#ran out of steam part of the way through | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joeloverture · 3 months

Text

morning cardio | dbf!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dbf!neighbor!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your neighbor and dad's longtime buddy catches you sneaking back home after an underwhelming hook-up. you want more — he provides. warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!neighbor!joel, age gap (23/50), reader has a bad relationship with her father, reader's father is overly strict, reader hooks up with an oc, dirty talk, soft!dom joel, degradation, praise, thigh riding, 1 spank, titty slapping, daddy kink, exhibitionism but nobody sees, almost caught, heavy petting, misogyny for sexiness that joel doesn't actually believe in since he's a sweetheart [no use of y/n] word count: 3.7k a/n: watch me almost exclusively post dbf joel. watch me. also, mind the tags, they've changed slightly since i posted the teaser. this was supposed to be a series. this is no longer the case bc i'm indecisive. sorry.

Mistake number one: your eyes are crusted shut with the mascara you’d forgotten to wipe off.

Mistake number two: the bed you wake up in is not your own.

Mistake number three: sleeping with your neighbor.

Rubbing your mascara-sealed eyes, you blink yourself into consciousness and instantly regret it. There’s a moment of stillness, time stretching as you take in the room underneath the swelling orange sunlight. The window is cracked just enough to give you a glimpse at the world outside — birds chirping, sprinklers spritzing, cars crunching gravel as they pull out of the driveway. Surrounding the narrow, rumpled bed is a graveyard of orphaned socks. A box fan whirrs in the corner. The room had felt much cleaner past midnight when it was only the yellowed street lamp outside shining through the window. Then you spot the digital clock on the cluttered bedside table reads 6:10, ten minutes later than you’d wanted to be awake for, and time returns to its regular pace.

Your heart kicks awake in your chest, veins going cold. You kick the sheets off of your sweaty body, roll out of bed, and stumble two steps before planting your feet on the carpet below. Even that isn’t enough to stir your hookup. Dylan Andrews.

It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Both of you were home for spring break. Both of you had flirted at the block party with each other. He was only decent-looking and mediocre with his hands, but you needed a break from spending another night in your childhood bedroom. What better way to do it than with a dick appointment?

Again. It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Sneaking out underneath the nose of your strict, tough-as-nails dad was the easy part. Sneaking back in? Less easy. And to make matters worse, you were already ten minutes behind.

Shit.

You tiptoe across the room, naked as the day you were born, and stuff your underappreciated lingerie into your backpack. Without even putting your panties or bra on, you hop into your shorts and wrestle with your hoodie. By the time you’re out of Dylan’s room, it’s 6:12.

The difference between your dad and Dylan’s mom? She doesn’t give a shit what side of town Dylan wakes up on or how much alcohol is sloshing around in his system as long as he’s safe. You’re not the first girl to do the walk of shame out of Ms. Andrews' generic McMansion house, and you’re far from the last.

She’s downstairs in front of the coffee maker, still wearing her pajamas and doing a Dollar General crossword when you slip past her kitchen unnoticed. The door clangs shut behind you, and you figure she must see you walking down the cul-de-sac.

Your dad always leaves for work at 6:45 after a freezing cold shower and a steaming cup of black coffee for balance. You can only hope his shower ran a little late and that he isn’t at the dining room table already. Cramming two steps into one, you continue with your beeline down the awakening street.

You’re followed home by the mailboxes and flower beds, the pebbles you kick with every step. You’re almost to the property line, prepared to make a mad dash to your front door when you hear the faint call of your name. You skid to a stop, and turn to face the source: the craftsman-style house next door.

And there he is – Joel Miller, sitting on one of the cushioned chairs of his front porch in nothing but his sleep shorts and a t-shirt, legs spread as wide as the chair can accommodate. There’s a smug, knowing look on his face, one that says I’ve caught you. See how you can get out of this.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been face to face with Joel — Mr. Miller. You’d think you’d see him more often, with him being your dad’s buddy and your neighbor, but it’s been since summer. You’re sure he must be having the time of his life by joining your just got laid parade.

“You’re up awful early,” he calls, beckoning you up the driveway with a come-hither movement of his fingers. Leaving your dignity at the curb, you pad up the yard to his porch, climbing one of the stairs to lean against the gutter that feeds into his shrubbery. Pollen and moss is scattered across the wooden deck, surrounding a package that he hasn’t bothered to pick up yet. His guitar is off to the side, propped up against the doorway of the house. You wonder if he’d been playing when he’d seen you walking by.

Joel’s covered for you before, briefly and sparingly. Taken the fall for the half-empty bottle of fireball in your dresser even though he’d never go within ten feet of that shit, blamed it on himself for accidentally leaving it behind after fixing a wheel that had jumped off track for you. Even though your dad had chewed him out for drinking on the job, he’d still managed to sneak it back to you with the wise words of hiding it in a sock next time. You’d been two months past your twenty-first when that had happened, and maybe Joel had pitied you after realizing how authoritarian his friend was.

You aren’t as sure if he’ll pity you now.

“Needed some fresh air,” you defend lamely, hands hanging limp by your sides.

“Needed some cock?” he corrects, and his bluntness makes you choke. He seems relaxed for the words that just came out of his mouth, fingers drumming on his impossibly large thighs, a playful smirk resting on his lips.

You sputter, “No! Jesus, what the hell–”

“I got eyes, hun. Saw you leave that Andrews kid’s place. Clearly he didn’t stick it to ya that good if you’re still walkin’ steady,” he comments. His head tilts.

“Joel,” you hiss, eyes flitting to your dad’s house next door. He seems to read your mind, his smirk widening.

“Wonder what your pops would think. Bet I have a pretty good idea. His little angel, sneakin’ around and whorin’ herself out.” He clicks his tongue at you. “A damn shame.”

Heat spools low in your stomach and down to your unsatisfied center. You wish you’d worn darker colored shorts instead of the flimsy gray things you have on. There’s no barrier of your panties to stop yourself from leaking all over them, and with the way Joel’s looking at you, eyes dark and sly, you’re wishing there was.

“Can’t even imagine what you’re gettin’ up to at that college ‘a yours. Bet you had five guys inside of ya all at once, and I sure ain’t talkin’ about burgers, hun.” He lounges back in his chair, watching you.

You feel yourself gush. Heat burns in your thighs, and they rub together on instinct, seeking to extinguish that brimming ache between your legs. You bunch your hands in the fabric of your sweatshirt and can’t stop yourself from squirming underneath his gaze. It’s not like you’ve never thought about this, this with him of all people when you’re underneath your covers and your hand finds the warm junction between your thighs. Always unattainable. Always just out of reach.

You whisper again, “Joel,” but this time, it comes out as more of a moan. Humiliation warms your cheeks and chest, forming a different kind of pit in your stomach.

“Hmmmm?” Joel hums at you with a raised brow. He’s casual, indifferent, almost. But then his eyes flicker up and down, stopping at the wet patch smeared across the front of your shorts, the way your thighs press tight, tensing before letting go. “Ah. A little slut shamin’ gets you all riled up, hun?” That tears a whimper from you. He does that stupid come hither motion again, and like a lost dog, you listen. Standing in front of him, you feel completely, utterly exposed.

He adjusts himself in his chair, and you swallow the building lump in your throat when you see his bulge hardening. It sends another zap of heat to your core, and then another, more surprised one when his hand goes up to grab at your tit. Your breath catches as he thumbs one of your hardened nipples. A triumphant noise echoes out of him. “Braless, too?” His other hand goes down to your shorts, playing with the waistband. “Prancin’ around in these short, skimpy things, too. Practically giving the whole neighborhood a free peep show.”

His hand slides lower. Lower. Pans over to the crease of your thigh and then his thumb is planting over your clit, rubbing only once before he pulls away. “Messy pussy. Bet you stained the guys sheets.”

You’re quiet, staring at him, his wicked fucking expression, those hands that look like sin itself. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Ah. Poor baby. All this effort and you didn’t even get to come.” He just looks at you. Unmoving. Not doing a single damn thing to get you there.

“Please, Joel,” you whisper, embarrassed by the gritty need already embedded into your voice when he’s hardly even touched you.

And he’s still wearing that wolfish look, that tainted-with-intention gleam in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what you do want when he asks, “What? What do you want?” He licks his lips, a fleeting moment.

You look over your shoulder, at the rising street. Anyone could have their windows cracked. Anyone could hear you confess on this porch. Still, you murmur, “I… I want you to make me come, Joel.” Your voice shivers a little bit along with the stroke of wind that wisps against the backs of your thighs.

His brows raise together, now. His head tips forward. “What was that? A little louder. You know, my ears really ain’t the sharpest these days…”

Fucking bastard.

“I want,” you say again, fighting to stop your voice from wavering, to keep it not too loud but not too quiet. “you to make me come.”

Joel sucks on his teeth for a second. “Ohhh. Now I don’t think that’s really fair, hun.” He gives you a mockingly sad look.

“Why?” you ask, and you know you sound as whiny as a petulant child. But he’d been correct earlier. You put in all of this effort, sneaking out for a thrilling night that had turned into something more like two sweaty bodies moving together and only one of them feeling good from it. You want to feel good. You’re tired of looking at the right and the wrong. Joel’s sitting in front of you, his thumb still smelling like your arousal; that’s what’s right.

“You’re out here breakin’ all the rules. Shouldn’t be rewarding you for that, sweetheart. Besides, it’s a little fucked up, dontcha think? Makin’ you come all over me while your pops, my buddy, is none the wiser gettin’ ready for work next door?” His vulgarity only weakens you even more, pussy clenching and begging to be filled. You’re about to protest again when he cuts in, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help ya out.”

Your heart pedals in your chest, eager and wanting. But Joel, instead of getting up and elbowing you inside like you expect, stays right where he is. He pats one of his splayed thighs, the grin on his face only widening. Your face contorts. Joel hears your question before you ask.

“What? Never humped someone’s leg before? With how much of a bitch in heat you’re actin’ right now, I’m surprised.” You can feel the shock on your face plain as day. Joel jerks his head down to his thigh, egging you on. “Better hurry up if you want my help, sweetheart. Pretty sure your dad’s about to get goin’, and I sure don’t have all day, either.”

The rapidly shrinking part of yourself that isn’t consumed with desire tells you to take a step back. That anyone, God forbid, even the Adlers across the street could witness this. Talk about a free peep show.

You think of the alternative: sneaking back into your house with a hope and a prayer that your dad won’t find you, backpack over your shoulder and shoes on, as you climb the stairs back to your bedroom. Open up your Joel-advised dresser drawer of things your dad says you shouldn’t have and pull out your vibrator. Do the same old hassle of a routine, desperately trying to make yourself come. Reach an unfulfilling peak.

Or… take what Joel’s offering you. Risks and all.

You take a tentative step forward, glaring at Joel when he chuckles because of your hesitance, and plop yourself down on his thigh. The pressure against your clit immediately pulls a whimper from you. His big hands fix themselves on your hips, holding tight, but not too tight as to hold you captive against him. There’s still the faint existence of the Joel you’ve always known, considerate and sweet and all southern gentleman, that exists behind the guise of his dominance.

You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, breathing heavy against him as you get a slow start to grinding your hips on his thigh. Although your movements are tentative, uncertain in nature, your head is already going fuzzy.

“Bet you’re only this wet cause that boy already put a new load in your dishwasher.” You scoff at him in disbelief — both at how much more wet it gets you, and how foul his words are. He chooses then to jerk you forward by the hips. You cry out as your pussy drags along the thick expanse of his thigh, clit catching on the bunched up fabric of your rumpled shorts.

“Zip it, you fuckin’ hussy. Ain’t a damn soul in this neighborhood that wants to wake up to you sobbin’ while gettin’ off on this thigh.” One of his hands drifts back to squeeze at the flesh of your ass. You hear the spank before you feel it, a sting that echoes and sticks right between your legs. He’s effortlessly strung a barbed wire of humiliation around your body. The lack of power makes your thighs clamp down around his, and you can’t tell if you crave more of it or despise it.

Unable to decide which, you loudly, exaggeratedly moan into his ear, still rocking down on his lap. It resounds through the neighborhood, the springboard roofs ricocheting you coquettish noises down the street and through the flowerbeds. A spooked crow lifts off of the power lines behind you, and you hear it squawk as its wings beat and carry it away.

Joel cocks his head at you, brow raised. “So it’s not just your legs that have a problem stayin’ shut. It’s your nasty mouth, too.” His hands migrate up your sides to your tits, which jostle with every flighty movement across his thigh. Before you know what he’s doing, he tweezes at your nipples in a way that makes you melt into him, forehead falling flat against his neck. And then he lands a hard smack across your chest, pleasure with a bite. Your hips jolt. “Behave for daddy before I make you walk next door draggin’ a snail trail behind ya.”

You know he doesn’t mean your real dad. A new rush of heat settles in your stomach, tightening your cunt from an ache to an insatiable thrumming that only Joel can solve. “Fuck,” you almost shout, but end up muffling into his skin with an open-mouthed kiss. He sighs, adjusting under you. The change in angle on your clit makes you whimper, especially when you feel his hardened length smushed against the outside of your thigh.

Your hand goes down to grip it, to participate in the push and pull, the cat and mouse, but he shakes his head, pulling it out of the way. He holds you by the small of your back, urging you to keep rubbing on him. “You’re lucky I’m even givin’ you my thigh,” he spits. “Ain’t gonna let you play chutes and ladders tryna make me come when I know damn well where that hand was last night.”

“Daddy,” you pout at him, lower lip jutting out.

He only shakes his head. “Don’t start.”

Whining in agitation, you manage to school yourself into behaving like he’d told you to. Every grind of your hips welcomes pleasure, beckons it, activates the porch light inside of you that invites it inside. You go limp against Joel as he guides you back and forth, and even limper when he tightens the muscle underneath your soaking core. Your hands anchor themselves on his broad shoulders, nails carving into his skin through the flimsy material of his shirt. He hisses underneath you, a break in his seemingly titanium resolve. You feel yourself getting closer, heat wreathing around your stomach, cunt clenching.

In your house, the foyer light flickers on.

Your hips stall over Joel’s as you see your dad’s backlit silhouette moving around in the foyer. Likely sliding on his shoes, patting his pockets for his wallet and his work phone…. You have two minutes at best.

Joel’s eyes follow your distracted line of vision. His amused chuckle warms the back of your neck. “Oughta hurry up if you don’t wanna get caught. Your old man would be in for a rude awakening, headin’ to work and finding his precious little girl fuckin’ my leg like a whore,” he murmurs.

He bounces his leg underneath you, and you bite back the needy cry that threatens to slip out. It feels so good, too good for you to think about anything other than the haze of arousal and pleasure that hovers over your head like a perpetual fog. You return to grinding down on him, hips pumping with a greater, renewed speed. “Attagirl,” Joel croons at you, and the hand at the small of your back presses harder, pushing you up and down his thigh.

