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#but i only have the patience for one a night i think
redflagshipwriter · 2 days
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Hot Ghouls in Your Area 8
Chapter 8
Masterpost
“You're just now going to campus?” Jazz said. Danny scowled ahead at the sidewalk. Her tone wasn't judgmental so much as mildly surprised. He still hated it. “That's a lot later than usual. Is everything alright?” Danny hunched his shoulders up and consciously reminded himself not to get defensive. He wasn't slacking. He'd gotten home after his class and slept 13 hours. He still felt wiped out.
“Ghost stuff,” he said cryptically. “Ruined my night.” He dodged someone on the sidewalk without thinking about it, used to the crowds by now.
Jazz inhaled sharply into his ear. “They're supposed to leave you alone to focus on your education,” she hissed. “Just so you know, I do have the venomous Fenton electric creep stick-”
“Yeah, I know,” Danny cut her off. She was probably holding it up right now, thumb on the trigger. He couldn't fight off the rueful smile. She had his back, didn't she? Always did. With that in mind… “I think I need help,” he admitted. Oof. Felt bad. Not as bad as failing his classes, though, which was the danger if he got pulled too deep into more Ghost bull honkey.
“Of course!” Jazz enthused. He stepped off the curb and then quick-stepped backwards to avoid getting hit by some asshole running the red light. Danny lifted up his free hand to flip them off as he hung on his heels on the edge of the pavement drop. He dropped lightly back onto the balls of his feet and jogged across the street.
Jazz was still talking, voice clear over the morning meld of honking and running engines. “How about you come over to my place after your classes tonight? My roommate is out for a conference.”
“You just don't want to come to Crime Alley,” Danny accused her. “Even for me, your beloved baby brother.” He dodged a car that was parked on the cross walk and made an ugly face at the driver. “Despite your professed love for crime, when it counts, it's all talk.”
“I don't love crime,” Jazz reiterated with her inhuman patience. She didn't take the bait of his deliberate mischaracterization of her career plans. “But I am exquisitely stabbable." Her tone went lofty with the brag. "So yes, I avoid Crime Alley.”
Danny blew an unimpressed raspberry to show what he thought of that.
He hadn't met anyone in Gotham yet who he thought would really throw Jazz for a loop. She was a 6ft 2 judo black belt, and she was liminally spooky as fuck. “No one would stab you,” he said, making it sound like an insult. His janky ass was more likely to get held up. "But fine, I'll haul my poor broken corpse all the way over there to do you a favor-”
“So I can do you a favor,” Jazz corrected wryly.
“My poor broken corpse,” Danny cut back in, because that was a really relevant factor to him. He put the back of his hand to his forehead and swooned a little. He felt like he'd been in a tumble dryer. Missing a full night of sleep was an insufferable insult to his desperate shoe-string construction of a healthy routine.
“I would so get robbed if I came there,” Jazz argued. “Maybe even kidnapped.” He could all but hear her flip her hair.
He snorted but let her keep her delicate feminine delusions about not being one of the scariest motherfuckers in the crime capital of the country. He wasn't actually worried about her interning at Arkham Asylum. Maybe he'd freaked out a little when she'd moved here, but that wasn't why he was here. No matter what anyone said.
“There's no immediate danger, right?” Jazz checked. “No reason I need to be concerned today?”
“Nah,” Danny reassured her, as the campus came into sight. He had about an hour before class to spend in the lab before his lecture. “It's not that kind of problem.” He felt his face arranged itself into a wry smile. “You might like this one.”
“Oh?” Jazz asked, intrigued. “Do tell.”
“Only after I've sworn you to perfect silence,” Danny shot back instantly. “I mean it, for real, you can't tell a soul living or dead or nonliving or-”
“I think I get it,” she cut him off. Jazz huffed. “As if I can't keep a secret. You think I can't keep secrets? I know the most incredible things that you could never dream up.”
“...Big if true,” Danny snarked, pretending that he wasn't extremely interested.
“You never knew what happened to the Robinsons,” Jazz said airily. “And you never will.”
“...that doesn't bother me at all,” Danny lied. He stopped walking.
“Ahuh,” Jazz said knowingly. “Hey, remember the neon cheese incident?”
Danny gritted his teeth. “Can't say I do,” he said. It was bullshit, and even he knew it wasn't convincing Jazz. He was dying to know the truth. It had been the talk of the town for weeks and was still occasionally featured on unsolved mystery podcasts. He'd gone far enough to ask the Dairy King, but even the dead wouldn't speak on it.
“Have a good day of classes, little brother,” Jazz said sweetly. She ended the call.
He rubbed at his temples. Ancients, she gave him a headache. She was fantastic. She was killing him and absolutely ruining his unlife. He couldn't even beg her for answers about the neon cheese, because if he managed to badger it out of her, it would prove she could be manipulated into telling secrets. That would be a loss anyway. It was more likely that either she didn't know anything or that she knew and her lips would stay sealed: Danny didn't have any to waste his breath.
He did a few calming rounds of breathing, now that he was thinking about it, and then went on with his day a bit invigorated by the familial aggravation.
Danny felt a little better about focusing on class now that he knew he could count on Jazz in his corner. She was the smartest person he knew. She could probably get him divorced by the end of the day. Hell, she probably already had a contingency plan for getting him a divorce. She was so ready for him to have a relationship so that he would have relationship problems to ask her about.
When he finished up on campus, Danny cut across town to pick up takeout food as an offering. He presented it to Jazz as soon as she opened the door, head bowed and food theatrically high.
“Oh, come in,” Jazz said, exasperated. She grabbed him by the back of his collar and bodily pulled him inside. “My neighbors are going to think I'm so weird, Danny!”
“My liege,” he intoned seriously. “I come bearing- ow! Stop hitting my- hey, my face!” Danny wrestled away from the horrible pinching grip his terrible sister had on his cheeks, scowling. “That hurt,” he complained. “Have you ever thought that you're getting caught up in the cycle of violence?”
“I don't lose sleep over it.” Jazz lowered herself delicately onto one of the weird puffs she had instead of chairs and made grabby hands at the takeout. “What did you get me?”
“Coal,” Danny snarked. But he handed over the bag without a fight and plopped himself onto the closest poof thing. He fully laid out and let his head flop past the edge to hang upside down.
“Inversion therapy, so chic,” Jazz said absently.
He considered flipping her off, but his balance was really off in this position and it would be hard to defend himself if she lunged at him. Hell, if she picked up his legs he'd probably tip over onto the floor. Danny dug his heels into the side of the poof in defensive preparation. He kept her in his peripheral vision.
“Oh, Malaysian,” Jazz enthused. “I wanted to have this!” She sounded a little too surprised.
He shot her a thumbs up. Two days ago, she'd sent him a screenshot of a text landing from someone else that had shown most of her screen was the active map app she was using to get to an appointment. The Malaysian restaurant had the star mark that she put on the places that she wanted to try.
He'd gambled that she hadn't gone yet because she hadn't had a late night at work. Jazz only got takeout with company or if she got home too late to cook.
“Cool,” Danny said, because he didn't want his rotten sister to think he cared about her interests. “It was on the way and it smelled good.”
Jazz hummed and put the food on the side table. “So I see.” She folded her fingers in front of her face and peered at him over the steeple. “What happened? What ghost do I need to soup with a fragrant combination of turmeric and saffron?”
“Please don't waste that, ghosts taste fine on their own,” Danny said.
Jazz grimaced. “Ew, Danny,” she enunciated carefully. She paused. “Ew.”
He shrugged and accidentally slipped a little closer to the floor. “Just saying. But actually, no one dead was involved, unless we count-”
“We don't count,” Jazz cut him off, serenely unbothered by his attempts to score empathy points off his death. She was a cold customer.
“Boo,” Danny said, because he knew his brand and respected ghost tradition. “Anyway, Jeremy Waters. Remember -”
“How could I forget,” Jazz muttered. She put her hands on her face.
“Hey,” Danny said, offended that Jeremy got that reaction and he got a big fat impassive nothing no matter how annoying he was.
“What’s Jeremy done?” Jazz sounded exhausted by the concept.
“Well… He uh.” Danny stared at the ceiling. He couldn't look at her directly. “Well. You know how he wants the good favor of the god of the underworld?”
“Yup.” Jazz hit the ‘p’ sound hard.
“He uh, hit the idea that uh. Maybe a Persephone of sorts was just the thing to suck up.”
He heard fabric rustle as Jazz sat up. “He did?”
Wow, she had one of the most fascinating ceilings in the world. Danny stared intently up at a splotch that looked vaguely malign. She ought to get that checked out by an expert before it possessed somebody. “Yeah, so he's been trying to vault people into the Ghost Zone as bridal sacrifices.”
“Ahuh.” Jazz sounded a little bit choked up. She wasn't laughing, so he couldn't complain.
“I had Dani get Vlad look into it-” because Dad or Mom would have been mortifying- “and apparently, he told her the odds of some hack wizard managing to send a living human to the ghost zone was laughable.”
He paused. He couldn't go on.
“And Vlad would know,” Jazz said leadingly.
Danny put a hand over his face. “Yeah, see, the thing is that I'm now very concerned that Vlad might not know.” His words came out muffled.
Jazz was so intent on him. He pretended even harder not to know she was leaning in towards him. “Does- does the ghost king have a bride, Danny?” She somehow managed in a professional tone.
He nodded miserably.
She promptly lost her shit laughing at his misfortune.
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Not Drunk Enough | Kim Hongjoong
-> Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader -> Request: No. This is a repost from my old account. -> Synopsis: Hongjoong remains relatively sober to help his girlfriend and Yunho with the others. -> Warnings: Drunkteez. Alcohol, drinking, being drunk. DRINK RESPONSIBLY. DO NOT DRINK IF YOUR UNDERAGE. drunkTEEZ.  -> Word Count: 377 -> Requests: Open.
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©️ 2024 woojoongstreasure - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead.
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Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you. 
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Y/N could see her boyfriend’s patience growing thinner and thinner as the night goes on. Between San being the light weight that he is and Wooyoung’s loudmouth causing an argument between him and Jongho, it was becoming obvious that the captain was regretting his decision to only have two drinks to remain relatively sober.    
Hongjoong promised Y/N and Yunho, who was remaining sober for the schedules he has the next day, that he would help them with the others if they got too drunk and chaotic. Drunk and chaotic they quickly became after a few drinks in them.    
Noticing San passed out on one of the couches, she thought it would be best if he’s moved to the spare bedroom that doubles as her home office.    
“I’m definitely not drunk enough for this,” she hears Hongjoong mutter under his breath as he stands up from his spot beside you. He steps between Jongho, Wooyoung and Mingi that were in a heated discussion he had no interest in, defusing the situation before moving over to San to help Yunho move him into the bedroom office.    
He's back a few minutes later after making sure San is okay and telling Yunho to grab a bottle of water and some pain meds to place on the bedside table.    
“Date night tomorrow night?” She asks moving back into his arms after he sits back down. “We can leave the kids at home.”    
“You think they’ll be okay for a few hours?” He jokes but agrees to her plan.   
“Their mother will be with them,” she chuckles looking towards Seonghwa playing paper, scissors, rock with Yeosang and giggling every time he wins. “It's been too long since we've had a proper date night without one or two of them joining us." 
Hongjoong chuckles, his arms tightening around her. "You're right. We've been so caught up with our work and taking care of everyone else that we've neglected us. I’ll let the guys know tomorrow, when they’re sober that they’re on their own for a few hours tomorrow night."  
As they watched his members, their friends, a sense of contentment washes over the both of them. Despite the chaos that comes with them, they are grateful for the family they’ve built with them.  
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TAGGING: @hollxe1 – @laylasbunbunny – @deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @yeonjunnie
Because I can only tag 10 blogs at a time, the rest of the tags will be placed in the comments.
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sillygoosealert · 2 days
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Can you please write something cute about Bi-Han and readers first date? Like i’d assume he’d go all out and want to be extra fancy with his extra ass .
He would thinks he loojs so cool in his little like low cut tank top showing off his arms SLUT, SLUT BEHAVIOR HES VEING A WHORE A NO GOOD WHORE
Do you like it?
Bi-Han fluff and um viewer discretion advised you give him a KISS at the end
Bi-Han has asked you to accompany him tonight for a meal at Madam Bo’s
When you accepted, he knew he had to show you how respectable he is
Some would say he radiates pure power, dominance, and testosterone
But you showed patience and kindness, and you were so much softer than him
You deserved better- that much was clear to anyone
But he could be that better, could be a good partner
So before the night, he asked subtle questions to make sure he left a good impression on you
What your favorite scent Is- so he could buy that in a cologne
What your favorite flower Is, so he could leave them infront of your door the following morning
These things just come naturally to him- knowing how to court you
Perhaps he is a true charmer deep down, a lover boy of sorts
Only after he had finished his duties he assigned himself the task of thinking of things to flaunt to you
A balanced life, work, train, then leave something at your doorstep
An action some would see as cowardly, but he just doesn’t have time to stick around..
But tonight was different, he had time. he had all the time in the world
You looked so pretty, much nicer than him
Well, he looked like a strong, respectable, and dominant man
But you looked so soft- happy
You smile at him, waving
It wasn't supposed to be anything fancy, but more casual
Well maybe he made it a little fancy
But that's only maybe
He guides you throughout the restaurant
A sweet gesture he didn't even think about, but you seem to be receptive
When you talk to him you aren’t even nervous, it’s like you enjoy it- or something preposterous like that
He even makes a few jokes, it's nice
Like you both are normal, causal people on a date
Maybe the title doesn't matter outside of the Artik, the need for respect and regard may not be as important either
The only thing that really means anything right now is you- and him too, but mainly you
And you're enjoying yourself
Enjoying yourself with him, he's making you enjoy you're self
He finds your laugh to be quite satisfying
Because he is making you laugh
It is calm and favorable, even with people around
You share a slice of cake with him
Before he didn't like cake, but right now it fastest much better than he ever remembered
Sweet, but nice
Comforting perhaps?
He doesn't know
But it went well, you let him walk you to your room
No one is outside their chambers- because it is past curfew
But you two are out
A kiss is shared outside your door, a quick small one
Flowers are left outside your door the next morning
Maybe another kiss will be shared- inside your room next time
He wonders if you liked it
🎀
Did you notice I made my own tag? Daisy writes 💕
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headkiss · 9 hours
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ooh ooh okay, maybe in the single thread universe where either reader or steve has a nightmare about losing the other from the canon-type violence and it's like comfort. feel free to ignore if you don't like it, thank u and love u 🫶
hi my love thank u so much for this req i missed writing these two <3 i hope you like it!!! steve’s the one with the nightmare in this one | 0.6k hurt/comfort and fluff (this takes place in the single thread universe!)
Although you and Steve only live across the hall from each other, you split your time between the two apartments, though you’re rarely separated from each other when you can help it.
Nights are often spent at his place, him kissing you goodbye before slipping out the window and swinging off to his nightly patrol, you staying awake with a book in your lap until he comes home no matter how much he insists you get some sleep.
You fall asleep easier when he’s beside you, anyways. Where you can feel him, safe and breathing.
Tonight’s a little different. Steve slipped through the window quietly when he got back—uninjured, this time—from patrol. For once, you’d fallen asleep while he was out, though you tried not to, if the open book still on your lap says anything.
He shut the window and locked it, pulling his mask off and smiling at the sight of you amongst his sheets, like you’ve belonged there all along. Steve bookmarked your page before setting your book onto the nightstand that’s now been claimed as yours, shutting off the small lamp that sits there, too.
He showered and changed quickly, eager to lay down beside you and gather you up into his arms, your warmth surrounding him. He falls asleep with the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.
It’s also a little different because a couple of hours later, you’re woken up by Steve’s shout of your name, his chest heaving against your back. Frowning, you turn over, finding his eyes still shut but his eyebrows scrunched.
Nightmares aren’t new to either of you, you’ve had enough of them since being followed that one night after work, nightmares where Steve isn’t there to save you this time. It still hurts to see him go through one, though.
Pushing yourself up, you run one hand through his hair, the other squeezing his shoulder. “Steve, wake up.”
After a couple more tries, his eyes open quickly, darting around before landing on your face, on the worry he must find written there. “Honey,” he breathes. “Are you okay?”
It’s classic Steve that the first thing he’d be worried about is you, when he’s the one who’s just had a nightmare. You trail your hand down his arm to tangle your fingers together. “Don’t worry about me. You were having a nightmare.”
His eyes squeeze shut, like he’s remembering it all over again. “You were hurt and I couldn’t- nothing was working. I was too late.”
“Hey,” you cup his jaw with your free hand, making sure his gaze is on yours. “Look at me. I’m not hurt. Not one bit, okay?”
He nods his hand tightening in yours, his other one reaching to tug you closer, your legs tangling together. “I’m sorry for waking you.”
You think back to the day you first met him, when he’d carried your moving boxes for you like it was nothing. You hadn’t realized then just how much weight he really felt, a weight you now hope to help lift, if only a little.
