.”

“Oh, baby, that’s nice,” he winks and sits back, eyes grazing up and down your body, “you cold? You’re all twisted up like a pretzel.”

You nod. It's an excuse you’ll gladly take.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner, jellybean?” He stands suddenly and you notice the way he tugs on the waistband of his pants. You turn your head, blurring your vision so everything around you is vague.

He rushes off and you wait. You don’t know what else to do. You’re still too weak to make a move. Whatever he gave you is potent. Or maybe, you’re just too scared to do more than shrink and surrender.

He returns with a fluffy purple robe in his hands. He comes around the back of your chair and you lean forward to let him drape it around you. He curls his hands over your shoulders and bends over you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“You need more coffee, baby cakes?” He asks as he kneads your shoulders.

“Still working on it,” you pull away from him and grab the cup, “thank you...” you let the words dangle in the silence, tension piquing, “honey.”

He sighs and draws away with a tickle up your neck, “mmm, isn’t this wonderful?”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #the quiet ones #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

303 notes · View notes