Short, strained breaths of yours meet the morning air, eyes pinned on the rectangular window. It’s a golden-washed reminder of how wrong this is. Your dad would blow a gasket, see red, breathe fire at you if he knew exactly what was happening just a few feet away from his front yard.

But you forget all about that when Joel’s calloused fingers cup your chin, nudging you to look at him. His eyes are all pupil, darkened with something like starvation, something like want. “Don’t look at him. Look at me,” he coaxes, and he bounces his thigh again.

You’re close, you can feel it. He can feel it, too, in the way that your thighs fasten around his, your cunt rocking on him as your fervor makes the whole front porch shake and shudder. Tossing your hips back and forth, you wanted it, but now? Now you need it. Your stomach tightens, your legs shivering below you as your cunt gushes all over both of your shorts. “That’s it, baby, come on me like you were beggin’ to. ‘S alright, nice and easy for daddy, mhm?” He tenses his thigh one final time, and you lurch over that edge. “Gooood girl,” he hums as your cunt flutters against his leg. “You’re a daredevil, aren’t you?” he asks, jerking his head toward your house.

You figure you must be, after what you just did.

You’d planned on staying there, riding it out and trembling against his warm chest. But the garage cranks open. You jolt off of Joel’s lap, damn near teleporting across the porch with how fast you move. Joel smirks at you, crossing his unfucked leg over his freshly fucked one, where you’d rubbed your cum all over his skin until it’d glistened. The sight warms your stomach all over again, but it doesn’t last – nerves spasm in your ribcage as your dad ducks out into the driveway.

You fumble with your shorts, pulling them down and crossing your hands in front of the obvious stain on the gray fabric. Your dad squints across the yard, cupping a hand over his eyes. “Miller?” He calls your name shortly after, and you straighten. “You’re up early, kiddo.”

You open your mouth, on the precipice of a lie that you know won’t be good. It’ll come out unsteady, dishonest, and uneven.

Joel points at the package at the foot of his doorstep. “My toolbox got sent to yours,” he explains. “Damn postal. ‘Bout as good as the Boston Post Road these days. But your kid’s got me covered. Raised her right.”

For the second time, Joel Miller covers for you. You have no idea where this leaves you, standing under your dad’s scrutinizing gaze. With your cum cooling and sticking to your folds the same way it’s cooling and sticking to his leg, Joel knows your secret. And he’s keeping it.

Your dad only gives a shallow nod, looking between the two of you. “Well,” he hooks a hand back at his truck. “I gotta head off to work.” He shifts on his feet, this time pointing to you. “And you head back inside, kiddo. Too early for you to be up and movin’.” Of course it is.

You stare at the ground, the pollen and stray leaves below your feet. Finally, you settle on a nod. Shallow and halfhearted, much like his. Your dad, satisfied, retreats back into the garage. You hear the truck engine come to life.

“You heard the man,” Joel says. You tighten your fists, moving to step away, but the way Joel’s eyes glimmer has you loitering. He lowers his voice. “See you soon, daredevil.”

That damned nickname. “How do you know I’ll be back?” you retort under your breath.

He shrugs. “I’m sure there’ll be more… ‘packages’.”

You blame the heat in your body on the rising sun, sweat clinging to the back of your neck as you plod off through the front yard. There’s only one thought in your head as your dad pulls out and you close the garage. Mr. Miller can’t happen again.

Mistake number four: thinking you’re telling the truth.

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic

2K notes · View notes

pseudowho · 5 months

Text

Yet Another Nanami Kento Sex Pollen Fic, Part Two

The reader encounters an aphrodisiac diffusing Curse...which she brings home to Nanami Kento.

Read Part 1 first HERE!

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

When you had looked up through the billowing steam of your shower, and seen Kento's broad figure filling the doorway, your conscious thought had juddered to a halt, and you became all compulsion and instinct.

Nanami Kento stood, his weight shifted slightly forward on one leg, as one hand reached up to grab the doorframe, and the other squeezed his cock, which was hardening rapidly under his hand. He was exactly as you had left him; shirt splayed open with all the buttons ripped off, and trousers shunted down at the front, clinging to the jut of his hipbones, trail of honey-coloured hair pathing the way to his hand, which was stroking himself so keenly.

I suppose he didn't think to leave my clothes alone, you thought, but...I owe him.

You met Kento's eyes and tried to read him as your mind stuttered, and your heart leapt into your mouth as Kento crossed the room in three long strides. As you grasped the shower door and began to open it, the glass banged and rattled as Kento's shaking hand gripped it and slammed it closed.

"...Kento? It's okay, I know how it feels. Come on, I can he--"

"No," he spat. Kento held the door closed, but his hand was quaking, at war with itself. You felt your heart pound as noticed his other hand, gripping his throbbing length, the tip now an angry red-purple.

"I don't want to hurt you," Kento forced, "This is...different. I could stop you, but you...you couldn't stop me...if you wanted to."

Your heart clenched for him. You knew the desperate need he was experiencing, and he had helped you. But, as you took him in, ostensibly huge, all raised planes of muscle over strong bones, you knew he was right. But still--

"I trust you, Kento. I know you wouldn't hurt me." Kento looked at you darkly, hungry and wolfish, teeth bared.

"I wouldn't be so sure," he pressed, and the way his eyes lingered on your body, naked breasts heaving and wet under the steam, Kento thought of breaking you underneath him, the effects of the pollen having made your wellbeing completely second to his need, he felt like he'd surely die unless he used your body to relieve his own.

Forcing himself to look away from you as you pressed your hands against the glass, looking at him with such tender concern that he could have wept, Kento felt every thread of his nervous system on fire.

With a sinking nausea as Kento felt this...this...substance working through his synapses, his body and brain were getting hotter and hotter and his grasp on rational thought and decision-making were reducing. His brain was no longer working. He panted, hand letting go of his cock to run through his hair. Kento shivered at how erotic his simple touches to himself felt. After tugging his hair sharply at the roots, nearly groaning aloud with the pleasure, Kento's fingers trailed to his lips, ducking two fingers past them to suck on his own fingertips. He moaned around them, and you watched him, fascinated and terrified at how animalistic Kento had become.

His skin felt too tight, every sense piqued, and his hand on the shower door shook harder as he heard you switch the water off; as if detached from the rest of his body, this hand squeezed the door closed, but his other hand pressed, with his forehead, feverishly against the glass as he stared you down. Looking into his eyes, you saw less and less Kento there as he struggled to contain himself. Kento breathed out shakily.

"I'm going to open the door," he spoke, each word pained and deliberate, "and you're going to run, and lock yourself in our room. Are you ready?" You stared at Kento, speechless.

"Are you ready?" he barked and you jolted, nodding frantically. His white knuckled hand swung the door open and you leapt past him, rounding the corner as you ran to your bedroom, hearing quick footsteps approaching behind you and you got inside the room, slammed the door and locked it--

A fist banged on the outside of the door as Kento roared, and you fell back onto the bed, still drenched, hair dripping down your back (or is it cold sweat?). You heard footsteps, flat, heavy and pacing.

Kento ran his fingernails up and down the back of his head and neck, pacing furiously, ashamed of how quickly he nearly hunted you down after he had let you out of the shower. Reaching down, lifting his legs one by one, he wrenched his slippers off and lobbed them across the room where they bounced meekly off the high windows. Throwing his shirt and trousers to the sofa, he sat hard on the floor with his back to your door, face in his hands as he genuinely worried he may die from the heat and desire pooling in his stomach and coiling outwards through him.

Kento's cock sat, heavy and throbbing against his belly, pressed upwards by the waistband of his boxers. The hair on his stomach was wet with pre-cum. Pushing his boxers fully down, with one arm draped over his eyes, Kento began to stroke himself, squeezing hard, desperate and chasing relief.

She felt better after she came, he thought, panting as his hand stroked fast, wet strokes from tip to base, she felt better, you will too. Kento continued to work on himself, feeling tears prick in his eyes and growling when he felt absolutely no relief.

On the other side of the door, you tentatively knocked. "Kento?" You heard a low groan in response. "Look, I...I know you're trying to keep me safe, which I love, but...I know you're going to need something other than your own hand."

Silence. You continued, "So, you can come in here and I promise I can take it, or we can call Shoko?"

"We are absolutely not calling Shoko about this," Kento forced, low and angry. Your lower belly twisted, and you knew you needed to force Kento's hand. He needed this. He needed you.

"Or, I could just..." you started, sounding braver than you felt, leaning your back against the wall beside the door, "touch myself, and you can cum in your hand to the thought of me."

Kento was revealing in his silence. You continued, moaning softly as your fingers began to rub small circles around your clit, and you heard a heavy weight shift against the door. "I'm wet," you gasped softly, "you'd barely need to do anything, just hold me down and sink straight into me." Kento growled on the other side of the door.

"Stop it," he barked, "I'm warning you."

"I can take it," you pressed, continuing to pleasure yourself, moaning sweetly, folds wet and glistening now, "Please come and fuck me...daddy."

The door flew inwards off its hinges with a bang, wood splintered, and you squealed as Kento reached around the doorway and gripped you hard by the throat. Using his other hand to strip his boxers completely away, he pulled you nose to nose by the throat, your tiptoes scraping against the floor as you gasped, lightheaded.

"You can take it, can you?" he rumbled, pupils blown with lust, his cock hard against your belly. Pressing a hard kiss, all teeth and tongue, to your mouth, he threw you onto your bed where you bounced, face down, "Let's see, shall we?"

You squealed again as Kento grabbed you by the waist and threw you up the bed. Lifting your face from the pillows, you moved to turn to Kento, "I'm sorry, I just--" You were cut off with a cry as Kento grabbed your hair by the roots, forcing your face forwards. Kento began to position you like a mannequin, pressing your tummy down and your arse up, and finally grabbing both of your hands where he made your fingers clasp to the headboard of the bed. Stretched and quaking, you felt Kento's hands grip you firmly by the hips.

"Hold onto something," he growled, before bottoming out inside your dripping pussy in one sharp thrust. You cried out, hips trying to scoot forwards up the bed as you adjusted to his size, seeming bigger than usual with how thick and aroused the pollen had made him; Kento slapped the side of your thigh hard and you squeaked, the pleasure sharp and bitter.

Kento slapped your sex back onto his cock one, two, three times and came with a shout, the orgasm bursting along his skin, his moaning a ragged, injured sound. Time stood still as he poured cum into you, feeling it drip down his balls and your thighs, carrying on and on until his moans turned to low pants, continuing to thrust slowly into you.

Kento waited for the desperate clawing at the back of his neck, the itching at the base of his brain, to pass...his stomach swooped, like falling at the start of a dream, to recognise that he felt no better. Furious, devastated, Kento grasped you by the hair to pull you upright, his chest feeling like a brick wall against your back, as his cock remained throbbing and hard inside you. Still holding you by the hair, he tipped your head sideways, biting deeply into the soft skin above your pulse point.

Kento felt sickly delighted to feel you shaking in his arms, and thrust upwards into you, cock gliding effortlessly along the tight wet slick of your pussy. His tongue and teeth ghosted along the shell of your ear, and he whispered low and dangerous, as he splayed his huge, fine-boned hand across your lower belly.

"How deep am I?" He thrust again, harder, letting go of your hair as your head fell back against his shoulder. You squeaked as his knees batted yours aside, forcing you to fall deeper around his lap. "Can I get any deeper?" His freed hand gripped the side of your hips, pressing you down onto him. You gasped, mewling and writhing as you felt his cock bully against your cervix, and as he pressed your belly inwards and downwards, you twisted, squeaking as you saw stars, both hands reaching back to clasp desperately round the back of Kento's neck.

Kento buried his nose into you, sniffing deeply. "Are you ovulating?" he intoned, continuing his relentless assault on your limp body as he lifted you, pressing you up and down slowly and deliberately, stretching you, as you felt that if he went any deeper he'd surely thrust past your cervix and into your womb. You almost sobbed, voice muffling as his hand left your hips and clasped over your lower face, shushing you, almost tenderly.

"I know you are...I can smell it," he groaned, slamming you down hard, enjoying your hot little breaths behind his huge hand, "It's...delicious." You wanted to tell him how close to finishing you were, but were totally voiceless with his hand over your mouth. Your pussy fluttered tellingly around him, and Kento chuckled.

"Don't worry, you'll get your turn. Shit, this stuff is...it's..." Kento felt the urgent need to orgasm begin to burn through him again, and he rumbled his displeasure, throwing you back onto the bed and flipping you, overwhelmed by the urge to breed you, and keep you home so he could fuck you all day if he wanted to.

Pressing your knees up to your chest, your face burned with pleasure and pain as Kento slammed into you again, his hips snapping wetly against yours at a relentless pace. He grabbed your hands and brought them around your knees, forcing you to hold your legs in place as he lifted your arse off the bed, dragging your pussy back and forth along his cock on time with his thrusts.

A dam broke inside you, feeling Kento so deeply that it felt like he owned your whole body, and you came with a sob, wounded by the pleasure as you trembled, completely used as Kento continued to drag himself in and out of you, soft splatters of his and your cum dripping into the bed every time he thrust into you.

Kento chased his high, needing release or he'd surely perish, and he revelled in the tight squeeze of your plush walls around him, grunting and moaning unashamedly as you squirmed, babbling his name, which could be another language as far as Kento was concerned as his brain sank into the primal urge to keep cumming inside you until you were round and beautiful, full of him. The thought spurred him on, and he leaned over you, caging you in with his arms, your thighs crunched against your abdomen, and Kento took your nipple between his teeth, whining around you.

You grasped the back of his head, pressing it into your breast, feeling his pubic bone slam against your clit, your second orgasm hypersensitive and painful, your hands shaking as they tugged Kento's hair, your lips trembling with easy praise for him.

Kento tasted the bitter tang of blood and metal along the sides of his tongue as he came again, his skin electric, and dying stars in his eyes, and growled a bestial growl of relief as he began to feel the itching desire ebb away, finally satiated.

Pulling out of you, he looked down at the mess between your legs, puffy folds covered in a pinkish mix of blood and semen, and Kento groaned into his hand.

"I'm so...I'm so sorry," he panted, shaking and exhausted, reaching up to stroke your forehead, pulling your arm from over your face. You smiled weakly at him, bruised, aching and completely spent.

"It's okay," you reassured him, stroking his abs softly, in small circles, "but we really should get rid of those clothes. And have a bath." Kento nodded, swiping his sweaty hair back off his head. He glanced behind him, blushing faintly.

"And...fix that door."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Would it have been sexier if he'd kept the slippers on? Uncertain.

2K notes · View notes

mauvecherie-writes · 3 months

Text

the morning after: l.hamilton

pairing: lewis hamilton x black!f!reader.

summary: scenes after a wild night.

warning: 18+ mdni, nsfw, no structural plot, sexual scenes, dirty talk.

note: i started this on his birthday, finished this yesterday lol so this is set around his birthday. flashbacks in italics.

w.c: 1.19k

tags: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @hersinsarescarlet @emjayewrites @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @melodicheauxxlovesfood @felicity-x0 @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly

You were sore.

You were so, so sore.