Steve was afraid then, of getting too close to you, if possible putting you in danger. He’s still afraid of the latter now, but there was something inevitable about you two, he thinks. It must be why his heartbeat calms more and more the longer he lays there with you, the longer he looks at you.
“You don’t have to be sorry.” You smile what you hope is something reassuring, trying to ease his mind, lighten things, “besides, I fell asleep on you earlier. It’s only fair.”
Steve’s not sure how he got so lucky with you, your patience, your understanding about everything. He can’t believe that you just happened to move in. It feels much more like fate than anything else to him.
“Thank you for being here, honey.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
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tswaney17 · 2 days
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I Do Bad Things with You - Part 48
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One part left and an epilogue to go!! 🎉 What is lifeeeee? The fact that this story is literally almost over is just insane to me. Thank you to everyone who kept up with this one. I know it's been a long, long ride. Your patience and kind words have meant the world to me. 💜
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Catch up here.
Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘
Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW
Word Count: 8,481
Elain’s consciousness tugged at the front of her mind, slowly trying to pull her from her slumber. Warmth radiated from the other person she shared her bed with, his cedar and mist scent a balm to her soul. As she slowly came to, she realized that Azriel was not the only one in their bed that morning, her son’s voice catching her attention even though her husband tried to keep him quiet.
“Not so close, buddy,” Az murmured, and she felt Kaden’s small body being pulled slightly away from her. “We have to be careful of Momma’s tummy.”
A little body shuffling jostled her but she kept her eyes firmly shut, simply enjoying the tender moment with her boys.
“Like this, Daddy?”
Her heart melted. The night before came perfectly clear in her memory—how Azriel’s face morphed into quiet joy from Kaden finally calling him daddy. She saw every emotion behind his eyes, every prayer being answered: that their son would finally view him as his father and not just a guardian.
“That’s perfect, bud,” he choked out in a hoarse whisper. It was obvious how much it meant to Azriel to hear that name coming from Kaden’s lips.
Elain knew that her husband was aware of her being awake; he always seemed to sense her presence even before she opened her eyes. He confirmed it when Kaden tried to whisper, “When is Momma going to wake up?”
Az’s answering chuckle was the first indicator, followed by “Soon, I’m sure.”
She took that as her queue, stretching out her aching body—pregnancy really was a bitch—yawning until she opened her eyes.
“Momma!” Kaden shouted in glee, throwing his arms around her shoulders.
Elain let out an “oomph,” laughing as Azriel chastised their rambunctious four-year-old.
“Easy, Kaden.” He scooped his son back into his arms, kissing him all over his face and making him burst out into a fit of giggles.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, smiling at the sweet display. “What time is it?”
Az settled their son between them, his bright eyes glancing at her. “Just before seven. The Moonbeam twins will be here at nine to collect you and Kaden to head to the baby store in Hewn City.”
Elain could see the change in her husband as he spoke. How he wanted them to go with them and that it made him nervous to stay behind while they were in another territory. She reached out, cupping his cheek in her palm, and let her thumb swoop over the apple of it. “We’ll be okay,” she whispered, hoping to reassure him.
He sighed heavily, twisting his head to kiss the inside of her hand. “I’ll be better once you’re both home and safe.”
“Momma, I’m hungry!” Kaden announced, breaking the spell that had woven over them.
 Azriel rose from the bed, turning to face them. “I’ll make breakfast. What do you guys want?”
“Pancakes!” they said in unison.
Her husband huffed a laugh, eyes rolling because that’s what Elain always wanted for breakfast. “Why do I bother asking?” And then he swooped down to toss their giggling boy onto his shoulder. “Alright, free-loader… you’re going to help me make pancakes this morning,” he called out as he threw a still-giggling Kaden over a shoulder and muscled his way out of their bedroom.
“Bye momma!” their little boy called waving at her enthusiastically.
She wiggled her fingers at him, giving herself another moment to lounge in bed. One of the twins stretched out, their little foot pressing against the inside of her stomach hard enough to see the outline of it. She could even make out their little toes. Elain let out a breath, running her hand over her belly to soothe the child. “Make yourself comfortable, little one,” she teased in a soft breath. 
Shuffling herself off the bed, she waddled into the large bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.
Forty-five minutes later, she padded her way downstairs to the kitchen in a pair of leggings, one of Azriel’s oversized sweatshirts—because it was the only thing warm enough that fit her at the moment—and sneakers. She found her boys at the stove, Kaden pouring the last remnants of the batter onto a hot skillet while Azriel flipped pancakes to perfection.
Elain took out her phone and snapped a photo of the two of them, intending on getting it printed and framed for the house. She glanced down at the finished pancakes, noticing the wonky shape from her boy’s pouring skills. Her lips turned up into a smile as she made her way to the fridge to grab the carton of orange juice for herself and milk for Kaden.
Azriel caught her movement, eyes quickly looking in her direction before returning to the stove. And then his whole head snapped toward her, taking in every inch of her and what she was wearing.
Truth be told, Elain knew what wearing Az’s clothes did to him. He had always had this masculine pride whenever she paraded around in his t-shirts and such. But she typically wore them around the house, unless he happened to drape something on her while they were out. His eyes darkened, and he stepped away from the stove to prowl over to her.
The look he shot her had a pleasurable chill running down her spine. How Elain could be seven months pregnant with fucking twins and still be turned on by this man was beyond her. But he took advantage of her raging hormones when they could.
A scarred hand reached out to run down the length of her sleeve. “You’re wearing this out?” he asked, voice low and sensual.
She felt herself twinge between her thighs. “It’s big and comfy,” she told him. “Is it all right if I wear it?” Elain knew the answer before he even voiced it.
A growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “Fuck yeah, you can wear it. Look at my wife, knocked up and wearing my clothes. Do you know the kind of message that sends to people?”
She huffed a laugh. “That you’re territorial and a caveman.”
Azriel claimed her lips in a heated kiss, stepping into her space until her rounded belly was pressed against his abdomen. It was obvious he wanted to finish what they started last night, the way his tongue slipped into her mouth and how his palms cradled her body indicated it.
Frankly, she did too. Elain didn’t think Az could be more attentive to her needs, but while pregnant, he managed to kick up his wicked talents until she passed out from coming so many times when they got hot and heavy.
His mouth moved dominantly over hers, prying her lips apart so he could stroke his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss.
It took a splat sound, followed by an “Oopsie,” from their son for them to break apart.
Azriel whirled around while she stepped to peer around his shoulder at their son holding the spatula in his tiny fist, a guilty look spreading across his face in the form of a blush.
Her eyes glanced down at the floor, finding a half-cooked pancake staining the wood.
“Kaden,” Az started, voice alight with humor. “Watcha doing there, bud?”
Those tanned cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink. “I was trying to flip, Daddy!” he says exasperated.
Her husband let out a chuckle, moving to help their son climb off the stool he was standing on. “Well, it looks like we might need to practice that next time. Go sit down at the table, Kaden.”
Azriel cleaned up the mess in their kitchen while she finished setting out dishes for breakfast.
Elain loved mornings like this. The three of them—soon to be five—sitting around eating their breakfast together. She wanted to make this a weekend ritual, especially when the kids were young. Weekdays were difficult to get all of them around the table and she and Az took turns preparing breakfast for Kaden before he went to school and they to work. Actually, Azriel typically took care of it most mornings now since she was running slower, but this, this sweet family time…Elain wanted nothing more than to have this with her husband and children.
The doorbell ringing pulled her from her reverie, Azriel announced he’d get it, then dropped a kiss on the top of her and Kaden’s heads.
She heard the tale-tell sounds of the Moonbeam twins entering their foyer.
“Good morning, Elain,” Fenrys bellowed, dropping a kiss to her cheek followed by his brother more politely. Both men ruffled Kaden’s hair and took a spot around their breakfast nook.
“Morning, boys. Thanks again for taking Kaden and me to Hewn today.”
Connall flashed a brilliant smile. “It’s always a pleasure, Elain.”
She gestured to the table still full of food. “Please help yourself to breakfast. Kaden helped make the pancakes this morning.”
Fenrys twisted to the little boy. “Kaden, you made the pancakes?”
Her son beamed at the question. “I did, Uncle Fen!”
He grabbed one of the oddly shaped flapjacks and bit into it, groaning. “Well, that’s the best pancake I’ve ever had, isn’t Con?”
Connall took one as well. “I think we’ve got a little chef on our hands,” he said, earning a little blush from Kaden.
She grinned at the conversation, loving how her boy had become more comfortable with their security team over time. One of the babies sent a swift kick to her lower stomach causing her to wince. The conversation stalled as all three men at the table took notice.
Az’s large, scarred hand slid across her belly. “Are they kicking?” he asked with a sweet, hopeful look in his amber eyes.
She nodded, a grin playing on her lips. “They’ve been making their presence known this morning,” she murmured, looking down at her pregnant stomach.
Fenrys rounded the table, looking at where the baby was moving beneath her skin. “May I?” he questioned.
Elain took his hand and placed it right where one of the twins sent two jabs.
The golden twin’s smile took up his entire face. “That’s a strong one you got there.” Both Fenrys and Connall had grown even closer to her since she got pregnant. They often asked to feel the babies kicking if they happened to be active whenever they were around. She was surprised that Azriel showed no displeasure or territorialism when they did. He’d been particularly protective of her, especially around others, and didn’t like when others touched her without asking first.
Rhys found out the hard way a few weeks back, having had his hand snatched off her by the wrist in Azriel’s brutal grip. “Ask first,” he growled at his brother, a lethal look in his eyes.
She had been a bit blind-sighted by the interaction, as was the rest of their family, but not a single one of them touched her again without getting her explicit permission first.
Luckily, both the Moonbeam brothers always asked and she never had an issue with them. 
The commotion around her fluttering belly grew the attention of Kaden who pushed his way around Fenrys’s legs. “Momma, can I touch your tummy too?” His little lip quiver had her reaching for him and tugging him closer.
“Of course you can, sweetheart.” Kaden was the only other person freely allowed to touch her stomach, Azriel often encouraging him to feel them or listen to her stomach so he could connect with his siblings early on. She gripped his small hand and placed it right where one of the babies had been kicking. Up until that point, Kaden had missed every time they kicked; the twins already giving their older brother a hard time.
His brow furrowed in concentration. “I don’t feel anything,” he said, deflating.
Her lips quirked up. “Give it a second.” And as she predicted, a hard kick was sent straight to his palm.
He whipped his hand back, shock plastering his face. “Why are they kicking you, Momma?”
She felt the attention of her husband and security detail on them, listening to his curious mind. “They’re not trying to kick me, baby. They’re just trying to get comfortable with the little room they have in Momma’s tummy.”
His green and gold eyes dragged from her stomach to her face. “Can’t they come out here?” He threw his arms wide. “There’s lots of room!”
The adults chuckled and she reached out to lightly tuck a curl behind his ear. “They’re not ready to come out yet. But they’ll be here before you know it.” Elain tapped his button nose with the pad of her finger.
His face scrunched up adorably. “Why are they in your tummy, Momma?” he asked, head cocked to the side as he studied her moving stomach.
She leaned back in her seat. “Babies need time to grow big and strong. Mommas help them by keeping them safe in their tummies for a while until they’re all ready to come out and join us.”
He seemed to think about that for a minute, then asked, “How’d they get in there?”
Azriel choked on his coffee.
Silence descended upon the kitchen. She glanced at her security team across the table, both of them wearing shit-eating grins, and then her husband who looked conflicted in answering at all. Fucking traitors. “Well, Daddy put them in me so I can grow them.”
There, that was safe, right? Truthful but not explicit.
But of course, their curious son had too many questions and wondered about too many things. “How?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older, son,” Azriel finally swept in with the saving remark.
Seemingly appeased with that answer, Kaden leaned forward and lightly patted her stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you,” he whispered, kissing her roundness like he’d seen his father do so many times.
There was a collective aww from the group before her husband rose from behind her. “Come on, Kaden. Let’s get you ready so you and Momma can go with Uncle Fen and Uncle Con into the city.” He leaned down, whispering in her ear, “Nice save, Mom.”
She shot him a menacing glare as they strolled for the stairs.
Fenrys poured himself a glass of orange juice, snickering behind the cup. “Well, that was fun.”
Elain turned her glare on him. “Oh, yeah. So much fun for me. Thanks for the help, guys.”
“One,” Connall, started, flicking a finger up, “he’s not our kid. And two,” his middle finger joined the first, “I really wanted to hear the sexual education course from an actual doctor.” He took a bite of his pancake, smirking.
She groaned. “It’s far too early for the sex talk.” Elain threw back her orange juice like it was a shot of tequila. “Azriel can have the talk with the boys. I’ll give it to our daughter.”
“Unnecessary because our daughter is never having sex,” Az announced, striding back into the kitchen.
“Is that so?” she questioned, leaning back in her seat.
He nodded affirmatively. “I’m officially joining Cassian on the ‘our daughter is never dating’ pact.”
Elain rolled her eyes so far back into her head, she swore they nearly stuck. “You do realize you can’t physically stop her from having sex, right?”
A thick brow rose. “I’ll scare off anyone who so much as looks in her direction.” He said it so casually, she was starting to get concerned he was serious.
“What if he’s just like you?”
He let out a harsh laugh. “Then he’s definitely dead.”
Elain glanced at the Moonbeam twins for help, but they were dutifully ignoring her pleading looks. Yup, fucking traitors. She pushed herself from her seat. “Azriel, we cannot hold our daughter to a different standard than our son’s. That’s not fair and you know it.”
His eyes flicked back and forth between hers. “Fair enough.”
“Good.”
“None of them are allowed to date,” he announced like it was the most obvious answer.
“Azriel!” she hissed, swatting his shoulder. “You overbearing, protective man. Stop this.”
He tugged her in his arms, a grin fighting its way onto his lips. “I can’t help it, El. They’re my babies.”
She reached up to cup his stubbled cheeks in her palms. “They’re mine too. But they’re going to need to spread their wings eventually. We can’t protect them from everything and we can’t stop them from living their lives.”
“I know, I know.” He sighed heavily. “A man can dream, can’t he? That they’ll stay little and dependent on us forever?”
Elain laughed softly. “You’re a perfect father, my love.” She pressed her lips to his, sighing into his mouth when he deepened it.
It took a very subtle, but very prominent, throat-clearing to pull them apart. They turned to look at the twins, both wearing mischievous grins.
“Sorry, we weren’t sure if you wanted to give us a front-row seat to the live-action, baby-making ritual,” Fenrys tossed out.
“Jesus Christ, Fen,” Elain muttered while her husband shot him a death glare. “Where’s Kaden?” she asked him instead, regaining his attention.
“I left him to brush his teeth and get dressed. He said he could do it on his own.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you pull clothes out for him?” Kaden was in his stage of throwing on whatever he found first, which meant his outfits of choice would sometimes consist of long pants, a tank top, one rain boot, one flip flop, and the occasional beanie. And somehow, everything was always a different color.
A few weeks back, Kaden had decided to dress for school and ended up in a full meltdown when she said he couldn’t wear his pajama pants with one slipper and a light-up sneaker. She ended up being late for work and Azriel had to leave an early morning meeting from his home office to come help handle the situation when she grew lightheaded enough from the stress.
“His entire outfit is lying on his bed and I told him to put it on after he finished his teeth.” Az planted a kiss on her cheek.
“If he comes down in a T-rex costume, you’ll be dealing with it on your own.”
A brow raised. “Does he have a T-rex costume?”
She shrugged, sighing. “I don’t even know.” They really did spoil their children.
Fenrys and Connall snickered at the exchange. “Do you want us to take the SUV?” the latter asked, redirecting the conversation to her husband.
Azriel guided her back to her chair and helped her sit. “Yes, anytime they leave the city they must be in the SUV.”
Elain nearly rolled her eyes. A few weeks before they bought the house, she and Az had agreed to get a new car since their current one wouldn’t be able to handle the size of their growing family. Elain left it up to her husband, not caring about what he got, but he had some specific requests. It had to have high safety reviews, fit their whole family, and be luxurious. Frankly, she only cared about the former two, but he insisted they should always ride in comfort.
What she did not expect was for him to upgrade every window to bullet-proof glass. The damn thing was safer than what a president or the royal family would be escorted in.
“Just a precaution,” he had told her. “More like overly excessive,” she shot back.
She just huffed out a breath, finishing her juice. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” she asked her husband, eyeing his casual attire.
He flicked her nose, making her hiss. “Meeting’s at ten. I’ll change when you guys head out.” Grabbing her dishes, he padded to the sink to wash them, always taking care of her.
Twenty minutes later, they were loading into the car, Az getting Kaden into his booster seat while she slid into the back. He kissed his son’s cheek, eyes finding hers. “Be safe. Call me if you have any problems.”
Elain offered him a reassuring smile. “We’ll be fine. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” He leaned farther in, stealing a quick kiss from her lips, then shut the door.
She watched him speak with the Moonbeam brothers outside of the vehicle, likely giving them the protection order for her and their son. After a couple of minutes and a few nods, they took their respective seats in the front.
Fenrys flashed a grin from the driver’s side. “Ready, fam?”