A groan left you as you tried to stretch your limbs. The little light coming into the room caused your eyes to squint as you took in the surroundings.

This wasn’t your hotel room.

The first flash of last night was projected within your mind.

Fuck. Fuuuucccckkkk.

The smell of his cologne wrapped around you - reminding you of whose room you were currently in and who it was you spent the night with. You sat up straight and clasped the sheet close to your naked chest. You were finally able to get a hold of your bearings.

Clothes.

Shoes.

Bottles and glasses.

Furniture.

All disheveled from your feverish tryst.

You drunkenly giggled against his lips as you stumbled further into the room. The sounds of the empty champagne bottle rolling on the floor from being kicked by your shuffling feet.

“Sshh.” You placed your finger against his lips as his hands explored the length of your back. “You gotta be quiet.”

“No one is gonna hear you baby, you can be as loud as you want.” He mumbled as he trailed kisses down the curve of your neck as he hooked his fingers beneath the straps of your top.

You chewed on your bottom lip as the memories of the previous night beseech you. You could feel the phantom of Lewis’s touch on your body the more you woke up.

One thing was for certain, you needed to leave his room.

The chilly wind drifting into the room from the parted window nipped at your skin as you jumped out of the bed. As you rushed around the room to pick up your belongings, you felt the residing slickness in between your thighs.

He stroked your clit faster, pressing onto your bud firmer with each stroke. Your body fell into his, Lewis’s arm secured around your body, pressing your back into his chest with his hand on your chest, rolling your nipple in between his fingers. He enjoyed the way your body shook from the pleasure that he was drawing from it.

Then you tried to grab his hand to stop him. He chuckled against your ear. “Don’t try and fight it baby.” He bit on your earlobe. “Just let it happen.”

The first orgasm had rocked your body and he had played you so beautifully. You had tried to give back - it had been his birthday after all - but he wouldn’t allow it. You were his for the night to enjoy.

You zipped up your jeans and haphazardly threw your top back on but your zip was broken. You remember Lewis pushing your top past your hips.

Shit.

And your room was on the other side of the resort too. A good five minute walk - even less if you ran. But you couldn’t walk through the resort like this.

You grabbed his shirt from the floor and put it on and shoved your top into your bag.

The humming of the shower finally stopped.

You halted your actions as you heard Lewis’s movements within the bathroom and soon enough, the door opened. With steam emerging from behind him, he walked out.

You loved the way the towel was wrapped and sitting low on his waist. Skin glistening from the dampness - somehow making his tattoos pop out even more. The marks from your mouth and nails still wore on his skin and the sight made you lick your lips.

“Leaving so soon?” He smirked at you. You were by the door with your braids in a ponytail, bag and shoes in hand with his t-shirt from the previous night on.

“Umm.” You sounded as you tried to recollect your thoughts. “Last night, you told me that you had something planned with your boys. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“They’re plans for me. They can wait until I’m ready.” He walked towards you and you couldn’t help but let your hands fall beside you.

“Oh.” You mumbled, your cheeks warming slightly causing him to chuckle. Lewis’s hands came to your waist and pulled you closer. His touch triggered another memory.

Lewis was above you with his hands on your waist as he thrusted into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your back arched off the bed.

“Fuck you’re so deep.” You gasped as you felt every inch of his thickness slide deep inside and touch parts of yourself that you could never reach. He moved so that your leg was on his shoulder and he was hovering above you. The position shift caused you to lose your breath and immediately tremble as he touched your sweetest spot.

“There it is. That’s the spot huh?” His dark chuckle rang in your ear.

Lewis saying your name snapped you back to reality. The way that he was staring down at you made you slightly embarrassed about where your thoughts had been. And from the look in his eyes, it was like he knew it too.

“What are your plans later?” He asked you as his finger traced your jawline. You licked your lips, taking a deep breath as if bracing yourself to gaze into his deep brown eyes.

“Nothing. Me and the girls were just going to chill in the lounge bar by the pool.” You whispered softly as he continued to caress you.

“Good. I’ll meet up with you there then go for dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah.” His lip curled to the side. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t take you to dinner?”

“The kind of man who fucks me on every surface of his hotel room until his cum is dripping down my thighs.” The vulgarity of your words caused his breath to hitch in his throat. Lewis briefly closed his eyes as if he was remembering the way that he had bent you over the couch in the living room area.

Because you remembered that.

“Let me be a good man to you and take you to dinner.”

“Fine.” You giggled at the strangled tone in his voice. You reached forward to place a kiss on his cheek but Lewis turned his head so his lips brushed over yours. He brushed his nose against yours and you took that as the go ahead. So you gently pressed your lips against his but the soft kiss turned heated.

You softly whimpered into his mouth when his one hand went to the back of your neck and pulled you closer. The sound of your moan spurred him on, leading him to press you into the door. You felt every inch of his rigged body down to his hardening dick against your abdomen.

Your moment was only interrupted by the loud ringing of an alarm. You pulled away from the kiss with a heavy pant of your chest.

“I have to go.” You whispered. “ I need a shower.”

“You could have taken one here.”

“I can’t be around you. I can’t think straight.” Lewis chuckled before he moved away from you.

“Go, I’ll see you at dinner. We’ll continue with this later.”

#mauvecherie writes #the morning after fic #lewis hamilton x black reader #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #sir lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction #sir lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lh

932 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 8 months

Text

‧ ₊˚✧ Do Not Weep Hydro Dragon ‧ ₊˚✧

Summary: There's a crack in Neuvillette's heart that bares your name. He sheds a tear for you each day. Yet once you return to Fontaine with your fiance. The cracks and tears begin to grow.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, arranged marriages, affairs.

Author's note: I'm sorry 😭💔😭💔

There've been rumors circling around Fontaine. Ghostly whispers floating between coral-tainted lips and fervid ears. The rumors spoke a bittersweet name. One Neuvillate had long since buried. At first, the notion of your return had felt like a bad dream. like the roar of a tsunami before it crashes on shore. Terrifying yet, ultimately unreal. He'd summed the rumors up to some traveler who bore your mien. To an erroneous article by the steam bird. Anything. anything at all.

Anything that wasn't you.

It wasn't until after a particularly grueling trial that he'd witnessed the truth behind these rumors. There you were in all you're glory. Gleaming akin to the finest pearls laying dormant in the primordial sea. Your expression, when he could catch it, was gleeful, delighted, A drastic contrast to his last unfortunate memory of you. His eyes follow the delicate movement of your gloved hand as it stifles a cheery giggle pouring from your cherry lips. It's only after noting your delight that he becomes conscious of the gentleman accompanying you. A ginger with bloodthirsty eyes and a soul that reeks of carnage.

A splash of heat rolls down Neuvillet's cheek. Right before a splash of cold splatters across his temples. his attention narrows on the sky, as the

clouds begin to weep. What once was a peaceful sunny day shatters like a wine glass on porcelain tiles. Humidity threads through the air robbing him of his breath.

It's raining.

How fitting, Neuvillette thinks as he watches you and your companion run to find shelter.

Neuvillette recalls your smile almost as clearly as he recalls your pulse under his teeth. The taste of your flesh as his teeth left bloody love bites in every wrong place. He remembers saying I love you, albeit there was more to it than that. It had started with I love you and ended with every truth he'd forgotten how to tell. He had shed his human masquerade, in the hope of finding true love. You had screamed that night. You had screamed every night since.

Neuvillette thumbs through his memories. As the rain outside grows more ferocious. He remembers you standing by the sea, he remembers you telling him the phobias that ran deeper than blood.

You hadn't been from Fontaine, not originally. A fallen gear from an ancient automaton whose kin resided across the sea.

You'd been raised in the ways of the hydro court. Even if 'raised; was too generous a word. Morphed or sculpted may have been more appropriate synonyms. You grew up clawing at your own skin, trying to find who was underneath the layers of mindless expectations. You'd been raised as a lady and grew into a harrowing beast that feasted on the stars.

Yet even creatures of unparalleled strength had their weaknesses. Even ever-blessed vision wielders bore a certain Achilles heal.

Yours so happened to be your incompatibility with your foster nation. Or rather with the water itself.

When people asked, as some had tended to do. You'd weaved them tales about serrated Pisces and dorsal-finned leviathans with open maws awaiting their prey. You don't tell them about the vastness, the dark blue landscape that feels all too wide and all too endless. You don't tell them about the things you swore you've seen lurking beneath the infinite waters of Fontaine. And you most certainly leave out the parts about the creature who engraved fear upon your bones many moons ago before you even knew how to walk.

Neuvillette remembers your eagerness to leave. That had, ultimately, been your bonding point. He'd been an outcast. The supreme justice was ever only relevant when he upheld the law. And whilst Supreme Justice Neuvillette was revered and adored by all. Plain Neuvillette was nothing more than a shadow of evaporated water that hunted the streets of Fontaine. You had never wanted to mingle with the people. Keeping everyone at arm's length. Maybe it was fate that had brought two lonely souls together all those moons ago. Maybe it was something else.

He had loved you. He swears it on the Hydro archon ( or any other Archon who lacks Furina's fickleness) He'd tried to show you that the waters of Fontaine meant you no harm. He'd even shown you his true form, the utmost assurance. Maybe that's why you fled. Maybe that's why you'd left him heartbroken one morning when the sun didn't rise.

It had rained that day. As well as the following days. Until the surrounding islands ceased to exist.

You'd left him hollow and alone.

Yet your return made the cracks in his heart fester.

Neuvillette had taken it upon himself to cloak you in his watchful gaze.

He'd come to notice how you and that dreadful Fatui Harbinger you'd come to associate yourself with. Rather liked taking long walks

where the sea kissed the shore. He'd also noticed a ring of Snezhnaya Alexandrite perpetually wrapped around your finger.

Neuvillette's footsteps are heavy as they collide with the concrete. He's closer today. So close he can practically smell the scent of citrus and eucalyptus. If he reached out with his powers he could surely touch you, feel the warmth of your body bleeding into him, just like old times. He misses you, yet a part of him pities your return. Neuvillette's grey eyes follow your desolate gaze. It rips open one too many wistful wounds.

"So then Teucer said...Hey darling are you listening?"

Childe's eyes follow your frozen glare, tracing your line of sight straight to the menacing waters that refuse to part from your side. You hear your lover mumble a faint 'right'. Before you feel his silk-clad fingers dance across the back of your neck. Flirting with the chilling fear that rolls off you in waves. You pin your body to him, finding comfort in the familiar scent of his cologne as you bury your head in his neck.

"I'm truly sorry for this darling" Sincerity rolls off his tongue, percolating into the tender kiss he presses to your temple. "I've just been feeling...down lately. Like this inexhaustible sadness is going to swallow me whole. Fontaine was the only place I could convince the Tsaritsa to transfer me for a short while. I just, I need a break from it all." You answer him in a low melodic hum. You get it, truly you do. Sadness is a poison, acidic in nature. It engulfs one's soul. Melting away their purpose, their resolve. Eating away until it reaches their hearts, their desires. It leaves behind empty shells and broken pieces too fragile to ever fully mend.

Who better than you to understand the pains of being soulless, bereft? A mere shell awaiting a miracle that had died long ago.

There's a voice, carved from velvet and silk. It rolls across you like a tidal wave. Potent yet soft. It whispers your name and calls out in hopes of mending broken hearts. You turn to look behind you. All you see is the endless sea.

It's only on the fourth day of your visit that Neuvillette permits you to see him. Actually, see him. It's no longer his ghost that haunts you nor the empty waves that he commands beckoning you by name. It's him, really him. His glare is relentless as he leaves a prolonged kiss on your knuckles. You're in the middle of a conversation with that dreaded harbinger. Something about his older sister wishing to take to shopping upon your return to Snezhnaya.

"My darling it's been all too long, how fare thee my-"

He's cut short, how rude. Yet far be it from him to expect proper mannerisms from the Fatui.

"Hey, I'm having a conversation with my betrothed. Don't interrupt." Childe's eyes morph into his own glare. One which promises blood and violence. The fates of those caught on the other end of said glare are never pleasant.

"As the chief justice of Fontaine, I have to right to interrupt any conversation I see fit."

Despite yourself, you let out a laugh. Choke the fear down with a cup of Fonta and ask Neuvillette to join the two of you. It's the nostalgia talking really. Some remnants of the past collide with the present causing your heart to adopt an unsteady rhythm.

It's after that event that Neuvillet permits his presence to be seen by you and your "lover". He's always a mere breath away, following under the guise of being a gracious "tour guide". But tour guides do not wrap their arms around a lady's waist when her fiance isn't looking. Nor do they sneak kisses behind open parasols. You haven't protested about any of this. Maybe your fear of the hydro dragon has perished, replaced with a yearning for your former lover. He prays to every star in Tyvat for this to be true.

It's on the day of your departure that you receive the bad news in the form of an army of Gardemeks. Childe is being arrested, something about a serial disappearance case. Something about a trial. It's a ruse you feel it in your bones. Neuvillette personally appears at the docks and holds you in his arms as you weep. He assures you this will all be cleared up soon. That you have nothing to fear.

But you do, you have all so much to fear. Neuvillette permits you to stay at his house whilst the trial takes place. He traces the shimmering blue of your veins with his lips. He says he loves you, that he refuses to let you slip from between his fingers ever again. He'll keep you here. Keep you safe. Away from the Fatui.

Away from Ajax.

How he wishes he could tear the universe apart with his teeth. Part the oceans and bury the two of you under it. He dreams of keeping you by his side away from everyone else. Neuvillette is the chief justice of Fontaine, it's a prestigious role, one that demands trust. Yet maybe, just this once. He'll have to find the accused guilty regardless of the evidence.

Tag list: @rebeccawinters @fangirl-katwithclaws @starshiningsirius

1K notes · View notes

daisies-daydreams · 11 months

Note

task force 141 + konig where they gangbang y/n (they corner them in the lockerroom/barracks-- y/n accidentally goes into the wrong room, or is it really the wrong room??) OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT and they each take their turn :DD AAAA im so sorry if its difficult i just really love ur writing :") please take ur time and if u ever do consider this THANK U :")

Pairing: 141 + König x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Consensual Gangbanging, Multiple (and I mean multiple) Orgasms, Clit Play, Oral Sex (69), Penis in Vagina Sex, Thigh Fucking, Anal Sex, Spanking, Vaginal/Anal Fingering, Reader is Going to be Sore 💀 Word Count: 4.1k+

Author’s Note: Hi there! Thank you very much for your request. There were so many different scenarios but I was able to eventually dwindle it down to Y/N walking into the wrong locker room (whoopsie daisy). Also, König is included in the fic, I just couldn’t find a picture with all of them. I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You yawned as you stretched your arms above your head. The sound of the water spraying from the showers was music to your ears-your body worn and grimy from the recent mission. You pushed open the door and padded inside, your steps heavy with exhaustion. All you had on your mind was taking a quick shower and slipping beneath your covers. Billows of steam rushed towards you as you opened the double doors. You headed towards your locker and paid no mind to the other bodies wandering about the room. You furrowed your brows when the combination didn’t work. You frowned as you tried again. Nothing. You flinched when a distinctly male voice cleared his throat behind you.

“Think you’re in the wrong room, lovie”.

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned around. Your blood ran cold. Your lieutenant, Ghost, was standing in front of you with crossed arms, his bulging muscles still dripping with hot water. You blushed when you realized he wasn’t wearing his mask. His face was rugged and littered with scars, an obvious sign of him living through years of combat. Your heart began to race as he took one step closer. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when they wandered down to see his girthy cock hanging between his legs. You bit your lip when you caught a glimpse of it twitching to life. Ghost was only a few feet in front of you as his arms fell to his sides.

“What’re you doin’ in ‘ere, hm, Sergeant?” he mused with a raised brow. His shadow swallowed you whole as you tried to look away. You swallowed a lump in your throat, gripping the towel you held in your arms.

“I-I’m sorry. It was an accident-truly,” you stammered as you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Your eyes flicked around the room to look anywhere but at him, only to lock eyes with the other men. Your knees felt weak as they all stood there staring at you and your flimsy cover-up. You felt your breath punched out of your lungs when you realized they were just as stark naked as Ghost. Your lips parted as your mind began to buzz with a whirlwind of emotions.

You were embarrassed beyond belief…and yet, you couldn’t help but feel the intoxication of pure lust coursing through you. Your blood ran cold when you saw your very own Captain in the same room: his stormy, sea green eyes piercing into you as he gave a wry grin. You felt dizzy as you tried to brace yourself against the lockers, clenching your legs together. Ghost chuckled as he slid his hand beneath your chin, tilting it up so you could meet his gaze.

“You sure it was an accident? Cause the way you're shifting your cute little thighs together tells me otherwise,” he muttered, his hot breath fanning over your neck. A small moan left your lips as his lips raked across your skin. He looked back up at you, his mahogany eyes dripping with pure desire. “Tell us what you want, love,” Ghost murmured, his hands falling to delicately brush over your hips.

Us?

Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you looked around the room. All of the 141's cock’s seemed to twitch and throb to life. Your mouth nearly snapped open when you saw a towering man, who you assumed to be König, pawing at his massive length. Was this really happening? You whined when Ghost peppered your neck with open mouth kisses. A rush of heat struck through your core as he suckled over your pulse, then licked across the blooming hickey. You swallowed thickly before parting your lips.

“I-I want you…all of you,” you squealed when Ghost suckled another hickey onto your neck. He parted from your neck and nipped at the shell of your ear. Your body trembled at the prospect of having every one of your holes stretched and pumped full of cum while you jerked two other men off with your smaller hands. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as Ghost sank his teeth into your neck. You gasped as he flattened his tongue over the throbbing bite mark.

“Gonna take our sweet time with you-right lads?” he rumbled before kissing up your jaw. You heard the men grunt in agreement, their voices falling onto your ears like a melody. You felt lost in your own emotions as they tumbled and crashed together. You squeezed your legs even tighter as Ghost pulled his head up and gave you a soft smile. Your heart cracked at the sight-you were so used to seeing his macabre visage that his expressions seemed lost to you.

“Can’t wait to see how good that pussy feels,” he said before stealing a slow, tender kiss from your lips. The distinguished sound of a door locking felt numb to your ears as the taste of your lieutenant flooded your mouth. It was slightly minty with a hint of tobacco, the flavors blending together as both of you slung your tongues together. You sighed into the kiss as his hands worked to peel your towel off of your trembling body. You felt goosebumps bloom across your body as the fabric fell to the floor.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Ghost breathed, admiring your body. You blushed furiously before he dove back in, his hands gently massaging your hips. Your eyes shot open when another rugged body came up behind you and sandwiched you together. You turned to see Soap beaming at you with his usual, cheeky grin.

“Mind if I have the first go?” he whispered as he licked your jawline. You keened at the feeling of his hot member twitching against your ass.

“P-Please,” you sighed while nodding your head. Ghost remained still for a moment, though decided to step back, admiring the view before him as he gripped his own girthy cock. A deep rumble rose from Soap’s chest as his hands slowly came up your sides. You gasped as they landed on your breasts.

“So fuckin’ soft,” he murmured. You felt arousal start to leak between your legs as he slowly tweaked your sensitive nipples between his rough fingers. You arched your back, pushing your butt further into his hips. The movement caused his dick to slip between your thighs, his head just barely poking out from the front of them.

“Please, Johnny,” you mewled. Soap moaned at the sound of his real name as his hands spread over your tits. You went to spread your legs. A whimper left you as you felt him harshly squeeze your breasts.

“Keep your legs together,” Soap ordered with a husky growl. You nodded before throwing your head back, letting it fall on his sturdy shoulder. Soap pressed kisses up your neck as he began to slowly push and pull his cock between your thighs. He groaned as your cunt coated his thick length with your juices.

“Mm, that’s it,” the man groaned as he kneaded your breasts. Your mind became more fuzzy as he added another bite mark to your shoulder. “That’s my good lass,” he lilted. You felt your walls clench as the head of his cock continuously breached through your slick folds. Soap grunted as his thumbs flicked your hard nipples, his hot mouth enveloped over your shoulder in a wet kiss.

“Christ, Soap-hurry up,” Gaz whined. You gazed up at the man with half-lidded eyes. Gaz stared at you with a similar expression, his nostrils flaring as he squeezed his leaking dick in his hand. Your eyes squeezed shut when Soap’s hand fell down and began to rub meticulous circles around your swollen nub.

“Ah, don’t stop,” you whined. Your knees buckled when you felt Soap pinch your clit. He wrapped his arm around your torso, pressing your back flush against his broad chest. You felt like you were being rocked by an ocean of bliss as he started to buck into you at a hungry pace.

“‘M not gonna stop-not when you feel this fuckin’ good,” Soap groaned. The sound of your slick movements stoked the fire growing in the pit of your belly. You mewled as Soap drew faster circles around your clit. “C’mon-cum with me, bonnie,” he moaned with a sharp snap of his hips. You gasped as the cord inside of you snapped violently. You arched your back as a white-hot wave of ecstasy washed over you.

The feeling of Soap’s cock twitching beneath you only prolonged your blissful contractions. He coated your thighs with rope after rope of his cum, the warmth dribbling down to your knees as you writhed in pleasure. Soap kissed your cheek as his cock began to soften between your legs. You panted as your high dissipated.

“Look so cute when you cum over my cock, hen,” Soap praised as he still held you close. He kissed your temple before slowly backing away from you, his hands protectively placed on your hips. You stared into his deep blue eyes before you felt a new pair of warm hands . You gazed behind you, meeting a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

“‘Scuse me, love,” Gaz gave a wry grin as he laid himself down on the hard surface. You mirrored his expression as you sat on top of him, angling yourself to take his cock. He clicked his tongue.

“Not quite what I had in mind,” Gaz said as he grabbed your hips. You gasped as he spun you around, your dripping cunt hovering just above his mouth. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his thick cock twitching right in front of your face. Your breath stuttered as you heard Gaz smack his lips, his hot breath cascaded over your folds.

“H-Holy shit,” you whispered. Your hands flew up to brace Gaz’s thighs as he slipped his mouth over your cunt. You moaned, a jolt of electricity shooting through your core. You took several deep breaths as he moved his tongue back and forth, writing out his name across your slit. You took a few deep breaths before slowly sinking your mouth around his shaft.

Gaz groaned as he swiped at your folds while you bobbed your head up and down his length. He was thicker than you imagined-his girth stretching out your jaw more than any other man you’ve been with. The taste of his salty-bitter precum danced over your tongue as you swirled your wet muscle around his head each time you came back up.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” he murmured into your pussy before taking your clit between his lips. Your hands clenched around his thighs as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub.

“Gaz, fuck,” you whined, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock. The sergeant chuckled before thrusting his tongue inside of your quivering hole. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose before angling your head to take him in deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

Both of you moaned and panted as you ate each other like starved wolves. The vibrations from Gaz’s voice sent ripples of arousal straight into your core. You released a breathy sigh around his dick as he slipped his tongue out and slid one of his digits inside of you. You shifted your hips over Gaz’s face as he stroked you tenderly, his finger reaching and caressing your g-spot. You heard him emit a low growl as his cock twitched inside of your wet cavern.

You moaned his name as he gave a harsh suck to your clit, your second high tearing you in half. Your whole body grew tense as his cock was lodged deep in your throat. You gasped as you felt something warm spill into your mouth, his cum draining down your esophagus. His brows furrowed as your walls clenched around his finger, sucking him in eagerly.

As your high began to fade, you slowly pulled your lips off of his length. You made sure to keep your lips tightly wound together, carefully holding his seed inside your mouth. He smoothed his hands over your hips, raising them before he gasped out for air. It made you wonder if he wanted to suffocate as he devoured your cunt. The thought made a small shiver course through you.

“Fuck me, (Y/N). That was incredible,” Gaz gasped between heavy breaths. You smiled sheepishly before turning so he could see your slightly swollen cheeks. His lips parted as you audibly swallowed his cum. You grinned as you stuck out your tongue. No trace of white was left. “Bloody hell,” he shuddered.

You smiled as the man guided you to rest on his chest. You closed your eyes and caught your breath, the afterglow of your orgasm warming you from head to toe. Just as you felt your heart rate steady, a shadow crossed over you. You cracked an eye open to see your Captain looming above you, his thick hand pumping at his red-hot length.

“Believe I should’ve gone first-bein’ your Captain and all,” Price muttered. Gaz huffed as he helped you off of him, guiding you to sit up while he slid off the bench. You gazed up at Price with the biggest doe-eyes you could pull, though it seemed futile when you were shoved onto your stomach. You winced as his calloused hands kneaded at the flesh of your hips. You turned your head slightly to see your Captain leaning on the bench with one knee, his other leg balancing himself on the tiled floor. He raised a thick brow as he continued to jerk himself off.

“Think you should be disciplined, Sergeant. You’ve walked into the men’s locker room like a naughty girl,” Price grunted. You cried out as he laid a smack against your ass. He groaned as he watched it jiggle, a red mark staining your bum. You felt your heart race when he grabbed your asscheeks in his hands, spreading them apart.

The man shoved two of his fingers into his mouth before releasing them with a wet “pop”. You moaned as he circled your puckering asshole with his digits. Your hands flew in front of you to grab the edges of the bench as he moved to massage your ass with one hand, the other slowly dipping into your hole.

“Say it-say what a naughty girl you’ve been,” Price commanded as he pumped his fingers into you. You gurgled incoherently, your mind intoxicated from two mind-shattering orgasms and the feeling of him stretching your hole wide open. You lunged forward as he smacked your bum again, this time leaving another red mark.

“I-I’m a naughty girl,” you keened, shaking your ass as he thrusted his digits inside with a sudden squelch. “A-And I need to be disciplined,” you batted your lashes. Price growled before curling his fingers inside of you.

“Damn right, you do,” he huffed with a small smirk. You jolted forward as he suddenly shoved his length into your asshole, molding your insides the shape of his cock. Your mouth snapped into a tight “o” as you felt yourself being stretched out by your Captain, inch by delicious inch.

“So fuckin’ tight-Christ,” he grunted as his hips became flush with your raw ass. You moaned at the tightness before he slid himself out, leaving his head inside. Your fingers curled around the bench as he pistoned into you, his hands bruisingly gripping your waist. “Love how your hole stretches around me,” Price rumbled. You felt tears prick at your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you from head to toe. You yelped as he laid another slap to your ass.

“Fuck-I want to see you, love-but this arse just feels too fuckin’ good,” he hissed between gritted teeth. You arched your back as he grabbed your hair, pulling on it while he shoved a few fingers into your mouth. You instinctively suckled on them, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. You jolted when his other hand laid a sudden smack to your cunt, your slick spraying across his hand.

“I’m so close,” he grunted. Your head rolled to the side as your third orgasm washed over you, sending a shockwave through your core. Price growled as he slammed his hips into you. Your entire body lit on fire as he filled up your insides. It was an entirely new sensation-though it was one you could certainly get used to. He patted your thighs before slipping off of you, his rough palms lingering on your waist. Your limbs felt like they were full of lead as you tried to stand up, only to remain prone on the bench.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Price-I think you broke her,” Soap gaped. You blinked lazily before being pulled into two strong arms. You looked up to see an unfamiliar face above you. You gave a small smile as you recognized the pair of icy blue eyes that gazed down at you softly. The tip of a water bottle was pressed to your lips and you greedily slurped up the cold liquid.

“Ah, the little Maus just needed a break,” König cooed. You tapped his wrist, letting him know you were done with your drink. You smacked your lips when he pulled it away from you. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his rugged stomach as he gently rocked you in his arms, your naked body resting on his sturdy lap. His hand caressed your red cheek as he leaned down, kissing your forehead.

“Do you think you can handle any more, Schatz?” the Austrian murmured. You stared at him, eyes half-lidded and body shaking with overstimulation.

“Y-Yes,” you rasped out. König’s brows knitted together.

“If you’re feeling too tired, we don’t have-” He gasped when you straddled his hips, legs clumsily wrapping around his back. He moaned as you kissed him deeply, your pussy lips gliding over his massive length.

“I want to,” you said resolutely. König beamed before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Turn around for me then, Kätzchen,” he commanded gently with a pat on your waist. You smiled as you spun around, making sure to rake your ass against his abs. You could feel the rumble in his chest as you spread your limp legs over his. He muttered sweet phrases in German as he slipped his hand down towards your heat. You shivered against him as he spread your labia apart with his thick fingers. Your cunt was a mess of slick and cum that dribbled down from your asshole. He groaned as he felt around your puffy folds and swollen clit.

“Gonna take it nice and slow, ja?” König soothed. You nodded and relaxed as he slipped a finger into your hole. You gasped at how just one finger filled you up, your walls mush around the ridges of his digit. König grunted as he began to slowly pump his finger inside of you, his other hand massaging your bundle of nerves. You moaned as he played with your pussy, his movements calm and gentle. You gasped when the pad of his finger brushed against your g-spot. “Are you alright, Kätzchen?” he asked. You nodded, curling your hands around his wrists.

“Yes-you feel so good, Kö. Making me feel so good,” you praised. König grinned before he added another finger into your cunt, stretching you out wonderfully. His movements grew a bit faster as his thumb flicked and stroked at your clit. You gasped when his fingers were replaced with his cock. Your eyes nearly crossed as you felt his immensely thick shaft split you down the middle.

“Meine,” was all he could rasp out before he gently bucked into your heat. You moaned when you saw his head bulge beneath your stomach. You could feel your body melting in his touch. He continued to swirl his finger around your nub as he bounced you on his cock, his voice cracking with every moan and pant that left him. Despite his gargantuan size, he was handling you like you were made of porcelain. Your eyes glazed over as you felt yourself tense again. König whined as your walls constricted around him.

“König-I’m gonna cum,” you mewled. He rumbled before pistoning his hips up into your heat.