About an hour later, they pulled into a parking spot outside the large baby store Elain had been dying to get into. She tried to keep most of her purchases to local businesses in Velaris, but there were just some things she couldn’t get there and had to resort to one of the chain stores.
The minute the car was in park, the men jumped out, opening their doors. Connall unclipped Kaden from his booster seat and helped him out, taking his hand until they met on the other side of the car and she could take over.
Their focus was the double-seated stroller, but she did want to look at the pack-n-play for when the babies started to really move around. They still had their co-ed baby shower the following month at Feyre and Rhys’s for any last-minute items.
They slowly made their way into the massive store, Connall disappearing to grab a cart. As they walked, they passed the toy section, and Elain saw how Kaden’s eyes lit up like it was Solstice morning.
“Momma, can I go look at the toys, please?”
She glanced at the golden twin, then back at her son. “Sure, sweetheart. Why don’t you and Uncle Fen go pick out something small for your brother and sister?”
The little boy squealed, taking Fenrys’s large hand in his and pulling him away.
“We’ll be in the stroller area when you’re finished.”
She and Connall continued their perusal through the isles until she found what she was looking for—of course, the prams were at the back of the store. Elain already knew which one she wanted; the stroller was top-of-the-line, grew with the babies, and had the best reviews on the market.
But when they stopped in front of the shelves, she realized their mistake. “I think we’re going to need a flatbed. These won’t fit in the cart.”
Connall stepped up to her side. “Yup, I’m realizing that right now. Damn. Sorry, Elain. Let me go grab the other cart. You okay here?”
Elain huffed a laugh. “Well, I can tell you I’m not walking back to the front of the store and back, so I think I’ll survive the few minutes of your absence,” she teased, flashing him a cheeky grin.
He rolled his eyes at her, a smile toying on his lips. “You’re so sassy pregnant.”
“You’ll do well to remember that.”
Connall chuckled, heading back to the front of the store. He left the cart at her request, just in case she needed it.
She grabbed one of the large boxes from the lower shelves and yanked. The box barely budged. “Oh, come on,” she muttered, trying again.
“Can I help you with that?” a male voice asked, coming up behind her.
Elain whirled, taking an involuntary step back at his proximity,
His lips curled up in the corner. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Her eyes ran over the length of him. He was an attractive man. Older than her, likely close to forty if she had to guess. He was tall, well over six foot with golden brown skin and dark hair. He looked familiar in a way that tickled the back of her mind but couldn’t quite place.
He nodded at the stroller box. “Did you want me to grab that for you?” he asked again.
“Oh. Yes, that’d be great.”
The man stepped around her, reaching for the handle of the box and slid it out for her to inspect, the suit jacket he wore stretching over the defined muscles of his shoulders and back. “Here you go.”
She ran a hand over the box, double-checking the name and product code. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he said, leaning a hip against the shelves and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “How far along are you?”
Elain tucked her hair behind her ear, looking back up at him. Again, the prickling sensation rubbed at her mind, almost like in warning. “Right around seven months,” she said. It wasn’t too personal to admit to a stranger. Carrying twins, Elain looked ready to pop anyway. “Is your wife pregnant? Girlfriend?” she asked, redirecting the attention from herself onto him.
His lips turned up again. “Sister-in-law.” He let his eyes rove over her form, sending a chilling sensation running down her spine. “I’ll admit it’s been a while since I bought anything from a baby store…any suggestions?”
Her brow furrowed. It seemed odd he’d come into the store without having any inkling of what to get. “What is she having?”
Again, a smile touched his lips, but Elain thought it looked a little more sinister than genuine.
“Twins,” he announced carefully.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her heart began racing in her chest as she started to connect the dots of who this man was. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any suggestions for you.”
He huffed a rough laugh. “No?” His thumb rubbed his lower lip in contemplation. “I would’ve figured you could’ve given me a good idea of what to give her and her husband.”
Elain took a very subtle step away, putting the stroller box between them, but of course, those fucking hazel eyes zeroed in on the movement, his mouth pulling up. “Nope,” she said, popping the p sound. “Can’t help you.”
The man stuffed his hands into his pocket, a casual look of grace and sophistication, but he also radiated a dark and dangerous vibe. A lethal combination…just like her husband. “What was your name again?” he asked casually, head cocking to the side in a predatory-type of way.
“I didn’t give it,” she snapped back. Her red alert sensors were going off in her mind, and here she was, all alone with her son somewhere else in the fucking store. But Elain didn’t dare take her eyes off the man who was looking at her too closely.
He chuckled, the sound sending nerves flooding her stomach. “Smart girl. You’ll have to tell Azriel that Frankie says hello. It’s been a very long time since we last saw each other.”
And there it was. The truth of who had somehow managed to track her down in a baby store in Hewn City. What her gut had been screaming at her since he said he was buying something for his pregnant sister-in-law. She knew she recognized him, he bore some similar markers of her husband and Nicklaus too. The same jawline, the same nose. But where Azriel’s hazel eyes had flecks of emerald, Francisco’s were much lighter, giving him an almost feline look.
Elain took another step back, one he countered with a casual step in her direction. “You shouldn’t be here,” she stated, trying to keep her voice calm and not betray her terror. Because this man, this man was utterly lethal. He wouldn’t hesitate to grab her or her son.
“Shouldn’t I be?” he asked cooly. Too cooly which only made her more anxious. Yup, there went her blood pressure. “After Nicklaus met you, I was quite curious myself about the woman who captured my brother’s black heart.”
“You know nothing about his heart,” she snarled. Her voice turned venomous, something he seemed pleased about.
He chuckled again. “I know he keeps very little in it. You.” Frankie flicked off an invisible piece of lint from the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Your adorable little boy, Kaden.”
Elain froze, true terror turning the blood in her veins to ice. “Keep his name out of your mouth.” She had to find Fenrys and her son. She had to get out of this goddamn store. Elain just prayed Fenrys was vigilant in Kaden’s protection, but she knew he would be.
“I’m sure you already know, but in case you don’t, Lorenzo won’t be a problem for you anymore.”
She blinked, the words rattling around in her skull. Lorenzo showed up dead just before Kaden’s adoption approval. “What did you do?” He’d been a part of the Illyrian Mob. It made no sense to kill one of their own.
He shrugged. “I took care of a problem.” His eyes seemed to look through her and directly down into her soul, the filth of his sins leaked from him like blood upon the tile floor, staining her from the inside out. She didn’t like that one bit. “Consider it my present to you and my brother on the adoption of that sweet boy.”
“We didn’t ask for that.”
Again, he raised his shoulders in indifference. “Azriel is my brother—”
“You are not his brother,” she hissed.
That seemed to irritate him, a crack in his calm demeanor for the deadly male to peek out from beneath the mask. “We are of flesh and blood.”
It may have been the most reckless thing she ever did, but Elain squared her shoulders, looked him dead in the eye, and said, “Blood does not make you brothers. Where was this brotherly bond when you held him down as a child while Alec mutilated his hands? While you allowed him to be tortured and burned.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Azriel has two males he calls brothers, but neither of them is by blood.” Where the fuck was Connall?
He crossed his arms. “And here I thought we were making headway, Elain. Perhaps when my gift for the twins arrives, you’ll reconsider.”
“We don’t want anything from you,” she snarled, face going warm in fury.
“They’re going to want to know their Uncle Frankie,” he murmured, quickly taking too many steps forward and reaching out as if to touch her rounded stomach. But a tanned hand shot out and gripped his wrist.
“Do not touch her,” Connall growled, fingers tightening.
A dangerous glint flashed in Frankie’s eyes. “Remove your hand from my presence before I put a bullet in your head.”
Elain thought she was going to pass out. Her chest ached from the racing of her heart. Blood rushed in her ears drowning out everything around her. And then she heard him.
“Momma?”
She chanced a glance as Kaden and Fenrys came around the corner of the aisle, toy in hand. Elain shook her head at Fen, a silent order to keep her son back. She didn’t know what she would do if Frankie tried to grab her boy.
Reading her request, and the fear in her eyes, Fenrys snatched Kaden into his arms when her son tried to get to her, toy clattering to the floor.
“Momma!” he cried, sensing the seriousness of the situation but not understanding what was going on.
Knowing her son was as safe as he could be, Elain returned her attention to Frankie, who was eying the little boy trying to push his way out of his protector’s fierce grip.
Her hackles rose and she took a deliberate step in front of him, forcing his gaze to return to hers. “Connall, let him go.” It was an order, one the dark-haired twin obeyed immediately. She kept her eyes on Frankie; let the frost she felt in her blood come out in her words. “We are not interested in whatever it is you want. If you come for my family, I will kill you myself without even blinking.” His eyes widened imperceptibly, but she didn’t let him get a word in edgewise. “Let’s go.”
Connall moved to cover her back, ready to take a fucking bullet for her and her babies.
Kaden was still crying in Fenrys’s arms and though she knew he was too heavy for her to carry, she took him anyway, propping her as best as she could on her hip while the latter took his place close to her side and protecting her son’s back. Kaden sobbed into her neck, his arms tightening around her neck. “You’re okay, sweetie,” she murmured kissing the side of his head and running a hand up and down his back.
“Are you two packing?”
“Always,” Connall answered gruffly, clearly pissed off at the situation.
She nodded. “Good. That was the head of the Illyrian Mob and I can guarantee there are more in here. Get Azriel on the phone, now.”
Fenrys was already pulling the device from his pocket while Connall stepped up close enough to tell her, “I’m so fucking sorry, Elain. I should’ve had Fenrys come back to you. I should’ve—”
“Connall,” she said, interrupting his apologies. “This wasn’t a coincidence. He sought me out and he would’ve shown up whether you two were there or not,” she told him earnestly. They didn’t have time to dwell on the what haves. “Let’s just get out of here.”
He swore under his breath, still pissed with himself.
“Yes sir, they are both with us. We’re heading back out to the car,” Fenrys said into his phone. He looked at her. “She’s holding Kaden right now. I’ll hand her the phone once we’re securely in the car.”
Something prickled at her skin as they reached the parking lot, eyes darting around the asphalt. That’s when she saw them. One man by the entrance, another near one of the cart returns; two were next to identical-looking SUVs. Everywhere she looked, she saw a suit-clad man just standing there. Waiting… And every single pair of eyes were on them. On her and the distressed child she was carrying.  
Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. “We are being watched,” she announced to her security team.
Both of the men reached for their weapons as Fenrys relayed the information to her husband.
Elain threaded her fingers through Kaden’s thick locks, holding his head tucked into her neck so he couldn’t see what was happening.
Not a single man moved toward them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to try anything. The Moonbeam twins were deadly accurate, but it didn’t matter though. They were outnumbered. She had already counted ten of Frankie’s associates, and those were the only ones she could see.
Something flashed in the corner of her eye. She twisted her head to catch a bike flying toward them, coming to a screeching halt right in front of them.
Fenrys and Connall had their guns drawn as the person took off their helmet, platinum white hair swishing as she shook it out. Golden eyes turned on her. “Mrs. Archeron-Knight?” she asked.
Elain blinked, but Fenrys snarled out, “Who the fuck are you?”
She flashed a deadly smile. “My name is Manon Blackbeak. Your husband,” she nodded at Elain, “has asked me and my team to escort your SUV back to Velaris.”
A roaring sound echoed in the distance and then there were twelve other bikes, paired up as they flew across the parking lot to stop behind Manon.
“I—” she stuttered, not knowing what to say. “Who are you?”
“We’re called the Thirteen. He will explain what we do once we get you home.”
Elain was about to demand more of an explanation, but then she saw the men retreating. Every single one of them. Her eyes slid back to the woman in front of her, then down the team she had with her, all women if the body shapes were anything to go by. But then a phone was being placed against her ear and her husband’s voice was speaking.
“Elain.” He sounded terrified. “Love, Manon and her team are on my payroll. You can trust them to get you and Kaden home safely. Please get into the car.”
Just hearing his voice sent relief washing over her. Because if he trusted this woman and her team to keep them safe, then she knew she could too. “Let’s go,” she commanded, moving forward. Only once they were all inside the vehicle and back on the highway did she speak to her husband, reassuring him they were okay and giving him a lowdown on what happened.
He was in the garage when they pulled in, Manon and her team circling the driveway once and then departing with a salute to Azriel and her.
She was crushed in his arms, his mouth kissing her fiercely. “Are you guys all right?” he breathed, holding her at arm’s length and inspecting every inch of her.
Connall pulled Kaden from his booster seat, the little boy running around the car and slamming into his father’s legs.
Azriel wasted no time in lifting him onto his hip, kissing his temple before pulling her back into his embrace.
“We’re okay. Startled and anxious, but otherwise fine,” she reassured him.
He pulled them into the house, the twins slipping in behind them on silent feet. Az set them in the living room, tugging her down beside him while Kaden clung to his strong shoulders.
“How’d you get a team there so fast?” she asked, still trying to figure it out. Fenrys approached from the kitchen, handing her a cup of hot, peppermint tea. She smiled up at him in thanks.
“They were in Hewn for another job. I sent Manon an SOS text that took priority over what they were doing.
She raised a brow. “What other job?”
Azriel took her hand and placed a kiss across her knuckles. “Handling the remaining members of Hybern’s gang. I’ve had them hunting down the last of them since that night in the warehouse. There were rumors they wanted to seek revenge for the killing of their leader.”
The words were bloody and brutal, but she didn’t flinch. Not when those men held her captive in a warehouse, stabbed her thigh leaving a permanent scar on her pale flesh. No, she understood why her husband continued his pursuit of those animals.
She squeezed his hand in the reassurance that she understood why he was doing what he was, that she was okay with it, and that she agreed with his methods. His grip tightened in response.
They spent the following hour going over the next steps in how to handle the situation. Thoroughly exhausted from the ordeal, Kaden had fallen asleep on her husband’s shoulder and was now lying across one of the plush chairs with a blanket. The twins departed not long after Kaden fell asleep, leaving them to figure things out.
“I know you want to keep us safe, Az, believe me, I get it, but we need to figure out a compromise with them. I don’t want our children growing up always looking over their shoulders, just waiting to be attacked or kidnapped.”
He was hunched over, elbow braced on his knees. “There is no compromise with them. Frankie and Nicklaus are utterly ruthless.”
She gripped his bicep. “Everyone has a compromise. We just need to know—” Elain froze, the words falling from her lips.
Az swiveled his head to look at her, sitting up straight at whatever was showing on her face. “What is it, Elain?”
Brown eyes blinked, going back to the conversation she had with the eldest brother. Something he said was starting to tingle that sixth sense of hers. “He has a kid,” she breathed.
Brows furrowed. “Frankie?” Azriel asked, clearly confused. “No, he doesn’t. I would know if he had a kid. There’s not even a whisper of him having an heir.”
She shook her head. “Even if the child was over ten years old? You weren’t involved in their doing when we graduated high school, Az. And even the first few years after. What if he had a kid before then?”
He was looking at her now, eyes flicking between hers as he contemplated her words. “What did he say to make you think he has a kid?”
“He was trying to hint at what to get us,” her husband growled at that and she squeezed his arm again to stop him from interrupting. “But he said it had been a while since he bought anything from a baby store. I can’t see him buying baby things for somebody else, but I can see him doing it for his flesh and blood.”
Az was out of his seat and pacing the length of the living room. “That has to be it. He’s got a kid.” He stopped and turned to look at her. “If they were born when my father was alive, Frankie would’ve done anything to prevent him from finding out. He’d never let the bastard get close enough to hurt something so precious to him.” A colorful curse passed from between his parted lips. “I need to call Ruhn. If there’s a child, he has to be sending money to them and their mother. There’s no way he’d just abandon them, not if he took caution to hide them.”
“Azriel,” she said, rising from her spot on the couch. “If he does have a kid, what are you going to do with the knowledge?”
He met her gaze, and read the underlying question she didn’t need to say out loud. “I’m going to offer him a deal.”
~~~~~
Azriel rode up the elevator to the top floor of the building where the Illyrian Mob gathered to conduct their business. It wasn’t as large or fancy as his empire, but they also didn’t make the money that he did. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug about that.
In the metal box with him were four armed guards. He was stripped of his weapons upon entry and patted down indecently enough that he told the man to at least buy him dinner first. The comment, it seemed, wasn’t appreciated.
Nobody else was with him. He hated thinking about how hard Elain cried last night when he told her that he was entering the metaphorical lion’s den defenseless. Azriel knew that a lot of Elain’s emotions were hormone-based, which was why she couldn’t see his reasoning behind the need to go alone.
“Take the twins. Take Ruhn for fuck’s sake, Az! Just please don’t go in there alone.” Tears ran down her cheeks.
He stooped down to kneel in front of her. “Love, I have to go alone. If anyone else comes with me, they’ll deem it a threat. You know it has to be this way.” He reached up to wipe the tears away with his thumbs.
“I need you, Azriel,” she whispered, terrified. “Kaden needs you. Our babies need you. Please don’t go alone.”
There was nothing he could do but hold her as he whispered, “I’m sorry, Elain.”
It was the only time he’d ever disappoint his wife. Because here he was, weaponless and alone entering the office of the two men he hated most in the world. One of the guards knocked on the large doors, waiting for the snarled, “Enter.”