“Fuck-me too,” he gasped out. Both of you moaned at the same time as your walls contracted around him. He stilled inside you, your cunt milking his cock dry. You whined as you felt his cum gush out of your pussy, flooding his lap. The rush of liquid never seemed to end as he slowly pulled you off his length. He peppered your face with soft kisses before giving you another sip of water.

“You did so well for me, meine Schatz,” he praised while stroking your cheek with his thumb. You smiled at him sleepily before he receded back. You glanced above you to find Ghost standing tensely, his cock cherry red and ready to burst. He grabbed a towel lying on the floor and helped you up. You sighed as you were laid back down on the soft fabric, his palms stroking over your shaking legs.

“How you feelin’, lovie?” Ghost asked softly. You felt your voice die in your throat as he gazed at you with his gentle, brown eyes. Eyes you’ve seen full of a quiet rage countless times in combat.

“I think…I can do one more,” you puffed out. Ghost hummed as he adjusted his hips.

“Atta girl,” he praised. You smiled up at him as he slid his cock inside, pushing some of König’s cum out of your hole. You melted as he thrusted into you, gently massaging your tender breasts. “Been wantin’ you for so long-fuck-you feel better than I could ever imagine,” Ghost grunted. You bit your lip, taking in slow, deep breaths as he bottomed out inside of you.

Your limbs felt like putty in his hands as he raised one of your legs to fall over his shoulder. Both of you locked eyes and you nodded. He exhaled through his nose as he pumped his cock through your plush walls. You could feel your mind starting to grow fuzzy as he rocked his hips into you.

“Simon,” you murmured. Ghost’s hips stuttered as his name softly fell from your swollen lips. His movements became a little more hungry, his balls slapping against your cum-coated ass as he snapped his hips.

“So perfect f’me,” he groaned. You barely had time to brace yourself before your fifth orgasm shook you to your core, electricity trickling down to your fingers and toes.

“Christ, how many is that? Five?” he groaned. You nodded your head, letting your eyes close as you were rocked by his strong thrusts. Ghost rumbled as he crashed his lips onto yours. The sound of your sloppy, cum-filled cunt fluttering around his dick made your mind completely melt. “You’ve taken all so well, love,” Ghost praised as he bullied his cock into your hole. Your brows knitted together as he kissed you again.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, stuff you with my cum,” he moaned as his balls twitched against your folds. “You’d like that, love?” Ghost huffed. You nodded.

“Please, please fucking fill me,” you gasped. He chuckled as he sped up his thrusts, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing throughout the tiled space. You moaned and raked your nails down his shoulders as he slammed his cock into you, stilling inside and shooting his load into your tight hole. Your jaw went slack as you felt your pussy warm, only to feel exhaustion wash over you once more.

“(Y/N)? Are you with me?” Ghost’s muffled voice called. You only managed to make a small mumbling noise before sleep finally overtook you.

+++

You gasped as you shot up beneath a cozy comforter. You looked down, seeing you were wearing a fresh pair of clothes. Your hair was still wet and smelled of shampoo. Your eyes scanned the dark room. You finally recognized that you were back in your quarters when your vision adjusted. You puffed out a breath of air as you sank your head down onto your pillow.

Was all of that just a dream?

Your face turned a deep shade of red at the many lewd acts that transpired. You yawned before shifting in your bed, gasping when you felt a dull ache blooming in all of your holes.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

2K notes · View notes

sanriothot · 4 months

Text

SHOWER SURPRISE

Dick Grayson x Female! Reader

Summary: You try joining Dick in the shower for some time together and it backfires.

Warning: SMUT! NSFW! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI OR YOU WILL GET BLOCKED! hickeys, oral (m receiving), pet names (babe + baby), please don’t do sexc time in the shower, you might hurt yourself ☹️ also no beta, we die like robins

Word Count: 1,168

A/N: look at me, two fics a couple days apart! I saw a writing prompt with this plot years ago and i’ve always wanted to write it! I just wanted to let everyone know that requests are open! I’m still working on finishing work from my drafts but I don't mind working on other ideas. just make sure to check faq before requesting. Ofc reblogs and replies are always appreciated 💖

This wasn’t part of your plan. Not part of the plan at all.

You scrambled out of the freezing cold shower and clambered for your bathrobe that hung on the door of your shared bathroom. Water dripped all over the floor but you were more focused on getting warm.

“Baby?!” Dick gasped, it was hard to miss the shock in his voice. His head popped out from behind the sliding shower door, his eyes wide and jaw already on the floor. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes glaze over at his muscular frame, only slightly obscured by the frosted glass of the shower door. it’s not like you haven’t seen him undressed before but you can’t help but to ogle at him with no shame.

You wanted to surprise Dick by joining him for his post-patrol shower. Help him get off the sweat and grime from a long night and maybe get him dirty in a different way. But you forget one key piece of information.

Dick typically takes cold showers after patrols.

“Yes, just-“ Goosebumps sprinkled across your dark skin, most of it still exposed despite how tightly you wrapped yourself up in your bathrobe. You caught yourself almost letting your teeth chatter while continuing to speak to your boyfriend. “Just so cold.”

“Come back in, I’m gonna warm up the shower.” Dick moves towards the faucet of the walk in shower. A squeak rings out as it turns and slowly the bathroom mirror begins to fog up from steam.

“C’mon, Babe,” He stretches his arm out for you.

You strip your robe off slowly. It’s not like Dick is lying about warming up the shower but that small part of your mind still can’t get over the shock of the cold water. You fully expect to get drenched with bone chilling water for the second time tonight.

“I promise, it’s warm, baby.” As if he could read your mind (or just read your body language, being that he was adopted by the world’s greatest detective).

You step in the shower once again now greeted by warm water and the sweet smile of your boyfriend.

“There you are. I really thought you were going to ditch me for a second.”

You took the suds covered loofah from out of his hand and gently ran it across his chest. You giggle to yourself before answering “Almost did.”

You and Dick go through your entire shower routine together, occasionally sprinkling in small talk on how your day went.

Soon, You’re rinsing each other off, the soap swirling down the drain. Dick drags his hands up and down the sides of your body, the water running down the both of you. He’s completely smitten with you after feeling so well taken care after a long night.

He leans in, dusting kisses across your face, making it distracting you from rinsing the soap from his inky black hair. He’s teasing you. Each kiss, you think he’ll finally kiss on your lips but the kiss lands somewhere else instead.

After a while, you had enough of his game. you tangle your fingers into his hair and guide his lips to yours.

Dick let out a whimper, he pressed your body against the shower wall, deeping this kiss. His hands roamed your body, fingers massaging your ass and the other hand squeezing your boob. He kisses the corner of your mouth, to cheek and then your jawline. Finally, he works his way down your neck, kisses getting sloppier as he goes. Your breaths get deeper while he sucks on the crook of your neck, grazing his teeth on it before dragging his tongue. Your neck is covered in hickeys but couldn’t care less, the only thing on your mind is making sure you and Dick have a great time and enjoy the moment.

“I need to know if you want this,” Dick says.

You look into his baby blue eyes with so much excitement. “I want this.”

“On your knees, now.”

You slowly drop to your knees, making sure to steady yourself as not to fall on the tile floor. His dick already hard, your fingers wrap around it, giving him a couple pumps. You let your tongue swirl on the tip, getting a taste of the precum that was already leaking out. Your lips work its way past his tip, taking your sweet time to suck him off.

“I know you can take it or am I too big for you?” You both lock eyes as he smirks, clearly teasing you.

And at the moment, you thought fuck taking your sweet time.

Your hands move to his thighs and squeeze them, letting your nails slightly dig into his skin to ground. You increase your speed, head bobbing with all caution thrown out. Your mind was already made, you were determined to work your way down his shaft. Coaxing more moans and whimpers out of Dick as you continue sucking him off. You can’t help but to moan at the filthy sounds you were making in the process.

You got yourself as close to his hilt as you could, your mouth adjusting to his size before Dick grabs the back of your head and thrusts.

“That’s right. Every inch of me.” He groans out.

You're completely at his mercy, your mind can only focus on how good this feels while you deep throat him. He slowly pulls out before thrusting again and again, working up to steady pace to fuck you to. He was kidding about taking every inch of him because god, you could feel how big he was. Your eyes glassy as a mix of drool and precum drips down your chin, trying your best not to choke.

“Don’t stop, baby. I’m so close-“ He moans, his hips rutting into your mouth, his self control slipping. Each trust was getting sloppier than the last. The water from the shower runs down every crevice of his toned body. He can help but babble about how great you feel and how much he wants you, his mind already blessed out.

And that’s when it happens. One last thrust that kisses the back of your throat. Dick moans and pants, his chest rising and falling as he fills your mouth with his hot sticky cum.

You mew, making sure to suck every last drop before your lips let go with a pop. You’re already aware that you probably look like a hot mess. Saliva and leftover cum that you couldn’t swallow running down your mouth. Your pupils are blown out with stray tears. And if it wasn’t for the shower cap you had on, you know hair would’ve been ruined too.

But you didn’t mind at all, loving making Dick a wreck.

Dick leans over, twists the faucet off.

“C’mere, I’m not done with you.” He pulls you up to feet again, cupping your face before diving in for another kiss. His tongue brushes past your lips to get a taste of you and himself.

#batman imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x reader smut #nightwing smut #dick grayson smut

559 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 10 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It was killing Bradley that you thought he was sneaking around behind your back. There was nobody else for him except his Princess, but he'd run out of chances with you. When you decide to go out for the night to blow off some steam, you end up drunk with a ripped dress and nobody to turn to.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, drinking, non consensual touching, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was calling out for you and Noah, but you were crying in earnest now as he stormed around his house looking for you. Noah seemed to be all cried out, but your tears were showing now signs of stopping.

"Princess!" he shouted, and when he entered the bathroom, he asked, "Baby, what's going on?"

Noah was calling out for him, but you were so angry, you couldn't contain yourself. "I can't believe you lied to me again," you managed to say. "I can't believe I let you lie to me again."

You'd given him a second chance, but you never should have. Because now you were in love with both of them, and this hurt so much more than it would have if you had walked away after Noah's birthday party.

You pushed his hand away when he reached for you.

"Princess, Baby, I can explain. I swear, nothing is going on."

You shook your head and wiped your tears away, because Noah was the most important thing at the moment. "He has a fever," you whispered, refusing to meet Bradley's eyes. "He's been crying for you, and I can't find a thermometer. I gave him some Tylenol."

When Bradley looked past you to his son, you ducked out into the hallway. But before you could really go anywhere, Bradley's big hand had you by the waist.

"We need to talk," he rasped softly, pulling you a little closer.

"There's nothing to talk about," you replied, finally looking up at him. "You lied to me. Again. You told me I meant something to you. You said there was nobody else." Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched his face. How he managed to look so sincere while he lied was beyond your comprehension.

"It's not like that. Nothing is going on. I promise, Princess," he said, voice steady and eyes unwavering. "There's only you."

You wanted more than anything to believe him. You wanted to end this night in his arms. You started to melt into his touch, practically begging for him to explain this to you, but then movement caught your eye. When you glanced into the living room, there was another woman standing next to the couch, holding a bouquet of beautiful flowers.

You had to press your lips together for a few seconds until you had yourself under control. Then you looked Bradley in the eye and said, "Fuck you."

Quickly, you spun out of his grasp and ran back to the bathtub where Noah was still sitting. As you knelt down on the mat, he reached out for you. You knew you weren't going to be able to see him again.

"Sweet Noah," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around him. You kissed his forehead a few times while you sobbed, and he got your shirt all wet. "You'll feel better by tomorrow, I'm sure. Your dad will take care of you, okay?"

"Okay," he said, his voice soft and sleepy.

You could barely see him through your tears as you kissed his cheek and told him, "I love you."

Then you were back on your feet and shoving Bradley out of the way. But he followed you out into the living room where the woman you assumed was Helen stood with her pretty flowers and her tiny dress. You glared at her as she smiled at you when you reached for your tote bag.

"Princess, please, just let me explain!" Bradley was begging now. He could beg all night long, but it didn't mean you had to stay and listen to it this time. You'd found his begging routine so sexy before. But now he could fucking beg Helen for all you cared.

You wrenched open his front door before you turned back and hissed, "Leave me alone. Lose my number. And go take care of Noah."

But he followed you out to your car, right at your heels. "Baby, it's all a misunderstanding. Please! I need you!"

"What do you need me for? An easy lay?" you asked as you practically dove for your car. "I don't have anything Helen doesn't have."

"Listen to me!"

"No!" you shouted. "Go take care of Noah!"

And then you climbed into your car and pulled out of his driveway as Bradley stood there with his hands raking through his hair. And you made it to the end of his block before your body was shaking as you cried.

-----------------------

Bradley watched you drive away from him, still in shock over everything that was happening right now. He reached for his car keys in his pocket, but your words started to penetrate his brain.

"Shit," he groaned, running back up to the front door. According to you, Noah had a fever, and he couldn't just leave him alone. Bradley sprinted past Helen and back into the bathroom where Noah was sitting in the tub.

"Come here, bub," Bradley whispered, scooping him out and wrapping him up tight in a towel. "Are you okay?"

"Where did she go?" Noah asked, eyes wide and concerned. "I want her to come rub my back."

Bradley swallowed hard. "She left."

Noah burst into tears as Bradley held him tight. "I want Princess! I want her to be my mommy!"

Bradley could barely breathe as he crossed the hall to Noah's bedroom. He knew how attached his son had become to you. Noah loved you. And he knew you loved Noah. That feeling was overpowering for Bradley, too. When he said he needed you, he meant it. His heart was demanding he be near you.

He froze just outside Noah's bedroom door before turning to the living room. Helen looked at him like the picture of innocence, clutching your flowers in front of her.

Bradley's voice shook with a combination of sadness and rage. "Helen. You need to leave."

She looked at Noah all bundled in a towel and then back to Bradley. "Can't you drive me home?"

"No," he replied immediately, his voice now rough with unshed tears. "You need to be gone by the time I walk back out here. And leave the flowers."

He turned and took Noah into his bedroom and gently changed him into some pajamas. When Bradley kissed his forehead, he could tell Noah still had a slight fever, but the Tylenol must have helped. "Snuggle in under the covers," he whispered before heading for his own bedroom where the thermometer was. He took it back to Noah and found that he had a low fever.

But Noah was already dozing off. It was late now, and as soon as Bradley was walking into the hallway, he reached for his phone. He tapped on Babysitter in his contacts, wishing he'd changed it to your name before Helen saw it at the restaurant.

Thankfully, when he looked around the living room and kitchen, Helen appeared to be gone. He groaned as your phone rang until it took him to your voicemail message. The sound of your voice telling him to leave you a message had him sinking down onto the couch next to the bouquet of flowers that were meant for you.

"Princess, please. Please call me back. Nothing is going on with Helen. Nothing is going on with anyone. There's just you. I didn't know she was going to be at the restaurant tonight," he said, pausing before he softly added, "and these flowers are for you. Please."

Then he ended the call and let his phone drop to the floor. He just looked at it on his area rug. He knew he had been on his very last chance with you. You were kind and generous, and he wasn't even sure he deserved as much as you were giving him. But nothing was going on with Helen. You owned his heart.

His gaze was transfixed on his phone screen, praying he'd see it light up. But he got nothing. Eventually he stood and picked it up, trying your phone again and again, leaving you more voicemail messages. He couldn't even keep track of what he was saying to you, only certain that he was begging you to call him back. And then your inbox was full. So he texted you while he walked into his bedroom and collapsed on his bed. And there hung your purple crown on his bedpost.

When he finally fell asleep in his clothes, he'd heard nothing from you, and he was afraid he never would.

--------------------------

When you got home, you got right in the shower, needing to scrub the disgusting feeling from your skin. Bradley was a liar. Your hands were shaking as you tried to wash yourself. You were in love with a man who lied to you. And you were in love with his sweet son, too. You loved how it felt being at their house. You loved his stupid mugs and his coffee maker and when he bought fancy creamer for you. You loved making construction paper crowns and eating popcorn. You loved how it felt like Bradley was making love to you when you and he were on his living room floor.

You'd probably never stop crying. What was wrong with you? He was twelve years older and clearly emotionally unavailable. He was a mess, fighting for custody of his child. He was a walking red flag. And you still loved him.

When you plugged your phone in to charge it, you had to put it on the Do Not Disturb setting, because Bradley couldn't take a hint. You were not ready to talk to him right now. You might never be.

Once you managed to sleep, your dreams were consumed by him. You could still hear his voice and feel his body heat when you woke up in bed alone. And you were just as angry with yourself the next morning. You should have been smart enough to keep all of your feelings at surface level. Then you could have enjoyed a physical relationship with Bradley until he found someone else to mess with on the dating app. Wasn't that what he seemed to want from the beginning? When he'd kissed you when he was drunk? When you gave him a blowjob on his couch?

But you had to go ahead and want him all to yourself. You wanted the coffee cups with Princess scrawled across them. You wanted to feel his lips on your fingers while you fed him Skittles. You wanted his body weight pressed against you and his mouth on your skin. You wanted him to beg for you.

You cried as you brushed your teeth and changed into your scrubs for class. When you picked up your phone, you were tempted to switch it out of Do Not Disturb mode, but you were too afraid to see if he was still trying to text or call. You weren't sure if you wanted him to or not. It didn't matter. You were so close to graduating. You could spend all of your time focusing on your final few assignments and then job hunting. You didn't even need to stay in San Diego. You could go anywhere. And then you cried some more as you tried to drink your shitty coffee, because you remembered you wouldn't be seeing Noah anymore.

"Fuck," you sobbed, trying to wipe away your tears as you packed up your tote bag for class. And there was Bradley's house key that he had insisted you take again last night. Why the hell did he bother giving that back to you when he was messing around with someone else? And why did you agree to wait for him in the first place? There had never been an official label on whatever you and he were, so you really had no right to be this upset.

You put your textbooks in your bag without bothering to remove the key. You just didn't even want to touch it. And then you opened your front door to leave for campus. And there he stood.

"Princess."

Without meeting his eyes, you kept your chin held high. You squeezed out onto your small porch and locked your front door, fighting hard to keep the tears at bay.

"Baby."

Then you reached into your tote bag until your fingers found his house key. You held it out to him, but he didn't take it. Then you noticed that the pretty bouquet of flowers you had seen last night was in his hand.

"I don't need this anymore," you said as loudly as you could. Your voice was shaking, and you sounded like a child. He didn't take the key. "Take it!"

"That's yours. I don't want it back," he said, deep voice steady as you met his eyes. "I want you to keep using it."

Tears fell from your eyes as you spat, "For what? So I can walk in on you and Helen? How many others are there?"

"There's just you." He'd been saying that since last night. "There's only ever going to be you. Please, Princess. Just hear me out, baby."

But you cut him off and headed to your car. "I would have waited for you, no matter how long things took with Meredith. But I don't have time for this. I need to get to class."

He looked like you had hit him. "I can come back this evening," he said frantically, following right behind you. "Or you can use that key to my house and come by any time you're free. I'm begging you."

"I'm sick of your begging!" you said, no longer caring that he could see you crying. "I'm tired of your lies, too! Just take your damn key, and stay out of my life." You tossed it in the general vicinity of his chest and then heard it clatter against the pavement as you climbed into your car.

He could stand on your sidewalk with those flowers all day long for all you cared. You drove to class and thought that perhaps you needed to find something to distract yourself for the weekend.

----------------------------

Bradley bent to pick up his house key and took it back to your porch along with the flowers that had always been meant for you. Noah's fever had broken overnight, and after dropping him off at daycare, Bradley drove right to you. He didn't stop for coffee. He wasn't going to stop for anything.

You thought he wanted Helen. The idea of it made him sick. He knew what you must be thinking right now. He'd made so many promises to you. Small ones and big ones. He told you he wanted you to feed him Skittles. He told you he wanted to be with you. He'd said everything in between.

He set the flowers down on your mat along with the key. And then he prayed that you'd give him even three minutes to explain himself. But he could see that from your perspective, he probably didn't even deserve that.

"Fuck," he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair as he walked back to the Bronco. He needed to get to work.

Upon arriving, he walked right over to Nat. "Why do you look like that?" she asked cautiously. "You were happy when I saw you last night. Did you see Meredith again?"

Bradley started laughing which made her look at him with even more concern. "I fucking wish, Nat. I wish that was all that I was dealing with right now."

"I literally saw you like twelve hours ago!" she said with alarm. And her eyes grew wide as Bradley told her about Helen waiting for him at the restaurant. "Penny had no right to do that to you! I'd be pissed too!"

"Oh, that's not even half of it."

When he told her all about Noah and you and how it looked like he was sneaking around behind your back, Nat gasped. "No! But you love her. You would never."

He pressed his lips together and looked down at his boots. "Yeah, well... it certainly looks like that's what I was doing. And she's never going to forgive me now. Not after the last time when I tried to cut her off."

"Bradley," Nat said, patting his chest.

"I went to her place this morning, after I dropped Noah off. She won't listen to anything I have to say." He could hear Maverick calling for them to head to their aircrafts. "She wants no part of me now."

Nat grabbed her helmet and his. "She probably just needs a day to cool off. Give her some time, and I think she'll listen to you."

She handed his helmet to him, but Bradley stood in the hangar alone for a minute after everyone else cleared out. The last thing he wanted at the moment was to have to talk to Jake or anybody else. Like a dumbass, he checked his phone to see if you had texted him. Of course there was nothing. So he headed to his Super Hornet and ended up flying like shit.

-------------------------

After class on Friday, you went right home. A few of your friends had asked if you had any weekend plans. You tentatively told them that you were free, and they invited you to an off campus frat party Saturday night. But it was at a house that was associated with Greyson's fraternity. And you were a grad student now. And it wasn't really your scene.

But you needed to keep yourself occupied. "Sure," you said eventually, agreeing to let your friend Lexi and her boyfriend give you a ride. At least this way, you could have a few drinks and know you'd have a reliable ride home.

When you pulled down your street, you half expected to see the Bronco in front of your house. You weren't sure if you were relieved or upset by its absence. "You're pathetic," you whispered as you parked your car. Bradley's house key and those stupid flowers were waiting for you. He made it so you couldn't even get into your house without a physical reminder of what he did.

You kind of wanted to hear him out. Listen to the dumb excuse he made up. So you went inside with the flowers and the key and sat at your kitchen table. You read all of the texts he'd sent you. He must have had his phone on him all day at work, pleading with you to let him stop over, asking for three minutes of your time. Then you listened to the voicemails. And you really shouldn't have. Because that man's voice was like a weapon. It struck you so hard, you had to delete them before they made you feel any weaker.

And then he called again while you were trying to delete the messages, and you almost accidentally answered his call. You'd had enough. You could no longer tell if you were more angry or hurt, so you went upstairs, took a bath and then got in bed for the night.

But the texts and calls didn't stop. He was still contacting you on Saturday. You spent hours getting ready to go out to the house party, and even you thought you looked pretty flawless. But there were more texts from Bradley, so you finally wrote back to him.

Please stop.

And then he did. You got in the back seat of the car when Lexi and Scott picked you up. And you rode all the way to the party with a phone that was finally silent.

But the party was so loud, you regretted going as soon as you showed up. And you could feel eyes on you, on the bare skin of your legs. Your dress was short, one you had been saving to wear to Bradley's house. One you had hoped he would have been taking off of you.

Then you saw Greyson, and his eyes were already on your body. You knew there was a good chance he'd be here tonight, surrounded by his idiot friends. And then it struck you how much you preferred spending time with Bradley and Noah, making dinner and coloring, listening to playlists and eating Skittles.

"Hey," you managed to say when he made his way over to you. Silently you wondered if Bradley ever returned that hoodie to him.

"What's up?" Greyson replied, licking his lips and letting his eyes dip down to your chest. "I'm surprised you're here."

"Me too, honestly," you muttered, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to hear you over the music.

"Want a drink?" he asked as his friends made their way over to you.

"I can get it myself," you replied, squeezing through the crowd toward the kitchen and the kegs. You poured yourself a beer as Greyson's friend Ryan bumped into you. When his hand lingered on your waist, you knew it was intentional.

"Hey, sorry about that," he said with an obnoxious laugh. He was huge. Almost as big as Bradley. If he kept working out, he'd get there someday. But you'd never liked him.

"No problem," you said, scooting out of the way, wondering where Lexi had gone. You circled back through the living room and ran into her and a few other nursing majors you knew from your classes. They all seemed surprised to see you, and you realized they must come here every Saturday.

You chugged your beer so you didn't have to interact much. Somehow you felt above all of this. Like your time spent watching Noah made you want to be here even less than before. You were already uncomfortable, and when one of them asked if you were dating anyone, you felt tears behind your eyes.

"No," you replied, holding your empty cup. "I haven't dated anyone since Greyson." It hurt your heart to say it out loud. "Hey, I'm going to get another beer."

The girls ended up following you to the kitchen where you chugged beer after beer and pretended to be absorbed by what they were saying. And with each passing drink, you started to feel a little calmer, a little looser. You made a few jokes about your professors, and you started to feel more comfortable.

You were swaying on your feet a little bit, laughter bubbling out of you as you filled your cup up one more time. But Ryan was there again, and you heard someone whispering in your ear.

"Try some of the punch." You turned to see another one of Greyson's friends. You thought his name was Ollie.

"What's in it?" you asked him, and he smirked at you.

But Lexi was pouring some for herself. "It's good! It's like a rum punch!"

"Okay," you mumbled, and she thrust a very full cup into your left hand. You alternated taking sips of the beer and the hot pink fruit punch. And as soon as you got to the bottom of both cups, you felt like you were on a cloud. Or maybe you were a cloud. Your body was soft. Your lips were numb. There was something you'd been trying not to think about. What was it again? Hmmm...

Oh yeah, you were trying not to think about Bradley.

You laughed as Ryan placed his hand on your bare shoulder. "Let me refill that," he said. His voice echoed in your head, and instead of a normal response you giggled. And then you couldn't stop laughing. Because everything was funny. Lexi was sneaking off with her boyfriend, and Ollie was touching your hair.

"Oh!" you sighed when you saw Greyson walk back into the kitchen. "I know you!"

"Jesus," he said with a laugh. "How much have you had to drink? You've only been here for like three hours."

You'd been here for three hours? It felt like thirty minutes. You opened up your little clutch and checked your phone. It was almost eleven, and you had no new texts. But your vision was a mess. You stumbled again, nearly spilling the cup of punch when Ryan handed it to you.

"I don't know," you told Greyson. "I don't know how much I've had to drink." Then you laughed some more.

He shook his head at you. "You were never this fun when we were together."

"Shut up," you told him with a soft hiccup.

"Yeah, Grey," Ollie taunted, "shut up!" You couldn't tell if he was making fun of you or making fun of Greyson. But you still found it hilarious.

"Where did the girls go?" you asked after a minute. The room was swirling, and you thought you were alone in the kitchen with the guys, but you honestly weren't sure. Your stomach was starting to hurt from how much you'd had to drink. A few people filtered in to get more beer, and you couldn't tell if you recognized any of them or not.

"I'll go look for your friends," Ryan promised. "Just drink this while you wait." He handed you another drink, but he didn't leave. You sipped it while he watched you, and then your stomach lurched.

Your whole body felt too hot. Suddenly your fingers could barely even hold the cup. You turned toward the guys, and it felt like you were moving in slow motion. As many times as you licked your lips, it still felt like your mouth was dry. So you sipped some more of the punch, and then you tried to hand it back to Ryan or Greyson.

"Is it really rum?" you asked, your words unclear even to your own ears. "Did you drug me?"

There were more guys here now too. You thought. You weren't sure. Ryan exploded in loud laughter followed by Ollie.

"Listen babydoll, it's just grain alcohol. Not rum," Ryan informed you, and you desperately tried to remember how many cups you drank. That stuff was 80 proof, and now you could barely control your own body. They were all laughing at you, including Greyson as Ryan started talking again. "You think I'd waste drugs on you girls? That's hilarious. You're all easy. You all put out. I've slept with most of the girls at this party."

You couldn't swallow right. Your throat was burning with mortification as you tried to walk over to Greyson for help. But somehow you ended up with Ollie, and you weren't even in the kitchen anymore.

"Where's Greyson?" you asked, feeling hands on your waist and your butt.

"He's right there," Ollie replied, and you turned to see Greyson dancing with someone else. "If you want some, I got weed and shit upstairs in my room."

"Grey!" you called out. He turned toward you and Ollie.

"What?" he asked over the music.

But when he came a little closer, you couldn't remember what you wanted to tell him. And then Ollie had a hand on you and Ryan had a hand on you. And then Ollie was talking to Greyson.

"Hey, I'm going for it, man. You don't care? You still hooking up with her?"

He was talking about you. Right in front of you. But you couldn't even tell him to stop it. You licked your lips again. So dry. You couldn't even talk as tears stung your eyes and your throat got tight.

And then Greyson glanced at you before he said, "Nah, not anymore. I know she was fucking some older guy, but I guess he got sick of her shit too." Then he turned away from you, and you stumbled backwards.

"Hey, it's okay, babydoll," Ollie said, guiding you closer to him. You were pressed against his body. He smelled like sweat, and you could feel that he was hard through his jeans.

Your body wasn't working right. You tilted your head away from him, but then his mouth was on your neck and then your lips. His hand slid up to your breasts, and you wanted to die. "No," you begged. "Don't touch me."

When he reached for your shoulder and slid his fingers under the strap of your dress, you stepped back again. He ripped your dress. It was hanging awkwardly off one shoulder now, and you were holding your clutch so tight, trying not to lose your phone.

"Don't touch me." You were met with more laughter. You wanted to throw up. "Where's the bathroom?" you asked loudly.

"Upstairs," Ryan replied, and you raced for the steps. "I can show you."