Like he was the motherfucking king, the guards gave him a double-door entrance, catching both of his brothers off guard.
Surprise, motherfuckers, he wanted to say, instead, settling on a lazy grin.
Nick reacted first, drawing his gun.
But Azriel threw up both of his hands in surrender. “Relax, Nicklaus. I am unarmed. Your guards downstairs made sure of it.” He dropped his arms when his brother lowered his gun slightly. “Do they always manhandle your visitors or am I just special because they know I got the impressive size of the family?” He was asking for trouble, but after getting his cock cupped by the fucker and still hearing his wife’s desperate pleas in his head, he was in a mood.
They ignored the quip. Damn.
Frankie leaned back in his seat. “Well, this is a surprise.”
Az cocked a brow. “Is it, brother? After you went after my wife and child?” He couldn’t stop the iciness of his tone, still raging over what happened a few weeks before. It had taken some time to track down what he needed to have this conversation and since then, he’d been on fucking edge.
“Did I actually go after them?”
He didn’t dare let his mask waiver. “Seeking her out at a baby store, sending an assault-sized team there, seems like an attempt to go after my pregnant wife and son.” He moved to take a seat across the desk from them, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sat. “But I am willing to let that go.”
That had him frowning, the other looking equally as puzzled. “All right, I’ll bite,” Frankie said at last. “Why would you let that go?”
Azriel slipped his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, unlocking it and bringing up the image of Frankie’s best-kept secret. “Because of her.”
Silence wrapped around them like a shadow of discomfort as he waited for the other shoe to drop.
Frankie shot out of his chair, gun raised and poised to fire. “What the fuck is this, Azriel? Have you come to threaten me on my own turf? Because I swear to God I will fucking end you here and leave your wife to raise those spawn by herself.”
He let the threat roll right off his back, already expecting that reaction, which confirmed what he knew to be true. “Relax, Frankie. Nobody’s threatening anybody.” Az swiveled his phone to look at the girl on the screen and then began reciting the information he had gained about the girl. “Anya Velasco, sixteen; daughter of Delilah Velasco and,” he paused, glancing up at his fuming brother, “Francisco Matteo. Nice try in the change of the last name. Even on the birth certificate too. As if you could wipe your tainted image from her record” His eyes flitted back to the screen. “She’s pretty. Looks just like her mother, thank fuck, but I can see you there too. Her cheek structure and coloring. That’s all Illyrian.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you here,” Frankie snarled, finger never wavering from the trigger.
Az sighed, like this was the most inconvenient part of his day, tapping on the video call for a number labeled as “Rico’s Pizza.” It was Ruhn’s number, answering the call so that it showed Anya walking between classes at school. “You did a pretty thorough job in trying to hide her, Frankie, I’ll give you that. It took a lot of digging into your financials, but something stuck out to me. A random off-shore account that has been linked to your empire making very large donations and monthly payments to a private school housed deep in the northern mountains.” He grinned; letting a little bit of that darkness out with it. “Well, I for one, thought that seemed suspicious.
“Here’s what I think happened. You got the girl pregnant in high school. Wanting to protect her from father’s wrath, you hid her, I’m assuming with help…” he eyed Nick briefly, but he would’ve been fifteen at the time. “Alec if I had to take a guess. He was father’s right hand and you his. You could trust him. So, you paid off the girl and sent her up north to some remote area, paying her handsomely for her troubles and keeping her hidden for the last sixteen years. How am I doing so far?”
Frankie’s tanned face was flushed red in fury.
Checkmate brother.
“Choose your words wisely, brother,” Nick snapped, gun held tight in his grip. “They may be your last.”
He raised a brow. “Would be a shame if that happened,” Az muttered, clicking the end button on his video call. “Because if I don’t give the all clear to my associate in the next ten minutes, he’s to take both Anya and Delilah and run. And believe me, his resourcefulness means you will never see them again.”
“I thought you said you weren’t threatening,” Frankie demanded.
“I’m not. I said take, not kill.”
The brothers shared a look. “Why are you here?” Nicklaus finally asked.
His mouth curled up in the corner. “I’m here to make a deal. But first, you two need to lower the fucking guns before I get pissed off.”
It took them a few heartbeats, but finally, Frankie lowered his gun, setting it on the table so it still pointed at him. Nicklaus followed not a second after. “What’s your deal?” the former questioned.
Azriel reclined in his seat, fingers steepling together. “No harm will ever come to Anya and Delilah. Not by me or anyone on my crew. And they would have the full protection of the Velaris Mob. Between the two of us, they’d be untouchable.”
Frankie considered this. “And in exchange?”
“You provide the same promise and protection for my wife and children.” Az didn’t expect an agreement immediately, so he tossed out there, “If I found them, that means somebody else could as well. I know you like to keep your cards close to your chest, Frankie, but I’m sitting here with a royal flush and you know it.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth. “If somebody threatened them—”
“Then you would have my full support to wage war against whoever did so. Just as I would have yours if the roles were reversed.” And he meant it. Azriel had no desire to see harm come to that child, and he’d never allow Ruhn to hurt her or her mother just to get Frankie to agree to this. They would live in hiding, but they would be well cared for. And anyone who tried otherwise would face his wrath.
His brother looked at Nicklaus and sighed. “All right, Azriel. You have yourself a deal.” He reached across the desk, taking his hand in a tight shake.
As he rode down in the elevator, collecting his weapons and making his way to his car, Az sent Ruhn the all-clear signal. He called Elain on the way home, letting her know he was safe. She sobbed into the receiver, her overwhelming relief that he was returning to her. He soothed her as best as he could, but during that call, Azriel saw an image of his life in the future. He and Elain stood watching their little ones running around the backyard of their home, happy and laughing and full of so much life and love that his chest physically began to ache.
Because for the first time in a very long time, the dream Azriel pictured for himself was finally coming true.
~~~~~
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blurredcolour · 3 days
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how do you think John Brady would act in a relationship with someone who is a sexual assault survivor? Headcanons or impressions of how that relationship would work? If you���re not comfortable with this, I totally understand. Thank you for your time.
Sweet nonny I appreciate this ask because, well, me too, so let’s dive in 💙
Cut for length and sensitive topic
I feel like it’s going to take a while to open up to a relationship after something like this
And yes he’s unspeakably handsome and capable and sarcastic but that almost makes it harder for you to act yourself around him because of the stakes?!
And so he gets the impression you’re not very fond of him - which is so far from the truth and everyone can see how much chemistry to pair of you have
I feel like some intervention from a sweet friend is going to be required here, someone you feel safe being honest with whether it’s a fellow lady working on base or dare I say Croz could be the one you confess your feelings for Brady to?!
And once Brady realizes that maybe you’re shy or something and not completely turned off by the idea of him, he’ll make a careful move trying not to startle you off because let’s be honest he never really could stop thinking about you anyway
It’s easy between you, at least it seems that way, but anytime he gets too close or suggests something where there aren’t a lot of other people around you clam up, pull away
And he’s starting to get his suspicions but not wanting to jump to conclusions until Kidd keeps them really late one night and he’s delayed in meeting you at the club and one of the new guys is really wasted and all over you
Arrives in time to watch you panic and flee and he’s rather torn about smacking the idiot around and running after you but you’re obviously his priority and Bucky is already lumbering over to the terrified boy anyway
Finds you pacing near your barracks and as he calls your name swears you jump five feet in the air before you realize it’s him and then you allow him to pull you close and soothingly rub at your back
And then the whole story you’ve been holding back comes pouring out of you and Brady wonders if he has time to commit murder before his next mission
Letting him in brings you inevitably closer, helps him understand you a great deal better and he never allows you to endure a social situation alone again - if he’s going to be late someone is tasked with watching over you in his stead
And his patience qualifies him for sainthood, letting you dictate the speed at which you two become more physically intimate
Sometimes you have to cajole him a little if you’re really wanting something and he’s being overly cautious but you know he’d back off the instant you needed it and it only makes you trust him more deeply
Have a feeling he would physically suffer for you and you become very very careful to never take advantage of that or put him in that situation
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theflyingfeeling · 4 months
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fictalkfictalkfictalk
#like the clown i am i spent half the night awake trying to come up with a way to make the olli/allu modern-day royalty AU work out#my first idea was to try and make it similar to my college AU with POV chapters and shit#but i quickly realised it wouldn't work out for the same reason i'm still struggling with the gran hotel AU:#unlike with the college AU i don't have a clear character arch for everyone#e.g. i can't for the life of me think of a way to link the joel/niko side plot to the main plot to make it make sense#and idk what joonas' role would be other than to occasionally hook up with olli and fangirl about aleksi and pine for joel#soooooo it thought i could instead make it a series of shorter stories? if anyone out there is seriosly interested in reading this AU? 👉👈#like. the first one would obviously have to be a little longer since it's the establishment for the whole AU#so far i have an outline for a 6-chapter story from olli's and allu's povs. basically just them getting together#and the rest of what i have planned for the AU would be standalones or shorter establishments?#because if i were to include EVERYTHING in one fic it would most likely end up being +20 chapters lol#and no way in hell would i have the patience for that 💀#that way i could just time-jump to the scenes i want to write the most lol#instead of having to try and weave them together to form a longer coherent plot#i mean i looooooooove slow burn and all that but i don't want to overwhelm myself by starting to write something#only to realise 32k words later that i have no idea where i'm going with it D:#(my ski jumping rpf fic says hi 🙃)#but by writing individual shorter stories it would be much easier for me to handle the plot while also advancing it#because the storyline in my head is so extensive that i feel like i can't fit it all in just one fic#at least in a way that i would be satisfied with 😭#i can make them get together in 6 chapters with no trouble#but for them to actually form a secure relationship and get messed up in all that tabloid drama and face the prejudice of the royal family#until eventually getting their happy ending? yeah nope. gonna need at least 20 chapters for that lmao#and if i wanted to advance all the sideplots on top of all that? yeah nope 😵#with individual stories i could just write all the joonas/tommi and niko/joel (and unrequited j/j) as spin-offs! yay problem solved! 😇#pls don't get your hopes up though lol i may love planning fics but writing is another story entirely 😂#but yeah. watch this space?#or maybe i'll just continue writing random pointless olli/allu standalones whenever i get a burst of inspiration. we'll see 👀
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othercrossee · 1 year
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Will always be funny that all the diamond warden became iridas friend behind adamans back
#z rambles#Sabi literally resides near the pearl settlement and I really do think Irida make sure she's safe and healthy#Making sure no one in the pearl clan is driven by clan hatred enough to hurt a child or just in general checking up on her#I also like to think Irida tent is up on the tallest mountain watching over everyone from there. She's also the only one able to stand#The cold at that height but sabi is also the only other person having any mean up going up there too#I like to think Irida let sabi stays in her tent if its getting dark and there's no way shed fucking sent this kid off in the night#also the news of mai irida friendship is so fucking funny to me#Like ofc you'd befriend your enemys sister. Do u think they talk about their childhood tgt#Do u think mai is one of the earliest people to ever know irida hidden emotion insecurities and secrets?? Yeah#I can go soooo much further into that and how mai became one of the people Irida trust. Like omggg theres so much there#The potential is crazy also I just think mai personality is also what makes adaman a bit more laid back#And I think she has that effect on people ya know. Making others feel secured#I'd say iscan and irida relationship is rather awkward like how you act toward your brotber in law ya know so not much there#But Irida do rely on Iscan sometimes#Arezu and irida have such a little cousin older cousin vibe to them and idk why. Like I can absolutely see Irida teachinng arezu#And helping her with kindness and patience she wish was given to her when she was young#Also I just think irida find arezu cute. Tho she can def get on her nerve at times and shes like this is a child#But its like. Your age gap is literally just 4 years 💀💀💀 arezu 21 yo gang ☝☝#anyways melli and irida relstionship is the funniest to me and idk why#I just think their relationship is so coworker like but I do think they both respect each other for their own musical talent and belief#Tho it def took them a bit of a rocky start and they bicker sometimes mostly about ingo and adaman. Its cute#Theyre both full of hate but so incredibly beautiful and talented. I just think its comical. Just two haters ❤
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sukunasweetheart · 3 months
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oh, to fit him like a glove...
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WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM
based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune
word count; 3k
imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.
and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.
he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.
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he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.
"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.
outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.
"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.
his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.
...not yet.
he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.
his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.
"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.
"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.
"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"
he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.
"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise."
the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.
when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.
however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.
one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.
"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.
sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.
the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.
the temptation is too great.
not. yet.
this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.
if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.
the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.
" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.
"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.
rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.
"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.
his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.
"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.
"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.
sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.
you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.
he suddenly spreads your legs.
at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.
a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.
he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.
the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.
it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.
once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.
he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.
when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.
ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.
your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.
he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.
sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...
"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.
"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.
"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"
"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.
"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.
veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.
sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.
few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.
"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.
"are you trying to test my patience right now?"
you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.
" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.
his gaze softens.
"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"
and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.
you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.
you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.
sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.
"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"
you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.
he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.
"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.
you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.
such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...
his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...
sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.
" 'm cumming-"
his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.
his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.
sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.
your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.
suddenly, he stills.
it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.
when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.
"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.
"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."
not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.
your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.
"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.
his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.
you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.
sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.
cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.
"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.
his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.
"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.
all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.
he breaks away from your lips.
"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.
you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.
his thrusts slowly start back up again.
"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.
"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.
"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."
your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.
... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.
you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.
sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.
once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.
"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.
you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.
"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.
"sukuna... too full..."
he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.
"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."
he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?
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Masterlist
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harmonizewithechoes · 7 months
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shotmrmiller · 8 days
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now im thinking about how you're technically johnny's wife of convenience but now also simon's girlfriend.
like maybe you're crazy but you do remember johnny telling you that you can see other people, just don't bring them home. but every time you try to, simon is there.
something always suspiciously happens when you're out, conveniently forcing you to cut the date short, and the one that picks you up is simon. he doesn't even let you walk yourself out either. he'll already be at your table, putting your phone and wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. and what's worse, with the one guy who didn't mind, the one who had asked for a raincheck, simon told him that you have a husband at home waiting for them with a warm dinner.
he chuckles under his breath at the guy's reaction— ashen face, wide eyes, and gaping mouth. "don't know what ya saw in tha' bloke anyway. he didn't even cover the bill." because simon stared at him until he skittered out the front door without a backward glance.
and then their dates. they're supposed to be a couple; you're just a front, so why do they keep taking you with them as a third wheel. is it an exhibitionist kink? because that's what it feels like every time they're together. it's all sloppy kisses, grabby hands and you swear that if you hadn't spun around and briskly walked away that one lazy saturday simon was home, they would've probably let you watch them fuck each other stupid on the living room carpet.
it's also hard to bring it up to johnny because either simon's there, leaning on the kitchen island with his arms crossed as he watches you exist, or is taking up far too much space on the couch so that if you want to sit there and watch the telly, you're obligated to press up against his massive thigh. (manspreading, simon? really? truly?) or you can't look him in the eye after listening to the headboard repeatedly slam against the wall all night. you can still hear johnny's moans curling around the edges of your very conscious.
then, you meet the rest of the 141: a tall, broad bear of a man with the ocean in his eyes and an iconic mutton chop beard. john price, he'd rumbled as he shook your hand. and then the other one, a devastatingly pretty man with chocolate-brown eyes, a small scar on his cheek, and perfect, white teeth. kyle, the boys call me gaz. a pleasure. he'd grabbed your hand with both of his as he also shook it.
johnny doesn't stick around, excusing himself quickly as he takes a phone call but simon does. he stands directly behind you— a suffocating presence a silent guardian— so close you can feel his body warmth on the expanse of your back.
little close there, eh simon?
no' at all, boss.
once he starts showing up at your college with lunch, you feel like your patience is dangling by a fragile, whisper-thin thread so you confront him directly.
only to have him shut you down in seconds.
what's johnny's is mine. now sit, i know ya didn't eat breakfast this mornin'.
at least he brought you your favorite meal:}
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casiia · 5 months
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༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; smile for the camera.
warnings .: x reader, smut, mdni 18+, very slight exhibition (i think?), v! penetration, choking, size kink, female reader, unedited.
.: masterlist.
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simon has STACKS of polaroids of you for when he’s next deployed. you had bought the polaroid camera, all excited to pick up a new hobby; photography. he thought it was stupid, but doesn’t stop you and your aspiring career. you’re taking pictures of everything for the next few weeks. capturing every memory the two of you shared, and piles of pictures were scattered around each room in the house — random ones, blurred ones, blank ones that didn’t develop right.
when you suggest taking pictures for him one night, he doesn’t seem to catch the hint. why’d he have to waste his precious time and take pictures of you when you’re right here?
he still doesn’t understand. he huffs when you climb off of his lap and scurry into your shared bedroom, the soft mutters of the christmas movie you put on for background noise the only thing that catches his attention — and it annoys him. you come back, your shirt hiked up over your bra and the bulky coral-colored camera in hand. 
you sit back onto his lap, shoving the polaroid into his hand and guiding his finger onto the button. he accidentally clicks it, a flash blinding you momentarily and you laugh. 
“eager are we?”
he sucked on his teeth, his eyes rolling at your poor attempt to tease him. his free hand moves to your waist and dips his fingers below the hem of your shorts. you swat his hand away with a pout, mumbling something about patience but he’s too horny to hear – or care. 
simon lowers the camera as you begin to pull your shirt over your head, you whine and tell him to hold it right. but he snaps back and complains that it’s blocking his view. 
it’s your turn to roll your eyes, and you pout and tell him just to listen to you. he begrudgingly listens, muttering a retort under his breath that makes you smack his arm and shift off of his lap. but he’s quick to tug you back, saying he’s sorry and you’re just teasing him too much.
you shake your head, your finger hovering his, over the shutter button. you reach back with the other and undo your bra, letting it slip from your shoulder and into his lap. it’s then when you press down and simon takes a picture, your bare breast developing on the film as it slides out the exit slot. now he understands.
he watches with tight lips, waiting for the picture to develop and practically watching it turn into gold in front of his eyes. simon laughs in disbelief and looks at you, he wonders if this was your plan all along. play with it for a little before using it to make souvenirs for him, what a good girlfriend you were.
the hours blend and he has you bent and folded in every position he knows. it’s so embarrassing, and you find yourself covering your face or squeezing your thighs together, now trying to sheepishly hide from the lens.
but he tuts, reminding you that it was your idea. you can’t hide from him and if you try, he’ll keep you up all night — until he’s filled his album with enough pictures to relive any memory of you in bed.
he’s leaned back onto the sofa, one hand in your hair and one hand holding up the camera. he’s groaning loudly as you gag around his cock, your wide eyes fluttering up to meet his. he’s drooling at the sight, tears staining your blushed cheeks and dripping down your chin.
simon spreads his legs and angles the camera down to catch a glimpse of the way you have a hand wrapped around the base of his cock — too big for you to fit it all in your mouth. he snaps a picture, the flash making little dots cloud your vision.
you giggle, pulling your lips off of him to which he annoyingly grunts, trying to push back into your mouth.
“how many more of these are y’gonna take?”
you ask, pressing your cheek into the inside of his thigh. you’re not even looking at him anymore, so focused on his cock and the way your saliva makes his foreskin glisten.
he can’t resist, simon takes another picture and pulls the developing film from the dispenser, tossing it into the pile with the other pictures he’s taken. your face just looks so small aligned with his cock, the angle making him so much larger than he was.
“m’takin as many as i want. what am i gonna do when i miss you when i’m away and need to release some stress?”
simon tugs at your hair, nodding over to the cushions next to him. his hands immediately find your waist when you stand and he pushes you down into the couch. your hair sprawling over the pillows as you look up at him with wide eyes.
another giggle escapes you, your hand covers your mouth to suppress the laughter. it wasn’t that you were surprised about him being so needy, it’s the way he had a mountain of pictures lazily tossed into a pile. film wrappers crumpled lazily and strewn across the coffee table, the packages once holding refills for the film.
“what’s funny, bun?”
simon’s voice is hoarse, he’s spreading your legs and another picture is added to his collection. the way your cunt is glistening with the flash, your juices smeared on your inner thighs. he swears he’s going to cherish these forever, keep them around til’ they are all tattered and barely visible.
your breath is knocked from your lungs, and you can’t form words no matter how hard you try. he’s sliding his cock in between your folds, nudging your clit with his angry red tip. you whine, your hips bucking up to meet his, needing more friction to ease your arousal; and he takes another picture, how he wishes these images could capture sounds.
he’s pressing his fat, heavy cock against your stomach, a groan spilling from his lips when his tip is leaking just below your belly button. simon smears his precum against your skin, translucent globs dribbling from his slit.
“look at that, gonna be in your fuckin’ stomach.”
simon grins at the sight, but before he gives you the pleasure of filling you up, he’s leaning over you and pressing his lips to your neck. your fingernails dig into his shoulders, crescents forming under your touch, and a slew of apologies is mumbled under your shaky breath.
he hums into the crook of your neck, nipping harshly at your skin before dragging his rough tongue over the spot — soothing the bite. simon trails down to your breast, leaving a path of love bites and covering you in his mark.
while he has you distracted, he shifts his hips and pushes himself into you slowly sinking in inch by inch before he’s balls deep. he leans back and he groans at the sight, you are completely exposed for him with his bitemarks sloppily etched into your skin, a bulge forming in your belly. he slides his calloused hand up in between the valley of your breast and he wraps his hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly, and when you moan quietly as if flustered like it’s the first time he has you filled with his cock —  he snaps another picture. afraid that this moment will vanish.
that was the last of the film that he has. but god, it’s worth it. he promises he’ll buy you more in the morning, but he’s dropped the camera and holding you close. his throbbing cock plunging in and out of your squelching cunt, your juices painting his abdomen, shining his muscles under the dim light.
when he has to leave, he gathers EVERY SINGLE ONE and hides it in between the pages of an old magazine. no one would be caught dead snooping through his things, but it was a precaution he took because he didn’t want you exposed for all of his teammates to see. you were his, and he was never one of share.
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AN: guys...i don't even have words tbh. just simon and like he WOULD take so many pics i'm just sooo :((( urgh. i hate him. if i missed any warnings lmk!
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roseglazedlens · 6 months
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⦑ 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⦒ ✧.*
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NANAMI KENTO X FEM! READER synopsis: Nanami is pent up after work, so you give him the best fifteen minutes of his day as a reward. content: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, suit kink, unprotected p in v, hair pulling, degradation kink, semi-public exhibitionism, creampie, manhandling, cumdump, rough, daddy kink, pet name (princess) a/n: first jjk fic. blond in blue dress shirt supremacy... that is all. « 758 words┇masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »
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Nanami Kento is the kind of man who fucks hard. Especially after a long day of work and his stress is pent up in his system, Nanami will use your body like the cumdump you are. He claims your body has magical healing powers that can make any headache or muscle cramp disappear.
As he enters your shared home, you, the doting girlfriend as always, greets him: “How was work, honey?” But today, Nanami is not in the mood for conversation. The moment you are close enough to be held by him, he turns you around and without a hesitation says:
“Bend over.” The low drawl and commanding tone in Nanami’s voice triggers a surge of heat towards your belly. He knows you love his directness, and he’s not afraid to make you come in your underwear right now, knowing that he can make you come over and over again until you beg to stop. Looking down, you see how his dick tents over his expensive dress pants, and the mere image of him thinking about you during work or driving home gets you excited.
And that's exactly where you are now. Nanami unbuttons his white suit jacket, tailored so firmly it hugs his trapezius muscles and arms that it needs to be removed for easier movement, easier movement to fuck you senseless without hindrance. His cuffs roll up to his elbows, exposing his forearms that tenses as he unbuckles his belt swiftly with one hand. Then Nanami shuffles his pants down, just enough to take his massive fucking cock out and taunt you with his size. You shift your pants and underwear down yourself, because you know Nanami doesn't like waiting.
Your hole is already dripping wet, expected, the insides of your cunt still remembering how Nanami was fucking your insides into the bed this morning. He can only spare fifteen minutes with you before he leaves for work, and Nanami makes sure you always cum on time. You know your boyfriend is a horndog but he always has the decency, or patience (unlike you) to eat your home cooked dinner first before trying to get you into the bedroom. But today? He can’t wait—and so can’t you.
Nanami doesn’t waste a single second not inside of you. He slams himself right in, and your cunt instantly wraps and tightens around you, remembering the shape of him, just how he likes it. His grip on your love handles is firm, unrelenting. Each thrust of him forces a choked breath out of you, whimpered mumbles of his name to go faster and faster until your pussy catches the high you’ve been so desperate to release.
“K-Kento, what if someone hears us? Or worse… sees us?” You feel a whisk of wind through your calves, and look back to find the door not closed fully.
“Good. Let’s show them how much of a filthy slut you are for taking my cock.” Nanami loosens his tie, and your pussy clenches at the sight of it.
“Fuck, if I didn’t have to go to work, I would be fucking your pussy like my toy from morning to night. Windows wide open. Let them see the slutty look on your face when my cock is inside of you."
“Please, daddy.” You're begging now, your orgasm is threatening for release but you're not quite there yet.
“Say that again. Louder. Can’t hear shit with the sound of my dick slapping into your cunt.” Nanami doesn’t stop, fully intending to keep going until he reaches his own high, and you reaching yours.
“Please daddy... I want all of you...”
“So my load this morning isn’t good enough? You want seconds? Aren't you a greedy little girl?”
He pulls on your hair hard, and the moans that came out of you is indistinguishable from pleasure or pain. An electrifying sensation rushes underneath you, and this time, you give in to the feeling and come on his dick without restraint.
“I’m coming too, princess.” Only when you finishes cumming, he then permits himself to come too. Trails of white strings shoot inside of you, filling every crevice of your insides with his sticky goodness as he lets out a low grunt of pleasure.
When he’s done, Nanami pulls up his pants, and he’s wordless again. He looks at his watch, and it's been exactly fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of sex each time, just as planned, no more and no less. Even with sex, Nanami never goes overtime.
“Can't wait for my fifteen minutes tomorrow, Kento.”
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thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. idk who likes jjk in my taglist but i think u guys know tags: @valsthea @httpsuguru @emilzke @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.
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yarrowleef-babbles · 1 year
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mistborn's magic is cool but im starting to wonder if i can no longer enjoy stories about political revolutionary groups that are very very clearly written by em....people who are probably not very revolutionary irl. to make a long grouchy ramble short.
ive liked plenty of books by non radical authors, but the fact this one is *about* a needed revolution makes those moments particularly distracting. sometimes it makes the characters feel disingenuous.
anyway i absolutely loathe elend venture as a person and a character and a concept just. so so much. every time he talks i want to strangle him
abolish your house and relinquish your wealth or shut the fuck up forever challenge
#i feel like there was a time i didnt care that much about this i could just focus on the fiction literally and take it as is#but in recent years i have lost a lot of patience for this sort of thing specifically...#'yeah well not ALL nobility 🙄🙄🙄 did you ever think about THAT galaxy brained thought?? some of us are polite'#god. god. i cannot believe this little useless twit who spent his whole life being complacent like every other noble#who was not even willing to ENTERTAIN the idea of having to give up ANY of his power post revolution#who walked up to the rebels and was like 'you ruffians will simply eat each other alive without our guidance'#WAS JUST. MADE KING.#AND EVERYONE JUST. AGREED TO THAT???#yeah sure he has only ever fantasized quietly about revolutionary sentiments#and didnt actually do anything until other people came in and did the the revolution FOR HIM so he could just stepped in and be like#oh well you see i had a boys club night and read some books so let me tell you the right way to do this revolution#that conveniently includes not rly taking anything away from me or the other rampant rapist slave owners!!!!#hey guys. pals. buds. feeling bad about something while continuing to benefit from and uphold it doesnt make you a good person actually#ITS LIP SERVICE. WORTHLESS. POSTURING. HE WOULD NEVER HAVE DONE ANYTHING USEFUL IF THE REVOLUTION HADNT FORCED HIM TO MOVE OR DIE#you know i actually dont think we should be friends with complicit rapist slave owners. why should the nobles keep anything??#ONE THIRD IS A LOT. IT IS A LOT FOR EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT AND BE COMPLICIT IN#the lord ruler did not make nobles rape their slaves!! he didnt oversee any of their daily atrocities!! he in fact ignored a lot of things!#that was aalllll their personal choice. 1/3 are regular rapists 3/3 dont believe skaa are people. even their pity is like pity for animals.#ELOND ONLY JUST DISCOVERED THAT SKAA WERE IN FACT PEOPLE (MAYBE) A WEEK AGO#i hate this bitch so fucking much im going to assassinate him myself#actually i think the skaa should have beheaded literally everyone in the palace <3#and i could not care less if elend found it distasteful <3 die <3#'well you see he gave just SUCH a good speech about keeping the peace and being nonviolent above all else'#'that the rebels instantly dropped their weapons and realized what a brilliant intellectual he was#and fell in love with him on the spot'#shut up shut the entire fuck up that is the most Insufferable Spineless Liberal bs thing i've ever heard#yeah his version of *hypothetical* peaceful revolution was doing really well for the skaa#his plan was to take up his house with all the murdered bodies it was built on and try to gently sway everyone to be Nicer Slave Owners#sorry. sorry this framing really didnt age well. idk if im going to be able to read the rest of the trilogy i am so annoyed#i might but im taking a break
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munson-blurbs · 8 days
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Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.
A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰
WC: 3.8k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers
Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️ Divider credit to @saradika
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“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”
“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”
You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down. 
“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”
He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.” 
He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them. 
“I’m serious.”
Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”
“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint. 
“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?
“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”
He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office. 
Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again. 
Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground. 
You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner. 
What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone. 
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Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl. 
Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates. 
“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”
Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”
You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.” 
“Really?”
“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”
Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around. 
Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.
The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe. 
Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves. 
“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing. 
“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination. 
Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though. 
A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.
“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman. 
Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction. 
You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen. 
Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone. 
The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”
“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”
A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”
Eddie smirks. “One…two—”
Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits. 
Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself. 
Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land. 
His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though. 
Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet. 
“Are you okay?” you ask.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?
Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk. 
In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside. 
Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit. 
“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”
“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you. 
“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”
“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds. 
“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”
“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”
“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”
He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”
“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so. 
“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”
A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”
“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”
“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”
Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”
“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”
He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey. 
All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—
A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”
“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”
“Don’t care.”
Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies. 
Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs. 
Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately. 
“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.” 
You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch. 
Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter. 
“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you. 
The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice. 
One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible. 
“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”
He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom. 
The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.
“Get the fuck out!” you hiss. 
Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.
Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.
“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.” 
Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them. 
Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”
You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind. 
“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”
“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle. 
A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”
“Only for you,” you echo. 
He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”
The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror. 
When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.
“Atta girl,” he praises. 
At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”
The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle. 
He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”
You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip. 
“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading. 
“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached. 
“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”
You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.” 
Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl. 
One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”
“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles. 
“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”
He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you. 
Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him. 
A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.
“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.
“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”
Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in. 
The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.
“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.
“Yeah?”
“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had. 
Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown. 
“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”
A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.
“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”
A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can. 
“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”
You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”
Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur: 
“You read my mind, Beautiful.”
--
1K notes · View notes
thevillainswhore · 17 days
Text
A Forbidden Invitation
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Pairing: Best Friend’s Dad!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 11.5k
Summary: You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.
Warnings: Age gap, flashback, betrayal of friendship, manipulation, coercion, reader has severe daddy issues and self esteem problems, derogatory names, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, kissing, nipple play, blowjob, throat fucking, choking, fingering, pussy slapping, p in v sex, squirting.
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne
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“Come on, babe!” Rebecca whined at the edge of your bed. “You’re telling me a weekend away from this shithole doesn’t sound good?” 
It had been a whole hour of your friend begging you to come back home with her for your midterm break and while you usually had the patience of a saint, it was difficult to keep composed as she refused to back down to your unacceptable reasoning.
You sighed, finally closing your laptop with an inwards huff and coming to terms that you would not be getting any more work done. Blowing out a breath, you leveled your gaze onto her. 
“Becs,” you treaded carefully, mindful of her feelings. “It’s very sweet of you. But, I really need to get my work finished.” Rebecca’s face fell sullen and you rushed to explain. “I just like my time alone, y'know? I concentrate better.”
Her brunette hair fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. This girl really knew how to put on a show and you playfully rolled your eyes at her dramatics. But as she lifted her head with a pout and her wide, shining ocean blues, you knew you were done for. 
Oh no. The puppy eyes.
“Hey!” You pointed at her. “No—stop that! I’m not changing my mind.” 
The intensity of her stare only worsened while she slowly gained on you. “But what am I gonna tell my Dad when he asks when you’re not there?” 
“Wait.” Clarity hit you then and you held your hand up to stop your friend in her tracks. With a glare you questioned, “Did you already say I was coming?” 
The guilty twitch of her eye said it all. “Maybe—“
“Becca!” 
“I couldn’t help it!” she swore. “My dad invited you, I couldn’t tell him no.” 
“He invited me?” you asked, surprised. 
“Yeah. The day we met, he called to see how I was doing—asked if I had made any new friends.” 
She shrugged. “We’ve moved around a lot ever since I can remember and trying to fit in somewhere…” Her voice suddenly grew quiet as she solemnly whispered, “I’ve never had a real friend before. You’re the only one who’s been able to stick around for so long and he really wants to meet you.”
The frustration embedded in you faded out to make way for the sudden ache in your heart. To your knowledge, Rebecca was a new student who transitioned to your college in the middle of the recent school year. Both of you had a couple of classes together and the first time you ever saw her still reigned fresh in your mind. 
The doors to the auditorium crashed open as she stumbled in late and out of breath to her first class. Strands of her brown hair fell from the messy bun on the top of her head and her cheeks coloured bright red; it pained you to watch her embarrassment as a room of over a hundred stared at her, along with the professor. And so began your friendship when you rushed out of your seat to help her with her huge stack of books, ushering her to the back to sit next to you. 