"Don't be scared! I'll meet you in my room!" Ollie called after you.

Bathroom. You need to find a bathroom. Then you could figure out what to do. But there were a handful of people in the hallway upstairs, and when you opened a door, you found yourself in a dark bedroom.

"Hello?" you called out as you searched for a lightswitch. You tripped and landed hard on your knee. "Fuck." When you stood up, you found a lamp. The room was empty. Your knee was bleeding and the rip in your dress was so bad, you had to hold it in place so your breast wasn't visible. The room was spinning, and suddenly you couldn't catch your breath. You needed to get out of this house, but you didn't know what to do to make that happen.

Then you were afraid this might be Ollie's room. The guys would come look for you. You could call Lexi. When you looked at your phone screen, all the app icons were blurred together, and you started crying.

Bradley was at the top of your recent calls, and you let your finger tap his name as your eyes settled on the bedroom closet.

---------------------------

A day or two to calm down. That's what Nat told him you needed. But as Bradley eased himself into his bed, he had to fight the urge to text you again. You explicitly asked him to stop contacting you. He sighed and tossed his phone aside. He just wanted to see you, talk to you for a couple minutes. He missed you so much. He could explain this to you. He'd tell you how much he loved you. He'd remind you there was nobody else for him.

The longer he spent away from you and out of contact with you, the worse he felt. It was early yesterday morning that you were yelling at him in front of your house, and with each passing hour, he was getting more desperate.

Maybe this was it. Maybe he had run out of chances with you. You were too good for him. Too young. Too perfect. He wasn't sure he'd even be able to make you happy long term. Not as happy as you made him. But it was fucking killing him that you thought he went out on a date with another woman.

Jake had been right the whole time; Bradley should have put you on display for the whole world to see. But now he had missed out again. Because of Meredith. Because of Helen. Because he was always hesitating.

When his phone rang, he jolted upright in bed.

Babysitter

You were calling him. It was you. It was nearly midnight, but it was you.

"Princess," he said as soon as he accepted the call. "Baby."

But he was met with the sound of you crying. "Bradley?" Your voice was soft, and you didn't sound quite right to him. He was up and out of the bed immediately.

"What's wrong, Princess?" he asked, heart pounding in his chest as you continued to cry.

"I know you're probably on a date with Helen," you said, words slurring a bit as he held the phone tight to his ear. "But I didn't know who else to call, Daddy."

"Baby. Tell me what's wrong," he demanded, his panic rising.

When you just cried more, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Please come get me."

--------------------------

Hurry, Daddy! Go get your Princess! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 21

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

1K notes · View notes

titanic-angel · 10 months

Text

мιgυel o'нara х F!reader

◥︎ 『 coғғee ︎pт.1 』︎ ◣

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

ѕυммary ➞︎ yoυ вrιng мιgυel coғғee тo нelp нιм тнroυgн a long worĸ nιgнт

warnιngѕ ➞︎ none

noтeѕ ➞︎ part 2 is up ❤︎

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

The evening air was so dry in the summer, and the silence that invited itself into the coffee room buried deep in your skin. The tiles felt cold under your slippers, the setting sun stealing the heat and light from every inch of the room.

You let out a harsh breath, pouring the deep brown liquid into the two cups, staining the white glass with caffeine and steam.

You, Jess, and Peter B had made an agreement since your involvement in the Spider Society had started.

Miguel’s workaholism caused long periods of time, sometimes days, where he wouldn’t even leave his lair, chest deep in his own mind and perfectionism. You all initially believed that his inhumane attributes gave him the stamina to last weeks without rest, but after catching him in deep sleep on his own computer, you realized the goliath wasn’t, in fact, invincible.

So, like any good friends (although Miguel never really used those terms), you took shifts bringing him coffee. With the mugs, Peter and Mayday brought him laughter (all of which was their own, but there wasn’t an indication he didn’t appreciate it), Jess brought him a tough love and a listening ear that fueled his work and you…

Well you weren’t sure what you offered.

You never left without a conversation- and maybe a little coffee yourself. Sometimes he would explain whatever anomaly had taken his attention for the hour, or he would stay silent, listening to you talk about your own day, slightly less exhausting but much more exciting.

Most times, however, you’d give him his coffee, and without saying much, he would look at you.

You are convinced more and more each time that, years ago, his eyes were more brown than they were red. Deep bronze like the color of the coffee in his cup. Younger than they are now. Maybe it was his exhaustion seeping through his irises, but something in the way he looked at you…it felt softer.

Kinder.

You shook off the image as your slippers padded against the hallway marble, the once lively hub now hushed to an empty whisper.

Jess had gone to her universe, undoubtedly resting her weary body, and Peter B eagerly ran home to his beloved red-heads. Homes filled, endlessly, with reunions, warm meals and kisses doused in exhaustion and a love unique to them.

You were happy for them, but you would be lying if you told yourself that you weren’t envious.

Quietly, secretly, you much preferred the hub over your own home, it’s thrum of life filling the emptiness of your crammed apartment. It was depressing to go home to silence after a day of action, which meant many nights you slept in your office, feigning the stress of work and battles to avoid questions from your peers.

You stepped over stray wires and scraps of metal, amongst other abandoned equipment you were sure meant something, once. The dark room was illuminated in neon, flashing lights pulsing across the floor and ceiling.

His gigantic platform came into view, hovering over the pitch floor. The familiar sight of him, surrounded by yellow holograms, greeted your eyes with a brightness that made you squint, vision adjusting to the light.

You caught the butt-end of a conversation, Lyla glitching around his head with attitude. You kept your mouth shut, a little curious to hear their idle chat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Miguel said, flatly.

“Don’t play stupid, I’m an incredibly intelligent A.I. I know fondness when I see it.”

“She brings me coffee- that’s all.”

You paused, muscles tense and the suggestion that they were talking about you.

“I don’t know Miguel~. Peter B and Jess do the same and you aren’t as soft with them.”

“I am not soft!”

“Sure, sure.”

Lyla’s hologram stuttered, and she suddenly focused you. Even from far below, you recognized her mischievous grin.

“Well, I’m feeling awfully tiered. It’s very late y’know! I’ll just let you do your thing!”

“But you don’t-“ Miguel followed her line of sight. He looked down at you with surprise, and you sent him an awkward wave through the cup handle.

“Bye!” Lyla’s drawn out y’s echoed even as she disappeared, Miguel’s hand swiping at the air before she vanished.

He let out a harsh sigh, and you slung up to his platform, handing him a cup. He looked at you again, that faint brown sparkling clearer tonight.

Strange.

“Thank you.”

You nodded, leaning against his table.

“Long night again?” You asked, thumb tracing the smooth glass of the handle.

Miguel nodded, letting another exhausted sigh escape his chest. “Yes.”

You waited for more, but it never came, Miguel shifting near awkwardly as he clicked on the screens with his free hand.

You nodded slowly, taking a sip of your cup. You shuddered, unfamiliar with the pure caffeine. You looked down at your cup, dark brown looking back.

Oh shit.

You watched in short-lived anticipation as he took a sip of your cup. He’s face scrunched in surprise, as if the sweetness of sugar and cream was completely foreign to him.

He looked at you, the red in his eyes more prominent now. Your cheeks strained, but soon the ballon of laughter burst from your chest.

It bounced off the dark walls, echoing around the both of you. You closed your eyes, squeezing out tears as you gripped his desk, laughter shaking your core.

When you regained yourself, you slowly sat up, wiping your wet cheeks and grinning ear to ear. You sighed, small laughs residing with your quickened breath.

“Oh, Miguel you should’ve see your-“

You stopped.

Miguel was smiling.

Well, in the generous sense of the word. Although it wasn’t bright like Peter B’s or gentle like Jess, it was genuine. His eyes crinkled, his lips drawn into a gentle upturn, highlighting his dimples.

Your shocked face must have startled it, because it quickly disappeared, now taught in a hardened, neutral line.

You smiled at him empathetically, slightly guilty you had embarrassed him. You reached out your hand, beckoning your drink.

“Here…let’s switch.”

You fingers brushed at the exchange, and you blushed, the warmth of his skin penetrating your own. If he noticed, he didn’t let it show, taking a quiet sip of his flavorless, bitter coffee.

An awkward silence fell over the two of you, agonizingly different from the laughter just seconds before.

You were beginning to think that he really only was fond of you because you brought him coffee. Sure, you had polite conversation but it never really passed surface level. Not to mention you always initiated it. Maybe Miguel was just playing along, desperately waiting for you to leave him to his work and study.

You sighed, your tone possibly letting on to more than you would’ve liked. You stood, flexing your legs and taking a sip from your cooling coffee, ready to breathe air that wasn’t so endlessly stiff.

“Why- why do you drink coffee with so much sweetness in it?”

You paused, looking at Miguel with surprise. He’d never asked you a question like that. A question about you.

“I uh- well,” you laughed a little bit, still a little startled at the sudden interjection, “black coffee is too bitter for me. The sugar and cream lets me enjoy it.”

“But coffee is meant to energize you, you aren’t supposed to enjoy it.”

You lifted a skeptical brow. “That’s a pretty serious take, don’t you think?”

Miguel paused, lips pressed together in thought before he replied, “I’m a serious guy.”

You laughed, a little quieter now, leaning back onto the table. But this time, closer to him. If you were paying attention, the way his eyes looked at your new position might of told you he noticed.

“I gathered.”

Silence fell over the two of you like a weighted blanket. But now, you had hope that he might want this conversation to continue. That he liked it- you.

“How about this Mr. Serious,” you leaned in, “I’ll give your black coffee another shot if you do the same for my sugar and cream.”

He scoffed, but when the corners of his mouth quirked up you knew the proposition interested him- if only a little bit.

“Absolutely not. I already did try it.”

“First impressions aren’t always accurate, y’know.” You shook your mug, the light brown liquid creating a small whirlpool.

“Try it? For me?”

He glanced at you, and although you thought yourself educated on his eyes and their looks, you were stumped by this one. It was entirely alien to you- there was something in it that you couldn’t place.

You liked it.

He let out a sigh, and held his hand out. You grinned, taking his mug and swapping it for your own.

You both took a sip, and you forced yourself not to wrinkle your nose.

His coffee was extremely bitter- as close as coffee could get to the bean. If his scowl and general demeanor was grown and grind into a beverage, his drink of choice is what it would taste like.

However, it was extremely warm. Somehow it hadn’t cooled off in the fifteen minutes since you had poured it. It’s bitter bliss seeped down your throat and made home in your chest. It was almost calming.

You opened your eyes, surprised to be as content as you were with the drink.

You glanced at Miguel, whose lips were pulled into a tight line. His brows were drawn in thought, eyes glimmering in the hologram light.

“Well?” You asked, rocking on your heels.

“You first.”

You paused, running your tongue over you teeth to remember. “It was a bit gross. But honestly? No bad.”

He nodded, and sighed. “Yours wasn’t….bad either.”

You gasped, a wide smile spreading across your face in stunned victory. “So you liked it.”

“I never said that.” He said, narrowing his brows.

You raised yours. “Didn’t have too.”

He shook his head, handing you the coffee mug. You looked at him as if to ask are you sure? To which he rolled his eyes and pushed it closer to your chest.

You sighed, taking his cup and swapping mugs for the last time. When you looked up at him, sending him a gentle smile, you noticed a thin line of cream that lined his dark lips. You stifled your laughter, stepping forward to a clueless and confused Miguel.

“What are you-“

“Stay put, you have a little-“

You brought your hand up to his face, cradling is course skin under your palm. Your movement stuttered, just for a moment, savoring the feeling of his rough jaw.

You lifted a gentle thumb, your touch but a whisper on his skin as wiped the sweetness from his upper lip. Contrary to his jaw, his lips were soft under your print, molding to your movement with ease.

You imagine they’d taste like coffee.

You paused, your eyes drifting from his lips to his eyes. When they met yours, they were the softest brown you’d ever remember seeing them. It could be how close you were, feeling his slow breath on your nose. It could be how small, short the moment was, catching his facade in a moment of weakness.

But you think, hopefully, foolishly, that it might be how good it felt- to be this close.

You drew your hand away, still staring at the warmth. You settled yourself on the floor, holding your cup with both hands, the once steaming glass now a cold comparison to his face.

“You…you had some cream left on your face.” You laughed weakly, your gaze looking to the side. “I didn’t want Lyla to make fun of you.”

You paused, uncomfortable with the silence your created.

“Sorry.”

Miguel stared at you for a moment, with that same glimmer you couldn’t quite place. He cleared is throat, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips.

“It’s- okay…I-“ He paused, eyes finding your again, “thank you.”

He had whispered, speaking as though if he has said it any louder he would’ve scared you away. It was so- gentle compared to the gruffness of his voice. Warm.

The silence that followed was completely novel from the past dips in conversation. It was full of tension, thick and suffocating. It felt as if you had swallowed cement, every breath trapped in your collarbone and buried in your throat.

You stepped back, your vision so deep in his own- their intensity making it feel as though there wasn’t anything else to look at. Even in their softer colors, they were so deeply overwhelming it felt like they had woken something visceral in you. It wasn’t fear, or terror-

It was fondness.

“Well- I think I need to get my own rest,” you tore your gaze from his, setting your coffee down on the table next to him, “I won’t be needing this- I don’t want caffeine dreams. You’re welcome to finish it- now that you like it. A little.”

You smiled up at him, the thrum of your heart and the heat of your breath tickling your skin.

“Goodnight, Miguel.”

His chest rumbled, preparing to speak, before he sighed quietly and quickly, another genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Goodnight.”

You took one last look at the brown- intimate and tailored to yours. One look at the coffee cups, different in every sense but comforting none the less.

One look at the man who may have just given you the home you’d been envious of.

As you slung off into the the void, you smiled at it all, welcoming the shudders of warmth that pooled in your stomach at the revelation.

︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

The next morning, you woke up in your office yet again, the early morning chill crawling up your spine and beckoning you to wake.

The first thing your eyes were met with was your mug, matte in the morning light.

It was empty, a yellow note rested under it.

I didn’t want it to go to waste.

︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

Part 2

2K notes · View notes

qwimchii · 6 months

Text

𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 (pt 2) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 —𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘸𝘤 — 3.1k

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘯𝘯𝘯, 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢 & 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘺(𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰), 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳

you left that meeting without exchanging a word with Simon. he didn’t seem to mind.

by the time you had left, he was swarmed by the girls at the meeting, all curious and wanting his attention. Maya included, much to Sarah’s amusement. not to yours at all.

the rest of the meeting had been a drone of done anything fun for the past week? have you set any new routines and practices? have you been utilizing any constructive coping strategies we learned about in your routines?

that was usually your favorite part about the meeting. with Simon’s presence a steaming reek right in your peripheral, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, you couldn’t get out more than a choked i’ve been good.

although, in comparison, Kate could barely coax a word from Simon. most of his responses came in the form of a blink, a shrug, or shifting in that rickety, creaking chair.

walking down the familiar road to the church, this time mid-day, but the air just as cutting and cold, you pulled out your phone to mull over the brief text conversation between yourself and Simon.