Since then the two of you had been inseparable. Rebecca was a genuine, lovely girl — sweet and a breath of fresh air to your college life. She never failed to let you know how appreciative she was to your kindness of friendship, so even though you had only known her for a short while, it felt as though she was a true friend; one who would be staying around for a while.
Sighing in defeat, there was no way you could decline the offer after hearing she had been gushing over you to her Dad. “Okay, okay—Fine. I’ll come— AH!”
You squealed as she leapt onto you, knocking you back against your mattress as she profusely thanked you while vibrating with joy. The giggles and uncontrolled laughter that filled your room masked the unexplainable dread knotted in your stomach. But not wanting to tarnish Rebecca’s excitement, you let go of your worries for the time being. 
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Going to the club alone wasn’t an activity you made a habit out of; you understood the dangers of your vulnerability to men who couldn’t take a hint. 
However, that summer night — a hazy memory now in the present — forbade common sense and instead, threw it out of the window. Not to be seen again until you woke up the next day. 
The stress of the week had gotten too much for you; too many assignments needing to be handed in at once, your parents bombarding you with passive aggressive texts about their ongoing disappointment with you and the cherry on top of it all, you had caught your boyfriend cheating on you with the girl he had sworn you had nothing to worry about. 
So of course, that week in particular had tested you. But instead of moping around your dorm room, your mind unhelpfully persisted with the motion to get shitfaced drunk and allow future you to worry about your problems. In the moment, you thought that to be your most genius idea of the week — letting your hair down in a sweaty nightclub around people you didn’t know and not caring about the consequences sounded perfect. 
In hindsight, it was probably one of your most beautiful mistakes. 
You remembered it all clearly. The newfound freedom of not giving a fuck, the humid air with the bass of the speakers invading your ears — every small detail added to the atmosphere as you were in your own world in the middle of the dancefloor, erotically swaying your hips side to side and running your hands through your hair. 
The short cocktail dress you had worn to make yourself feel good illuminated your curves while also giving you the liberty to dance without limit to your movement. You wanted to forget for a while — go crazy and let loose. 
Which was why the stunning pair of cerulean eyes that pinned you down across the room from the bar was your ticket to a night of fun — everything you needed at the moment in time. From your vantage point, the stranger looked to be in his forties, but in the best way possible. His form was built, the right amount of muscle carrying his frame and his grown out brown locks tucked behind his ears. No one had ever looked more sexy to you. 
Aware of being the center of attention to an attractive stranger, you smoothed your hands down from your hair, seductively over your neck, teasing your glowing skin and finally to your chest. You bit your lip when his hungry stare that soaked your lace underwear focused on your tits, overspilling from your dress and you watched, smug and exhilarated as the unknown man tightened his fist against his tight trouser cladded thighs. 
Through the whole night, the delightful burn of his stare never left you. A brand was marked into your skin; a warning to everyone else that you were spoken for — only for the night at least. 
If you ordered a drink at the bar, the stranger was a couple of seats down from you, greedily lapping up your figure. If you were sitting in the smokers area, catching your breath and cooling down, he was there too, leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette with his attention solely focused on you, no matter the amount of women who were not so discreetly throwing themselves over him. 
Even at the end of the night, as you once again danced to the deep bass of the beat among everyone else, he watched you from his own corner, still as enamored with you as the first time your eyes met. 
Adrenaline spiked your veins. It was addicting to be the object of someone’s desires, to be seen. 
You had only spoken through heated looks and loaded glances, but he was unlike any man you had encountered before. Mysterious and cryptic. You were just as lost in him as he was into you and you couldn’t have cared less that he was obviously older than you. It was what you needed. He was what you needed. 
The buzz from the few shots you had taken reached their peak and you decided it was now or never to claim what you so rightfully deserved. 
With a bounce in your step, you strutted in your heels through the crowd of people, never taking your eyes off your prize and him neither. He licked his lips as you closed the distance, stopping just before you bumped into the tip of his shoes. 
“Listen,” you spoke over the music, determined and resolute. “I’m gonna skip past the pleasantries and bullshit.” The allured stranger raised his eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me and I definitely want you. So, do you want to get out of here?” 
Your bravery faltered slightly as you realised in his close proximity how direct you had been. While you were almost certain this stranger was as attracted to you as you were to him, the tiny seed of doubt that a mature man wouldn’t want to hook up with someone as young as you revoked your liquid courage. 
But that worry soon disappeared when he gave you a fierce once over now you were up close. A raging storm of lust and desire clouded his beautiful eyes, wild and desperate to get his hands on you. Your breaths came in quick and heavy as he smirked so sinfully. The bastard knew he held so much power in the palm of his hands when his body towered over yours, the difference in size between you not hard to miss. There you could tell the fun had already begun. 
The rest of the club became a blur as he brought his mouth down to your ear. You felt each slow and steady breath against the curve of your neck and you were sure even in the darkness, he noticed the  goosebumps that littered your skin. “All I need you to know tonight is my name.” His voice was as sexy as you had imagined, a deep, rasped husk that made your legs weak. But it was his next words that almost made you collapse. “Because it’s the only thing you’re gonna be screamin’ for the rest of the night, darlin’.” 
Your mind grew foggy at the next sequence of events. The hustle of getting into a car and fiercely making out in the backseat until you arrived at an upscale hotel. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were waiting impatiently at the reception desk and the next you were stumbling into a lavish hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other as items of clothing flew across the room in your haste to get naked. 
The two of you bumped into the array of furniture in the hallway, the thought of tearing away from each other's lips unbearable. Bucky, you learned was his name, was an amazing kisser, his tongue gently teased yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair and he kept a firm grip of your cheeks like he was desperate to keep you close. 
“Fuck,” he slurred between kisses. “You’re so— fuckin’— gorgeous.” His eagerness to keep his lips against yours while complimenting you spun you for a loop, unfamiliar to this kind of intensity.  
The clink of dog tags were the culprit to halt your motions while he kept on kissing you, traveling down the slope of your neck and to your shoulders to bite your skin. As he was occupied, you took your chance to admire his physique. For a man his age, he was jacked — a toned stomach with several abs sharp enough to cut and two deliciously slender grooves running underneath his trousers to a bulge big enough for you to let an unhinged moan escape. 
His body was sickening, he truly had no business to look as good as he did for a man his age. But like hell were you going to complain when all the boys at college disappointed you time and time again. The bar was low and this man had already exceeded your expectations, he was only supposed to be an idea fit for your wildest fantasies. Yet, there he was, real and existing. 
Time was of the essence and you wasted none of it as you ripped yourself out of his hold, left in only your underwear, and dropped to your knees without pause to hurriedly remove his belt. 
“Oh, shit.” He gulped. “Baby— baby—you don’t have to do that—“ 
You hushed his assurances and batted away his hands that tried to pull you up without real effort. “No, I don’t have to. But I want to.” Fluttering your eyes, you looked up at him and slyly smirked. “Let me suck your cock. You just worry about having a good time.” With a wink, you unlooped the expensive leather through the buckle and dropped it to the floor, soon after working to unzip his fly and rid him of the offending trousers that stood in your way. 
The material slid down his thick thighs and he was left stood in his underwear, black briefs tented from his hard cock. A frenzied need to soothe the urge to get your mouth around him took the reins when you instantly nuzzled into his crotch.
“Fuck me, you’re a needy little slut aren’t you?” He wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his fist, controlling your movements. Though, there was no reason to, eager as you were. You would have done anything he asked. 
You did do anything he asked. 
You hummed while suckling the tip of his cock over the material of his underwear, “Mhm.” He threw his head back and groaned like a wild beast while you admired the wet patch growing on the fabric before your very eyes. It was unhinged — raw. But your stranger of the night didn’t seem to care, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back from pleasure. 
Unable to control your burst of desire, you suddenly shucked his briefs down. 
Your mouth fell open at the sheer size of him, an audible gasp echoed over the silence of the marble walls. Never had you seen a dick as pretty or big before and the drool that had gathered in your mouth began to leak out the side of your mouth. 
You were aching for him. 
With a cocky smile, the man tapped under your chin twice to direct your head upwards. “Up here, darlin’—I want those pretty eyes on me when you take my cock.” 
Immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for him, he chuckled breathily at the crazed look in your dilated pupils. “Well, aren’t you just the biggest whore I ever did see.” Grabbing his cock and pressing the tip onto your tongue, he began to slide it forward. “Good fuckin’ job I like ‘em that way. Now open up wide so I can fuck your throat, baby—”
“Babe!” 
Jolting out of your memory infused dream with a shriek, you span your head around to Rebecca in the drivers seat of her car. “Oh, there you are!” she hissed, teasingly. “I called for you like ten times. Where the fuck did you go?” 
You swallowed the dryness coating your throat and hastily sat up. A hot sweat had settled over your skin and you immediately grabbed your water bottle from the footwell and chugged it down. 
Once you had cooled down, you glanced back at your friend, cringing at the raised eyebrow that meant you weren’t getting out of an explanation. “I, uh— I’m sorry I didn’t—um—get much sleep last night,” you lamely replied. 
The unimpressed expression on her face told you she didn’t believe you. But you were saved when her face suddenly lit up with glee. “Eek! We’re finally here!” 
Had a three hour drive really gone by that fast? 
Looking out the car window, your eyes widened when you saw an estate, guarded by iron gates around the whole property, surrounded by acres upon acres of land. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, even when Rebecca began animatedly speaking with someone by the toll station. 
Who the fuck was this girl? 
Eventually, she pulled up to the house, passing the stone driveway with a water fountain in the middle and cut the engine off. “Come on, you. My Dad’s expecting us.” 
You were in a daze while you opened your door, stepping out the car and taking in every inch of the property. You would have never guessed your friend, the most down to earth and humble person on campus, had a lavish lifestyle with all the trimmings. It was clear she didn’t feel the need to brag about her privilege and her nonchalant attitude about it only baffled you more.
The doors to the mansion suddenly swung open and what you could only have presumed to be a butler promptly rushed towards the car. “Miss Barnes, how lovely to see you again.” 
Rebecca scoffed and hugged the man without hesitation. “Don’t be silly. You know you don’t call me that.” 
Even with her sweetness, he remained as professional then ever and brushed by her to pick up her bags. “Of course, Miss Barnes. Your father is out at the minute, but he has left you a gift by the entryway table.” 
With a high pitched scream, your friend ran inside without looking back. It was hard not to smile at her carefree ways and trying to shake the deepening apprehensiveness from the moment Rebecca invited you, you rounded to the boot of the car to grab your luggage. 
“That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” The butler immediately stepped forward and swiftly picked up your bags along with Rebecca’s with ease. 
“Oh, no that’s okay, honestly! I can bring them in no problem!” You tried detesting, not used to any kind of special treatment.
But it was no use as he kindly insisted, “There is no need to worry. Please relax and join your friend, I believe there is a gift for you too.” 
Sighing, you yielded and eventually followed in your friend’s steps, twiddling your fingers anxiously while you walked into the foyer of the mansion. 
Carefully crafted marble walls with what you could only guess were decorated with millions of dollars worth of extravagant paintings, lined up neatly up to the grand, spiral staircase where a round oak table sat in front of it. 
You instantly spotted two gift baskets, difficult to miss as they were both filled to the brim with an assortment of treats and bright pink tissue paper. 
Rebecca was already busy appreciating hers, taking care to read the note her father had presumably left her and gushing over the copious amount of sweet treats, new nightwear and a cashmere blanket, like this wasn’t a regular occurrence to her. 
However, it was surprising to see you had also been spoiled; all of your favourites, intricately placed in the hamper. Your eye caught the note addressed with your name on and hesitantly, you reached out for it and unfolded the card — a simple yet polite message inside. 
I can only apologise that I wasn’t here upon your arrival. 
I’ve heard great things about you from my Becs and I sincerely look forward to meeting you when I’m home. 
Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy the contents of your gift basket. 
J.B.B.
“Oh, he’s the best,” Rebecca swooned, hugging the white blanket to her chest. “He said he got called into work for a couple of hours so he should be back tonight. 
You exhaled, flitting your eyes over your new gifts. The information eased your nerves slightly — you were never any good at meeting parents, whether that be of friends or partners. The dynamic of a happy household wasn’t one you had experience with and the idea of ruining first impressions caused an anxiety you didn’t particularly care to revisit often. Especially now that Rebecca had come into your life — a friend you could absolutely see yourself building a strong bond with. 
Realising you had been silent for too long, you spoke up, “Your Dad is very kind.” Your fingers inched forward and ran over the soft material of your very own matching cashmere blanket, it felt like you were touching a cloud. From the corner of your eye, you caught your friend suddenly looking sheepish. “What’s wrong?” you asked, turning towards her. 
“I’m sorry about all of this.” She vaguely gestured her hand up in the air, to which you guessed she meant the sheer amount of money that screamed in your face. “I didn’t warn you and I should have. It's just that—” Rebecca’s eyes darted down and she crossed her arms over her stomach, shrinking in on herself. 
You stepped closer, rubbing your hand over her arm for comfort. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 
She took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to you and shrugging. “I didn’t know if your intentions would be good if you knew about the money.” 
“Oh, Becs.” Your heart ached at the obvious trauma from her past. Squeezing her arm, you attempted to uplift the sullen mood with some playful teasing. “I became your friend because I couldn’t get rid of you. Although, now it doesn’t hurt to know your family is loaded.” 
Reluctantly, the smile grew on her face, turning into a bright grin she no longer could hide. “You’re awful.” 
“Tell me about it.” You winked, nudging her hip with your own. “Seriously, you’re a good person and I’m your friend because I want to be. I couldn’t give a fuck if you’re rich.” 
The muscles of her body relaxed and she quickly pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, babe.” 
“It’s nothing, silly.” You squeezed her one last time before breaking away. 
Rebecca sniffled, blinking away the onslaught of tears that were close to falling before cheerfully grabbing her basket. “Come on then, let’s go set up and order some pizza.” 
Picking up your own basket, you followed your friend up to her room.
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The few hours spent working on your assignments, eating pizza and listening to music flew by. Spending so much time with Rebecca actually turned out to be fun. You usually spent all your free time by yourself, respiting into a hermit because of your inability to enjoy friendly companionship.  
But it was to your surprise that you found yourself not regretting agreeing to the trip. The thought of being back at your dorm, wasting your night away by sleeping, watching trash tv and succumbing to the vibator in your bedside drawer begging you to relive a night of passion now seemed sad as you glanced at your friend and the corner of your lip curled up. 
That bubble burst quickly when a shout coming from the foyer echoed up to the open bedroom door. “Rebecca, sweetheart—I’m home!” 
Instantly, her eyes widened and she shoved the laptop she was using off her lap at once, squealing with joy before leaping off the bed and running downstairs. “Dad!” 
Your fingers twitched over the keyboard of your own laptop in anticipation, looking towards the door and sighing in resignation. 
Decidingly, you thought it was best to give your friend a moment with her father. Not at all because you wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. 
But as a couple of minutes went by, the tick of the pink clock on the desk getting louder and louder by the second, you figured your absence would go noticed and so you begrudgingly shut the lid of your laptop to slowly begin making your way out of the room. 
As you reached the balcony at the top of the staircase, you looked down just as Rebecca hugged her Dad tightly. An ache panged in your heart.
You weren’t close with your parents; neither of them checked up on you or asked when you’d be coming home to see them. They only contacted you when they felt like spewing their badly-hidden resentment towards you and the hurt you thought you had buried long ago began to make its way front and center. 
You shook your head and cleared your throat. You wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t tarnish your stay with your friend over something so silly — or be scared to meet her parent. So with a deep breath, you glided down the steps. 
Rebecca’s Dad had his back turned to you, which meant you only saw his thick head of hair, tucked neatly behind his ears and the muscles of his back straining against the white dress shirt he wore. 
You were unable to pinpoint the exact reason a tingle started to form in your lower stomach, the sensation extremely familiar by now, but you immediately scolded yourself and pinched the skin of your thigh to snap out of whatever mood had caused such depravity. This was your friend’s father; get it together.  
As you reached the bottom of the steps, your friend’s eyes locked onto yours and her whole face beamed. “Dad,” she gasped excitedly. “I want you to meet my friend.” 
You steeled your features; the warmest smile you could manage with the straightest posture possible. 
Time stood still when Rebecca stepped back to let her Dad turn around. Your emotions were all under control and you finally felt like you could do this. 
But that was until your eyes met and your face dropped. Those blue eyes, those damn blue eyes, you would remember them anywhere. 
Bile began to rise in your throat when he faced you completely. Suddenly, you were thrown back to that forbidden night that all started with the same man across the room by the bar, watching you like you were his last meal. Bucky.
You held back a loud gasp, aware that Rebecca was witnessing the interaction. Though, your blood ran cold when his lips lifted into a grin, one you knew a little too well. 
The palms of your hands were clammy with sweat and your heart hammered inside your chest. You weren’t sure how to play this, the stifling silence had already been stretched out ridiculously. 
Rebecca’s voice broke the quiet with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry Dad, we’re a little stumped. Exams have been kicking our asses lately and the drive over was long.”
Guilt crippled you then. While you could never have known the one night stand who invaded your thoughts daily would turn out to be your best friend's father, it still didn’t change anything — you fucked her Dad.
He finally took his eyes away from you to swing an arm around his daughter and laughed in fondness. “Don’t worry, I understand, Becs—you girls must be exhausted.” He then lifted his gaze back to you. “You must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. He doesn’t remember you? The lack of expression or recognition instilled a sense of hope within you. 
Maybe he had forgotten about your night together — the low lighting of the club you met him at and the haze of alcohol hindering your senses as he took you to a hotel created a perfection concoction of forgetfulness you rationalised. 
Eventually, deciding to act oblivious and hope for the best, you stammered up the courage to introduce yourself. “M—Mr Barnes. Thank you for letting me stay in your home.”
“Oh none of that, please.” A shiver raced down your spine, memories of begs and whimpers taunting your mind. “I’m James. But call me Bucky, darlin’.” 
It took all the strength you had to trap the moan on the verge of escaping your lips. Yep, you definitely remembered that name. 
Rebecca’s Dad stuck out his hand in front of you. “I’m very happy to meet you.” Your eyes darted between his hand and his face and then to your friend. Steadying your breath, you hesitantly placed your hand into his and felt his fingers tighten against yours. He shook your hand, his thumb gliding over your skin. 
Tightening your lips in anguish, you replied, “V—Very happy to meet you, too.” 
Bucky’s touch lingered against yours until you snatched your hand out of his when Rebecca hopped giddily and clapped her hands. “Oh, this is great! This weeks going to be so fun!”  
You didn’t return the sentiment. This week was going to be your worst nightmare come to life — your biggest mistake being dangled on a string in front of you, only reminding you what a piece of shit you were. 
“Okay, Dad. We’re gonna catch up on a little more work, so I’ll come find you later.” Your friend grabbed your hand that was limped by your side and started to pull you back up the stairs. 
“Hard workers, ain’t you?” he laughed. “If you need anything let me know.” 
“Thanks Dad, will do!” Rebecca shouted back down the stairs. 
When you had reached the first landing balcony, you couldn’t help sneaking one more tiny glance at the one night stand you never thought you would see again. But your heart skipped a beat as you saw him already looking up at you and he slid his hand out of his suit pocket to wave at you before you disappeared. 
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You were sitting on Rebecca’s bed, waiting for her return when the inevitable happened. 
An emergency she called it, when she slipped her feet into her shoes and swiftly threw on her hoodie, claiming an issue with her neighbour she absolutely needed to handle. 
You had tried insisting on going with her, an extra pair of hands to help out. But she instantly pushed away your pleas, telling you not to worry and to focus on your work. That was Becca, a true sweetheart. But you wanted to strangle her then, scold her for leaving you in uncharted territory by yourself. 
Nervous and on edge, you couldn’t concentrate on your assignment for the longest time. You consistently made quick glances to the open door of your friend’s bedroom, listened for footsteps upon the landing. Soon enough though, your nerves died down when nothing happened and it allowed you to focus on your laptop, finally becoming fixated on your assignment. 
The only unusual thing that caught you off guard by yourself was the sudden heat of the house. You had built up a sweat in your hoodie and, unable to handle it, you took the fleeced material off in a swift flourish, leaving you in a tank top and shorts. 
Other than that, you powered through, happy to be finally getting somewhere with your work. You weren’t even sure how much time had passed since Rebecca had left and the worry of how long it was taking her to come home slipped your mind. 
Your guard was down while you hummed to the low music, lying on your stomach, back facing the door and typing away as you swung your legs in the air.
“I see you’re working hard.” 
Yelping in fright, you almost fell off the bed, the deep grunt of Bucky’s smooth tone scaring you from the sanctuary of his daughter's room. You whipped your head around to see your friend’s Dad leaned against the doorway dressed in a tight black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his dog tags rested against his chest.  
The sight was a difficult one to swallow. 
It was instinct to turn around so you were facing him as you raced to shuffle up Rebecca’s bed — a danger, your mind cautioned, to have your back turned to a wolf. 
He held his hands out in front of him as he walked towards you, as though taming a frightened lamb. “Hey there, it’s only me. No need to be scared.” 
“S—Sorry. I was a little lost in my assignment.” You apologised as you scrambled to gather all of your supplies together, desperate to gain some space from Bucky. “I think I’m done for the night, though. So I’ll just go downstairs and wait for Becca—“ 
“Hold up.” Bucky sat on his daughter's bed, leaving little to no proximity between you to effectively trap you in. “There’s no rush now, is there?” 
Exhaling shakily, you stuttered, “N—No— um, not at all, Mr Barnes—“
“Bucky,” he corrected gently. 
“Yes, B—Bucky.” You struggled to test his name on your tongue, not having spoken it since your night together. “I’m so sorry.” 
Rebecca’s dad just laughed, amused at your rambling. 
A tension, seemingly only one-way, swallowed you whole, threatening to drown you. It was impossible to hold direct eye contact with his ocean blues eyes, ones that ran vivid through your mind in your nights alone filled with heated memories and your biggest — now new favourite — vibrator.
His voice snapped you out of lust filled haze. “Rebecca shouldn’t be too long. Poor old neighbour lost his wife a couple of years back and Becs—the angel she is—goes over to help him when he needs it.” 
You could see it. She was the sort to not think twice about helping anyone in need and the thought eased your mind. “Well,” you smiled, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. “That’s very kind of her.” 
“That’s my Becs,” Mr Barnes proudly grinned. 
The room grew silent once again. Picking your fingernails, you fought to calm the cold, harsh anxiety eating away at you. It still seemed as though Bucky couldn’t remember you, but a nagging feeling in your gut wouldn’t let that settle your nerves. 
“I just thought I’d come check on you anyway, sweetheart. Y'know, make sure you’ve settled in nicely for the week.” He smiled while placing his palm on the bed in the small space between you, leaning his weight against it as he got closer. 
“Y—Yeah.” You cleared your throat before continuing, keeping your answers short. “Mhm, I’m all good, thank you.” You smiled tightly, hoping Bucky would take the hint to leave, but alas your luck was short. 
“What you been workin’ on then, darlin’?” He nodded to your laptop resting on your legs. 
“Oh, not much.” You downplayed. “Just a written piece, nothing major— no wait!—” Bucky cut you off as he abruptly swiped your laptop from your lap, the cold ring on his pinky finger brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. Before you could even think of hastily clambering for it back, he already had your laptop open and sitting on his thick thighs as he began reading. 
“A psychology major, huh?” Bucky smirked, eyes scattering across the screen to take your assignment in. “Impressive. You’re a very clever girl.” 
Heat quickly rose up your neck, warming your cheeks as you were rendered speechless. A heavy ache between your legs left you squeezing your thighs together because of his praise — his words sent you straight back to the night against the hotel’s glassed windows he had brutally fucked you against while worshipping how much of a good girl you were for taking all of him. 
Quickly, you shook the intense thought from your mind, scolding yourself for letting it happen an umpteenth time. “Really, it’s nothing,” you said.
Bucky stopped reading your work and looked at you intensely, enough to make you squirm. “You really shouldn’t put yourself down like that.” Placing your laptop on the floor, he smoothly shuffled closer to you. You couldn’t help but stare at the hand he moved into your vicinity. His touch as he laid it on the naked skin of your thigh sent a thrill through your whole body. “Hasn’t anyone ever praised you before, huh?” 
His intricate voice, delicate and gentle soothed you and excited you both in equal measure. The previous alarm bells blaring in your head were non-existent when he squeezed the meat of your thigh so tenderly with his large hands. “I— um— I don’t—”
“Nobody told you how proud they are of you?” 
Your eyes glossed over as the shield you had built for yourself started to dismantle. Bucky was right. You were lonely and tired and you worked so hard for little reward. Your parents didn’t tell you they were proud of you, nobody ever told you how good you had been. 
Bucky’s hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb delicately rubbing over your lip. You melted into his touch too quickly. “Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”  
You willingly fell into a dangerous trap he had set out as your eyes fluttered closed. Your friend’s Dad’s caress was so familiar, even after so long — his scent intoxicating and his voice a melody to the scrambled mess in your head. 
It didn’t occur to you then, the issue with Bucky inching more forward, almost until his chest was plastered to yours. The thought of his strange comfortability with his daughter’s friend wasn’t worthy of space in your head. 
For once you weren’t thinking of Rebecca.
Until the slam of the front door ricocheted up the stairs and into her bedroom. “I’m home, Dad!”
Your eyes shot open and you gave yourself a quick second to get lost in Bucky’s gaze before you leaped up in panic. 
You were half expecting him to also worry, to quickly dart out of the room. But instead he carelessly stood up from the bed along with you and combed his hair back with his fingers. 
“Dad! Where are you?” 
Pure terror. The fear of being caught in a compromising position with Bucky by your friend was overwhelming as your hands shook. Rebecca’s footsteps began to sound over the stairs and you closed your eyes, waiting for chaos. 
It was only a couple of seconds after your stomach jumped in frightful anticipation when you felt her presence join you. “Babe, have you— What the fuck are you doing?” 
Your stomach lurched. Slowly squinting an eye open, you saw your friend standing in the doorway looking at you in confusion. You steadily tracked your sight across the room, expecting to see Bucky. To your surprise, he wasn’t there anymore. 
You opened your eyes fully, the fear easing away some though your nerves were still alight with edginess. “I don’t— I don’t know.” 
“Um, okay?” Becca said wearily. “Anyway, have you seen my Dad, I wanted to talk to him before we head to bed.” 
This was a chance, you inwardly thought. To tell your best friend about everything while your friendship could still be repaired. 
But the probability of disclosing your secret and potentially ruining Rebecca’s life won out. “No. I haven’t seen him.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue and shame clawed its way back to the surface. 
Your friend smiled brightly and shrugged. “No problem, I’ll go find him. I’ll be back to work on assignments in a minute.” She exited her room in search of her Dad. 
You crumpled to the bed and hung your head in your hands, exhaling deeply. You’re a shitty person, the voice in your head supplied unhelpfully. 
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After a while, Rebecca had returned to her room and for the rest of the evening, you both worked on your respective assignments; her chattering away happily while you stared at the screen of your laptop blankly, adding nothing to the open document until the two of you decided to call it a night.
Unexpectedly though, instead of getting ready for bed together, your friend showed you to a guest room. 
“Becca,” you laughed. “I thought I’d be staying in your room for the night. You know—with you?” 
“Well, I told my Dad you liked your own space and he set up one of the guest rooms for you. It's no biggie.” She shrugged. 
Right. Because of course you wouldn’t be staying with her when there were an endless amount of spare bedrooms on the first floor alone. 
You cursed yourself in that moment, reliving your protests of spending the midterm break alone because of your need for space. 
“Are you sure?” You tried again, the vulnerability of being by yourself without the buffer of Rebecca taunting you. “We could have a sleepover! Watch movies and stay up late!”
But she just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Girl, I know you are dying for a minute to yourself—to relax and decompress.” Holding your hand, she softly laughed. “I practically begged you to come here and you agreed. You’ve been more kind to me in the minute we met than most of my old friends over the span of the years I knew them. So please, the least I could do is give you a break during the nights.” 
The guilt ate you alive; her selflessness and naturally good heart steadily chipping away at your conscience. Why the hell did she have to be so nice? 
Putting on your best smile, you tried to rid of the nasty voice spitting venom inside your head. You slept with her fucking Dad, you whore — you don’t deserve this. Outwardly, you said, “I don’t deserve this, Becs. It's too much.” A somewhat admittance of the truth; the full story you would take to the grave, if only to keep your friendship intact.
“Oh, hush. Of course you do.” She pushed you away playfully into your new room. “Now go freshen up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” 
Clenching your hands in unexplained nerves, you wished her goodnight while she began to walk down the hall to her own room. “See you tomorrow, Becs.” The door closed with a click and you dropped your forehead against the wood with a loud thud. 
You could do this, you reasoned with yourself. It was only for a couple of days, and as long as you stayed close to Rebecca and was not left alone with her father, you could ignore your inner thoughts — the vile, disgusting voice that simultaneously begged you to to crawl on all fours to him like a desperate bitch and be ashamed of your sins.
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It wasn’t difficult to fall asleep. Exhaustion from the events of a long day and a shower with the most luxurious products you had ever used assisted you with that and you whispered an internal gratitude to the fluffy pillows you laid your head on for helping you escape reality before you closed your eyes. 
However, you were awoken from your deep slumber when the rattle of your bedroom door knob interrupted your dreamless sleep. You had to fight the heaviness of your body as you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a groan before you tried squinting through the darkness to no avail. 
The sudden thought of your friend coming to annoy you after all surprisingly made you crack a smile. “Becs?” you sleepily called out. 
The latch of the door clicked as it steadily creeped open and you rolled your eyes at your friend’s antics. “If you’re trying to scare me then ha ha—very funny, dork.” 
Your sight began to adjust, outlines and shadows soon becoming more clear but still a struggle to make out in the late hour.  
Though there was no response from your friend. Silence shrouded over the room with only your small breaths to be heard. 
You stared at the doorway expectedly, waiting for a response you wouldn’t get. “Becca?” you called out warily once more.
But that time, as the door clicked shut with a deafening loudness, a deep voice — one that definitely did not belong to your friend — answered. “Y’know, you look just as pretty as you did the night we met.” 
Cold dread had every muscle of your body locking up. It became clear then that it wasn’t Rebecca that had entered your room. More so a tall figure, clad in only his underwear and his dog tags.
“M—Mr Barnes?” your lips quivered with panic. “What— What are you doing?” 
Every clink of the metal around his neck haunted you with each step he made closer. You scrambled up towards the headboard, plastering yourself against the wood. 
Pointless when he sat beside you on the bed, bending his knee to lean one leg against your thigh. The feel of his bare skin against yours burned. 
“No need to be afraid, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “You know me, don’t you?” 
You gulped. Sudden dizziness blurred his face to your eyes and the deprivation of your sight made his touch all the more electrifying when he swept your hair to the side and kissed your shoulder. 
A shudder ran down your spine, the strap of your silk nightgown falling down your arm and stripping you of your only defense left against him. 
“Mr Barnes,” you tried again, more pleadingly. 
“What have I said about calling me that, hm? You know my name well enough by now, pretty girl. You’ve screamed it enough.” His tormenting laugh vibrated through you while he still peppered feather light kisses across your skin. 
You begged your body to move, for your hands to push him away and your voice to shout for Rebecca. Alas, you kept to your place, still as stone. 
“You can’t— you can’t be here,” you whispered shakily. 
Bucky smirked. “Oh really? Is this not my house, sweetheart?” Your nipples pebbled against the silk material covering them as his breath cascaded goosebumps over your skin in its trail. “Been tryin’ so hard to restrain myself since I saw you again this mornin’. But I can’t fuckin’ hold back anymore.” 
“You remember me,” you managed to choke out.
Bucky hummed, laving his tongue over the sweat building on your neck. “Like I could ever forget a girl like you.” 
The knot in your stomach tightened, each press of his lips over your body immobilising you further. Bucky knew who you were, from the moment your eyes connected in the foyer. The reality set in then — deep and unsettling and delicious, all at once. 
“I had to act like I didn’t know you, baby. Couldn’t have Rebecca finding out her only friend knows the taste of her Dad’s cock now, could I?” 
You felt sick. Your mind raged in war between a guilty conscience and your own pleasure. To give in would be evil, so horrendously sick and twisted.
A single tear dropped from your watery eyes and slowly rolled down your cheek, the sudden saltiness hitting Bucky’s tongue and making him groan. “Fuck, don’t tease me already, baby.” 
“She’s my friend,” you whimpered. “I can’t do this to her.” 
Bucky looked up, a soft expression on his face. “Oh, darlin’. I love her too, really.” His lip curled up then, a wolfish gleam in his eye. “But I can’t go another minute without touchin’ you.” 
Placing his forehead against yours, his hand traveled up from your thigh, all the way over your stomach until he reached your tits. You squeezed your eyes tightly closed when his forefinger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silk. “Doesn’t this feel good, hm? Doesn’t this feel right?”
Against your will, you released a high pitched keen. “Bucky.”
His chest rumbled in delight, a deep purr in your ear. However, your mind still bartered with itself, unrelenting in its inability to give in. “But what if Becca—?” 
“She doesn’t have to know a damn thing, baby.” Bucky turned his head and bit over the pulse of your neck. “It’ll be our dirty little secret.” 
Your head was filled with clouds, a fog smothering over any rational thought. Especially with the way Bucky began to sneakily slip the other strap of your nightgown down. He was mesmerising in his actions, his fragile touches that made you feel special. 
You so desperately wanted to feel special. 
Just like he made you feel back in the summer. 
The evil voice in your mind hissed at you — dirty, disgusting, whore. The hopeful one became louder — lonely, unloved, tired. 
You were so fucking tired. 
The fight in you left. You were a goner, a sacrificial lamb while you tilted your head back to reveal more of you. The walls you so carefully crafted came crumbling down pathetically. 
Bucky didn’t waste any time taking advantage of that. “There’s my good girl. Let it happen, baby.” 
The moon shone through the window, becoming the only source of light in the darkness and its glow blanketed over the same features as the strobe lights in the club back in summer. 
Fate hadn’t been on your side from the moment it cruelly introduced Becca into your life when it had already manifested your demise with her Dad. So who were you to try and change it?
Letting your body take control over your mind, you turned your head, grabbed Bucky by the back of his neck and crashed your lips to his — finally giving into temptation. His answering moan of shock and arousal made you more daring and you snuck your tongue into his mouth too. 
Bucky ripped away, a string of saliva connected between your lips. “You still wear the same fuckin’ cherry chapstick,” he groaned, before squeezing your breast tightly. “Fuck—go lay your head at the end of the bed for me, sweetheart. Want that shit around my cock.” 
With urgency, you rushed over to the edge of the mattress, lying on your back and making sure your head hung over the bed. Your view was upside down, warped while you watched Bucky stroll towards you with bated breath. 
He stood behind you, all menacing and tall — you had never felt smaller in your life, though you liked the feeling with him. 
The veins on Bucky’s forearm bulged from his skin as he brought his hand to your throat. Lightly, he caressed his thumb over the junction of your neck. “Do you remember how eagerly you sucked my dick last time?” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat, the bob of it transcending under his large hand. “I— I do.” 
He smirked down at you. “You gonna make me proud again, baby?” 
Your eyes glazed over with neediness. “Please—Want to make you proud of me.” 
His bright white teeth gleamed with his predatory smile. “Stick out your tongue for me, darlin’.” 
Doing as he asked, you opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, uncaring to how easily you obeyed his commands. 
“Good job, sweetheart.” Bucky brought his hands up to his underwear and with a swift pull, his black briefs fell to the ground. 
You preened like a cat at the sight of his cock bobbing into your view. The light casting in from the moon glistened over the underside of his dick, the purple head pulsing harshly. 
Bucky pumped his cock slowly twice, a premature pearl of cum gathering at the head. “You ready for me, baby?” 
Nodding your head hungrily up at him, you whined, “Uh-huh.”
Bucky positioned himself closer to you, your head hung between his spread legs. You waited in anticipation for him to inch forward and slide his length down your throat, but instead he tapped the head of his cock against your wet tongue. 
The resounding slap caused you to rub your thighs together in agony, the feel of his heavy weight divine. 
“Aw, babygirl,” Bucky teased. “You missed me that much you can’t help those tingles already, huh?” He tapped his length against you again and his eyes fluttered. “There’s more where that came from.” 
The desperation to wrap your lips around his cock was overbearing and so you sealed your mouth around him, suckling the tip with a refound hunger. 
“Holy fuck.” Bucky’s legs trembled at the shock of your sudden confidence. “Oh, just like that, sweetheart.” 
You swiped your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, moaning rabidly at his salty taste. Bucky’s natural musk was addictive and you tried to shuffle your body closer to take more of his length, but he quickly grabbed your hips to stop you. “Woah—slow down there. Daddy’s the one runnin’ the show tonight, not you.” 
You let go of his cock with a pop. “Please, Daddy.” Your pleas were breathless as you panted for air. “Want all of you—please!” 
Leaning over until his lips brushed yours, Bucky kissed you deeply before murmuring, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, I’ll make sure you take all of me.” 
He stood back up promptly, giving you whiplash in your current state. “Now open that slutty little mouth. Wide.” 
Hardly giving you time to do as he asked, Bucky shoved his entire length down your throat. Your eyes widened as you gagged around him. 
“Shh, baby. You’re okay, relax.” Opposite to his brutal force, he brushed softly over your chin. “You can handle me. You’ve done it before, right?” 
Breathing through your nose calmly was a challenge with his thick cock limiting your intake of oxygen. But you wanted so badly to fulfill Bucky’s wishes. So closing your eyes and willing yourself not to panic, you focused your breaths. 
“There we go.” The pride in his tone was exhilarating. “Knew you could do it, darlin’.”
Bucky kept still for a few more seconds, allowing you to get used to the intrusion of the new position before he began to ease his cock out of your throat and gently push back in. “Yeah, you remember my cock don’t you, sweetheart? Your tight little throat feels so fuckin’ good.” 
Your hands came up to grip the back of his firm thighs to ground yourself. You felt every inch of him glide down until his tip reached your windpipe and you coughed violently, sputtering around him.
“That’s right, baby. Choke on me.” Bucky upped the speed of his pace then and your nails dug deep into his flesh. 
While his actions turned harsh and forceful, your pleasure grew and with your squirming, the skirt of your nightgown began to ride up your body without you realising. 
Bucky did though, almost immediately. You couldn’t see how his eyes snapped towards the bare skin of your thighs and lower stomach and to his pleasant surprise, you weren't wearing any panties. 
The sound of his laughter while his hips continued to pump into you made your nerves spike. 
“My sweet girl,” he cooed short windedly. “You must’ve known I was coming, huh? Not wearing anything under that cute little outfit.”
You squealed, unable to say anything while sucking his cock, though the vibrations of your moans made Bucky’s thrusts falter. 
“Fuck—shit, baby. I almost forgot how good you are at that,” he laughed. His hands traveled tantalising over your stomach until he reached the bottom of your nightgown. “Let Daddy see what you’ve been hidin’ from me.” 
The silk material unpeeled from your skin as Bucky lifted it over your breasts. Your full body was on display for him and you fidgeted bashfully under his scrutiny. Your sight was compromised, your movements were limited and your thoughts were scrambled. 
“Oh, darlin’. You’re a doll, ain’t you?” Bucky’s rough and calloused hands smoothed over your bare skin. He palmed your breasts roughly, just once before inching down to your lower stomach. “Now, you gonna show me what I really wanna see?” 
It didn’t take you a second to spread your legs for him, the cold air hitting your soaked cunt. 
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Open those gorgeous thighs for me, I wanna see how wet my baby girl is.” 
Bucky leaned over your body, pushing his cock even further down your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, but your body soon jolted at the feel of his finger sliding through your folds. 
You screamed around his dick and tapped his thighs for a breather, which he so graciously granted. As soon as he tilted his hips to let his cock fall out of your mouth, you gasped loudly. “Oh my god— Bucky, I can’t. I can’t I can’t, please—” 
Your hoarse voice was cut off when Bucky wrapped his free hand around your throat. “Shut the fuck up and take it.” 
His cock laid against your cheek while he looked into your eyes. He forewent easing you into it and instead forced two of his fingers into your cunt. You were about to cry out until he shoved his cock down your throat again with a sigh. “Guess Daddy’s gonna have to keep you quiet—such a noisy girl.” 
The clink of his dog tags with each thrust mixed with your gurgles around his cock, a mixture of your spit and precum bubbling around your mouth and running messily down your chin. The stretch of his fingers unprepared was painful and yet it blended perfectly into pleasure. “Mmph!” 
“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky choked when he thrusted into your mouth at a particular angle. Taking advantage of his legs twitching erratically, you managed to release his dick and reach further back to his balls. 
Wasting no time, you sucked them into your mouth while his cock slapped against your cheeks, smothering precum all over your face. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping into your pussy. “You filthy fuckin’ whore—you just want all a’me don’t ya?” 
You hummed while playing with balls, using your tongue to tease over his perineum. Bucky was losing his composure fast and the thrill of it made the knot in your stomach tighter. 
But not one to be outdone, he ripped his fingers out of your cunt and slapped your clit, hard. You let go with a pop and squealed his name. “Bucky!” 
You tried closing your legs, the sensation too overwhelming. Though it was useless with his strength as he held your thighs apart to carry on bringing his hand down firmly on your cunt. “I thought you wanted to play dirty, darlin’,” he growled. “Daddy’s just having some fun.” 
Your body jolted with each slap delivered. You took it, even when the pain became too much and you thought you would pass out, until Bucky decided to give you respite. He left your pussy sore and aching as he lifted up away from you. A whine tore from your throat. 
“That's what happens when you don’t do as I say.” You were manhandled up and into Bucky’s arms as he sat down against the headboard. He moved you around without a hint of struggle and placed you on his lap, facing away from him. “Good girls don’t disobey Daddy, do they?” 
“No,” sighed. His hard, thick length stood firm against your ass, his dog tags soothingly cold against your warm back and you whimpered pleadingly while grinding back into him. “Want it in me.” 
Bucky’s laughter vibrated through you. “Yeah, baby? Wanna bounce on Daddy’s cock?” 
“Yes! Please!” you cried. 
Gliding his hands around to your front, he pinched each nipple. “Well, I’m not stoppin’ you. Go ahead.” 
You inhaled deeply, gathering all your strength to lift up on your shaky legs. Using Bucky’s thighs to hold yourself, you tilted your hips up until your heat skimmed over the head of his cock. “O—Oh, oh shit,” you stuttered at the sensation. 
Bucky’s head thumped back against the headboard. “God—I’ve fuckin’ missed that cunt.” 
His enjoyment allowed you the courage to balance on one hand while your other reached down to grip his thick length. A strangled noise rose from Bucky’s throat, but you ignored it and swept his tip through your folds. 
“Look who’s gotten brave, huh?” Bucky laughed breathlessly while he played with your tits. “Not thinkin’ about poor Becs now are you, baby?” 
Before the harsh retort could dig deep and make a home in your conscience, you shook your head and let his cock catch on your clenching hole. “Wanna be filled again.” 
“Then do somethin’ about it, darlin’.” Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder and you both looked down to where your sex rested on his length. Your stomach sucked in with your uneasy breaths and after internally counting down, you dropped your hips. 
“Fuck!” Bucky’s hands gripped your breasts tightly, something to help him through how good the slick glide felt. You did the same, latching on to his meaty thighs. “Shit.”
Your chests rose and fell in tandem, but the sensation of feeling so full made you tighten around his cock. “I need to move, Daddy.” 
His mouth moved over your neck as he spoke, “Go on, babygirl. Milk Daddy’s cock.” 
With his approval, you began to angle your hips up, letting his length slide out of you until the very head rested snug in your hole and then sank down again steadily. Your breath hitched while your head fell back onto his shoulder.  
“Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck—just like that. Keep going for me.” Bucky’s hands smoothed down to your hips and gripped them, helping you move over his cock. 
“You’re so b—big,” you whispered. “Forgot how big you are.” 
“Oh, I know. But you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you?” he cooed. 
“Mhm,” your head bobbed lazily up and down with your motions. “I’m your good girl, right?” 
Bucky grunted and made you bounce faster. “The best, baby. Such a good girl for me.” 
His dick throbbed angrily inside you, its length scraping your walls and stretching you with its girth. The clapping of your thrusts grew louder, more depraved as you lost control from the divine pleasure. Had you been thinking more clearly, you would have been careful about your volume, but all your inhibitions went out the window long ago. 
“Need more,” you slurred. “Wanna cum, but need more Daddy.” 
“Shh—I know what you need, sweetheart.” Bucky slithered his hand down your stomach and to your heat. With your legs spread wide over his, it gave him ample opportunity to snake his fingers over your engorged clit and begin circling them.  
You squeaked, instantly snapping your legs closed around his hand. “Bucky, wait!—”
But he forced your legs open and slapped your clit, making you jump with a shout. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to wait. You asked me for more so you’re getting more, you slut. What happened to wantin’ to make me proud, hm?” 
You sobbed as a tear tracked down your cheek. “I— I do!” 
“So then you’ll take it—won’t you?” Bucky growled against your ear. 
Sniffling, you nodded, panting while bouncing on his cock. “Yes.” 
“Yes, what?” 
You hiccuped. “Yes, D—Daddy.” 
Bucky hummed in approval and began thrusting up to meet your stride. “That’s more like it.” 
You took what he gave you while he fucked up into your pussy. The strain of your muscles was almost unbearable, but you persevered through the pain — to be the center of his attention, to be so utterly wanted felt too compelling to give up. 
His thrusts were harsh, rough enough to have your toes curling and his balls to smack against your skin. All those sensations paired with his ruthless circles on your clit blended to build your impending orgasm. “I’m so close,” you gasped. 
“Me too, babygirl.” Bucky grunted, biting into his plump bottom lip. “Gonna empty my load inside a’you.” 
You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please.” 
Bucky’s hips worked overtime, a ferocious beast taking over in its haze. He brought his free hand up to your cheeks and squished them together. “Who’s Daddy’s little cumslut, huh?” 
“Me,” you cried. “I’m Daddy’s cumslut.” 
“Fuck yeah you are,” he snarled. “And now that I’ve got you back you’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere.” 
You were too dizzy to comprehend the weight behind his words, instead you slammed your hips up and down in time with Bucky’s movements, chasing the tightening in your lower stomach. 
“You ready for me, darlin’?” he asked. 
You swallowed the dryness in your throat. “Uh-huh.”
“Good. Now hold on.” Without waiting for you to reply, he grabbed under your thighs and lifted you. You were held up solely by his arms as he powerfully began to fuck you. 
You became mute, mouth hung open on a continuous silent scream. The feeling was like no other; Bucky’s pure strength and huge length tore you apart, physically and mentally. 
“Gonna,” thrust, “fill,” thrust, “this,” thrust, “gorgeous fuckin’ pussy.” 
Your tongue lolled out of your mouth like a dog, drool dripping down your chin while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were on the verge of cumming. “Close.” You had been reduced to one syllable words. 
“I know, baby. I fuckin’ know—Can feel you,” Bucky gasped. “Let go for me, darlin’.” It was only when the angle of his hips changed and the head of his cock repeatedly nudged against your cervix that the balance of your orgasm tipped over. 
“Hnng—Fuck!” You walls trapped Bucky’s dick in a tight chokehold as your thighs shook in a spasm. He continued to grind up into you, releasing his warm load into your pussy. 
“Bucky!” you keened while your walls fluttered around his length. The rush was unlike any you had experienced before and an errant thought that any consequence was worth it to cum like that again swirled through your mind. “Made me— made me cum so hard,” you slurred.
Your high began to simmer down and you felt like you could regain control over your mind until Bucky’s hand came down onto your clit again. “One more,” he breathed into your ear. “Gimme one fuckin’ more.” 
Your eyes shot open and you shook your head, rapidly. “C—Can’t,” you managed to croak. “Too much.” 
You reached down to try and pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong. “I said I want one more.” Bucky held your arms to your chest then, beginning to rub your clit in fast circles. 
An unusual pressure built up quickly and you panicked. “Bucky—something’s wrong.” 
But he sucked over your neck, easing your worries. “You’re okay. It's okay, baby. Just let it happen, remember?” 
You writhed in his hold, moaning salaciously. “I’m— I’m g—gonna cum again.” The feel of his cock still filling you, his cum seeping out of your whole which each dirty grind he made, the sensation of his tongue against your neck and his tireless fingers was all too much. 
“Cum for Daddy then, darlin’.” A couple of circulations later and you screamed out in unimaginable pleasure. Your stomach swooped and the next you knew, a strong pressure forced Bucky’s cock out of your cunt. A rush of liquid sprayed out of you and covered the entirety of the bedsheets. 
“There we are,” he grinned wickedly. “Exactly what I wanted.” 
It felt like it went on forever. Bucky didn’t let up on his insistent rubbing. But as soon as the last juices squirted out of you, you deflated into his chest, breaths heaving with utter exhaustion. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, body boneless and overexerted. Your body jumped with aftershocks, tiny zings of electricity igniting your nerves. 
Bucky finally slowed his fingers down to a stop on your clit. Your back rose and fell with his pants, each puff of his exhales hitting your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 
“Holy fuck,” he laughed deliriously. “That was—fuck.” 
Internally agreeing, you hummed, incapable of formulating words. Bucky’s arms wrapped around you while he placed a kiss to the back of your head and you enjoyed being surrounded with his warmth and comfort. “You were perfect, babygirl,” he mumbled. “Did so fuckin’ good for me. Made Daddy so proud.” 
A wide smile curled onto your face as your eyes remained closed. You were falling out of consciousness, giving in to sleep fast. 
“Let’s get you comfy.” You didn’t stir when Bucky began to lift up, or when he rearranged your form so he could carry your limp body in his arms. 
Your body bounced with each powerful step he made. Vaguely hearing the room door open, a cold blast of air hit your heated skin and you shivered, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest. 
Your head swam with fuzziness. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes with their heaviness. But you felt as you were delicately placed onto a large, comfortable bed, stacked with pillows and fitted with dry sheets, along with Bucky’s delicious scent that tickled your senses. 
A soft kiss was pressed onto your cheek, a firm hand curling around your waist and just before you could succumb to sleep, you heard his last words. “You get some rest now, sweetheart. We’ve still got a whole week ahead of us.” 
You were sure the mortification would hit you in the morning. Pure regret sinking deeply into your skin and making you feel sick to the core. 
But you also knew now that any chance of quitting your best friend's dad had been lost. Because Bucky was a guilty pleasure, a rush you couldn’t bear to give up — no matter the consequences and no matter who it would inevitably hurt. 
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