-1pm tmrw church

-Sure.

and that was that. Kate had practically strangled you over a phone call to actually text the thing and agree on a place and time to meet to plan for the upcoming fall projects.

your eyes ran over the phone screen again.

Sure.

you rolled your eyes. even that response felt arrogant and asshole-ish.

you knew your mind, in all its immaturity, was twisting the text and pulling it apart, trampling it, and spitting it back out. you knew because it was something Kate chided you about time and time again.

you couldn’t find it in you to care.

you pushed through the doors of the church, entering the chapel, descending down the stairs, to find Simon brooding by the double-doors of the meeting room.

he was leaned back against the faded walls, donning that all-black attire, hood up and masked, earbuds in and eyes closed. he looked virtually the same as he had only several days ago, save for the black baseball cap peeking out of his hood.

as you neared, you swallowed hard, stomach flurrying erratically. you probably would’ve turned tail and ditched him if his eyes didn’t snap open, pushing off the wall and arms stiff by his side.

you stopped when there was an awkwardly marginal distance between the two of you.

“hi.”

silence.

you fumbled with your phone with a sigh, scrolling through the document Kate shared with you, squinting at the screen, and wholly ignoring Simon’s dark eyes on you.

every year, the city hosts a community-led halloween festival for children with table events, performers, music, mini-haunted houses, and more. it stretches for a couple blocks and wraps around the church—where you and Simon had been assigned pumpkin carving and costume coordination by Kate.

“so we’ve got pumpkin carving and—”

“costume coordination,” he finished, hands clenched by his sides. you eyed his gloves curiously, then roamed up to his masked face.

with a bitterness, you realized he kind of looked like a serial killer. but, biting down on your tongue, you chose not to speak on it, only pocketed your phone with a nod.

“right. costumes this way,” you gestured down the hallway, and Simon fell into step just a few strides behind you.

to fill the terse silence, you fumbled around for small talk.

“so you got a day job?”

if he had agreed to meet at one o’clock on a weekday, you assumed his military job might be something with a peculiar irregularity, much to your chagrin. you had hoped he would say no to the meeting.

but he just shook his head. “i’m on leave. been here since last week.”

your heart soared, and you bit down on your lip to smother a smile as you opened the door at the end of the hallway. “does that mean you’ll be going back soon?”

flicking on the flights, the storage room flooded with an artificial fluorescent glare. you reached for a familiar storage container beneath a table covered with dusty white sheets. hauling it towards you, you paused when you realized Simon hadn’t followed you into the room.

you looked over your shoulder. he stared back at you from where his massive frame crowded the doorway, hands clenched by his sides.

you swallowed hard. you were alone in this church with Simon. just you and a man.

and he was blocking the only exit.

an alarming flash ran through you—hot and sharp and leaving you breathless.

“did i do something?”

you stood, steadying your labored breath like Kate had taught you.

“yes.”

he stared at you for a long moment before huffing out, eyes flashing as he stepped into the room and away from the entrance. you exhaled, rough and shaky.

that burn of his prying gaze built a familiar anger in your lungs, and you eyed him with narrowed eyes. “what?”

he shook his head, bending down for a box beside yours. “nothing.”

you cocked your head. “something funny?”

“no.” he rose to his full height, a box between his hands, and head craned as he looked down at you. dark eyes murky and quiet.

your hands balled into fists. he really was massive.

“you’re just bad at lying.”

your brow furrowed and he gestured with a dip of his head towards your stance, and your gaze followed his, down to the stiffness of your body and your hands clenched in your pockets.

you blinked. when had you done that?

immediately, you jerked them out of your pockets and smoothed your clammy hands down your thighs.

“let’s just—” you cleared your throat, turning back to the boxes, “—let’s just get this over with and leave.”

you could see Simon’s stare from your peripheral. “alright.”

carrying the boxes down the hallway, his footsteps those eerie quiet thuds behind you, you turned to push through the door with your back and strode to settle the box at the center of the floor, rummaging through the contents and spreading them out over the carpet. you picked up a little black number draped with longer, jagged pieces along its hems. a child size witch’s dress.

Simon settled beside you a comfortable distance away, watching your movement with a careful eye.

“okay so—” you turned the dress over in your hands, inspecting its light wear and tear, “—i’ll take half of the costumes to sew. you take the other half to work on and next meeting we’ll—”

the deep timbre of his voice cut you off. “sew?”

the words died in your throat, head whipping to Simon who held up a toddler’s pumpkin costume that was dwarfed by the size of his hands.

you struggled for words, choking out, “you don’t know how to sew?”

his eyes met yours. “not clothing.”

flabbergasted, you pressed, “and Kate assigned you to costume coordination?”

he nodded, beginning to pull out his phone and show you Kate’s document you presumed, but you waved a hand at him, a new berth of stress weighing down your shoulders.

“no, no it’s fine just…” you held your forehead, jaw clenched tight. “i’ll teach you.”

speaking it was like a death sentence, and you only wallowed in your own self-pity. how could Kate do this to you?

everyone assigned costume coordination had to know how to sew. it was part of the requirements.

unless Kate pulled some strings.

you watched Simon spread out the costumes over the carpet like you had.

“did Kate put you up to this?”

Simon didn’t even pause to acknowledge you, picking at the garments until they were in neat rows.

“no.”

“so you joined the group… on your own accord?” the idea of it was staggering. Simon had looked downright trodden when sharing about himself with the group—not giving up much more than that he watched tv sometimes and read books sometimes. which, in your opinion, was what most people did in their freetime.

“not exactly,” he said, voice gruff, and you eyed him for a long moment before sighing, careful not to push him further.

you reached over for the costumes of his that needed the most attention. “i’ll take the most beat up ones—”

he ignored you, eyes trained on the clothes. “no. we’re a team. i can pull my weight.”

a bitter taste flooded your mouth. team.

“right, well, there are lots of youtube tutorials.”

he just nodded, gathering up the items and throwing them back in the box.

you heaved a sigh. “i’m assuming you don’t have sewing supplies?”

“i can buy some.”

you shook your head. “no need. next meeting i can bring some of mine. i have extra.”

“thought you said we needed to work on them by next meeting?”

his question was pure but it still set that irked fire rolling through your stomach. shoving the costumes back into your box, you mourned his attention to detail. you always thought he was only half-listening.

with your long silence, he offered, “i’ll buy some supplies.”

that ugly feeling trickled down to your chest. guilt. regret. “no just…”

you screwed your eyes shut, like couldn’t believe you were saying this.

“i live just down the block. just come to my place now and i can give you some if you really want to get a head start.”

you ignored his curious gaze as you picked up the box, and trudged your way out of the meeting room.

“alright.”

he followed you.

the entire walk to your apartment was silent.

a creeping awkward, muddled feeling prickled along your spine. it was almost unbearable, but the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot was more comforting than scrambling around for small talk.

arms beginning to ache with the effort of carrying the box of costumes, you felt a burst of relief at the sight of your brick red apartment complex just ahead. your steps quickened now, and you didn’t bother to see if Simon was following you closely or not. from the sound of his slow breath just beyond your shoulder, with a shudder, you could assume that he was.

you hopped up the steps, putting down the box and fumbling around in your bag for the keys to shove them into the old lock, scrambling around with half-frozen hands till it gave way. you stepped inside, not waiting to hold the door open for him as you rubbed your arms with a shudder. the heat blasted your numb face in the entrance hall, the white radiator working furiously by the door.

“cold?”

you jolted, turning sharply to him as he closed the door, looking completely content after walking a block in such low temperatures. maybe, you were just being overdramatic. or maybe it was because Simon was wearing a good couple more layers than you were.

“yeah,” you said, “are you not?”

he just shrugged. “got used to it from work.”

you found that strangely ominous, so you just gave him a curt nod in reply, picking up the box of costumes and turning to walk up the creaky stairs to the upper floor of the old building. you strode down the carpeted hall till you reached a faded red door.

your jerked your head to it, mumbling awkwardly, this is my place, before struggling with the keys again to open it. strangely, your heart thudded against your rib cage during the movements, prickling at the thought of his dark eyes watching you.

when you pushed the heavy door open, shoving your foot in the crack, you took one look inside and decided that you didn’t want Simon stepping anywhere near your home. especially not if you were alone. especially not if you were alone with a man.

“uh…” you trailed off, mouth opening and closing, then turning to him, leaning against the wall casually, then looked away, unable to make eye contact.

he shifted in your peripheral. “i’ll wait out here.”

you almost jolted at that, an airy bubble of shock breaking into your words as you gave him a wide-eyed stare. “are you sure?”

he nodded and you mumbled a slow apology, stepping inside your apartment with the box of costumes and letting the front door glide shut. that was… strange.

with a hefty sigh, you put down the box on the kitchen table, brushing the feeling away, and stripped yourself of your jacket, moving into your bedroom.

you pulled open the drawers of the storage containers on your desk, shuffling around for extra sewing supplies that you could spare and shoving them all into an extra bag that you didn’t use anymore. that bag happened to be an old, pink hello kitty zip-up pouch from middle school.

you hoped Simon wouldn’t be too irked by it as you zipped it up, then chided yourself for caring if he felt mad at you at all.

at that, you paused at your desk, fingers fiddling with the zipper as your mind whizzed through some thoughts. Simon hadn’t made any unnecessary advancements towards you. he hadn’t waltzed into your home like it was your own. he hadn’t pushed your boundaries when you obviously displayed them. he didn’t dump the workload on you because Kate had given him an assignment out of his skillset.

he wasn’t even that talkative. you couldn’t even imagine him as being touchy. in fact, he was a good four feet from you at almost all times.

except when you were in that church basement.

you steadied yourself with deep, slow inhales, just like Kate had taught you. was this what Kate meant by trying to get better? forcing you to work with a man who she knew wouldn’t cross your boundaries?

and what did that mean for Simon? did he have something to work out over being near… women?

your support group specialized in a range of things. mostly, victims of sexual trauma. though, not all girls in the group came for that reason.

there was a bitter taste in your mouth. for some reason, it hadn’t dawned on you that Simon might’ve come, albeit seemingly dragged along by Kate, to the group for the same reason as you.

as a victim of sexual trauma.

you cursed Kate and all her conspiring, reverse-psychology, psychic plans, quickly striding from your bedroom to the front door. you paused at the entrance, hand twitching over the knob, before twisting the door open with an apology already on your lips.

the words died in your throat at the sight of your new, brutish neighbor just steps from the door, conversing with Simon in an excited, low voice.

when he noticed you, a smile bloomed across his face. “hey, lass! how’re ye doin’?”

you almost withered. this was exactly the kind of men you avoided. talkative and touchy.

you cracked the door open a little wider, but not enough so that he could pull you into a friendly hug like he had done a couple days ago without warning. the memory of it had you in shivers behind the shield of the door.

Simon stood with crossed arms a step away from your neighbor, eyeing you with a dark curiosity that you chose to ignore.

“Johnny,” you chewed out, skipping any formalities. though it didn’t matter, because no matter how rude you could get, the scot would beam at you anyways.

“i was just talkin’ to yer friend here,” he said, slapping Simon on the back, who didn’t even flinch. “we’re coworkers! who would’ve guessed?”

he laughed, long and hearty, and you grimaced. “great.”

snaking a hand out of the crack of your front door, you handed the hello kitty pouch to Simon. the black mask shrouded half his face, but from the way his brows pinched together, eyes flitting up in a hard glance before glaring back down at the pink, worn thing, you thought he seemed irked. swallowing, you felt an ounce of guilt as Johnny watched the whole interaction with glee.

“i ken ye’ were a hello kitty guy, Ghost.”

“fuckin’ hell, Johnny,” he grumbled under his breath, snatching up the pouch from your hand.

you almost felt bad as Simon shoved it into the pocket of his sweatshirt, feeling as though you may have opened up a slew of new ways for Johnny to poke at Simon.

he turned sharply on his heel, looking like he was escaping the conversation just as much as you wanted to right now but—

you pushed open the door a tad wider, knocking into Johnny carelessly, who blundered back with a surprised oof.

“wait!”

Simon slowly turned, peering at you from over his shoulder.

you hesitated, knowing Johnny’s eyes were picking apart the situation with an intense scrutiny that made you feel like shrinking into dust.

“i…”

you thought back to how you had felt a few minutes ago—the apology extracted from the simmering guilt in your gut. you looked over Simon, the tall, muscular strength of him, and felt something dark and wet twist your heart.

maybe not guilt, but sympathy.

the words of apology were on your lips, but you could see Johnny leaning forward into your peripheral, so instead you said, “are you busy tomorrow?”

he blinked at you. “no.”

“do you live far from here?”

“ten minutes by walk.”

not far at all, you realized, with a breath of relief. “there’s a cafe on the corner of smith and wellerstation. i work till six. i can teach you how to sew then.”

he just stared at you. “you don’t have to.”

i want to, you wanted to say.

but you never worked well with words or apologies, and after observing Simon, just in the short time you had met him, he seemed to share somewhat of the same qualities.

“just be there,” you shot out quickly with an annoyed flush, and then slammed the door shut.

standing in your apartment for a moment, a silence filling the air, you deliberated before shoving the door open again, nearly missing Johnny by a hair.

he startled when you stuck your head out to peer at him.

“have a good evening,” you snapped, and he opened his mouth to say something, maybe shocked because you had never taken such formality to be nice to him before, but you shut the door in his face before he could get anything out.

finally, at peace and alone in your own apartment, you trudged over to grab the box of costumes and hauled it by your couch before stepping into your bedroom to snatch up the bag of your sewing supplies.

you sank onto the couch with a deep sigh, fiddled with the remote to switch on an episode of that new k-drama on netflix.

restitching the fraying seams of the little witch dress, eyes flitting between the fabric in your hands and the tv screen, as much as you bit back the thoughts with your lower lip trapped beneath your teeth, your mind drifted far away to think of the man you’d be teaching to sew tomorrow.

this chapter is pretty short and not interesting imo, but just wait till the next one oml 😵‍💫 shit goes down

wait also please ignore the gaping, massive plot holes in this story. half of it doesn’t really make any sense but likkkeeeee Simon x halloween x therapy support group had me in a chokehold… it’s giving the faults in our stars or smth but i love writing this au

i say that: 1. kate has retired/stopped working in military 2. i really dont know if this is taking place in america or uk bc in my head its very much america w like halloween type stuff and all the minor characters are american in my brain so pls just ignore everything that does not make sense ty 😇 3. oh also i like to think that johnny moved near simon just to terrorize him 😇 4. ok anyways ive been rambling on for so long i hope you enjoy this part!! 💞

taglist: @kenma-izhu @actuallyhiswife@froggielottiee @neenieweenie @delaynew @ilovehyperfixating @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @tomorrowseverything @moonlqths@ivybeeloved @babygirl-riley @keiva1000 @arminarlertssword @crowbird @jasonloveclub @karurururu

@embers-of-alluring @newsies-pape-girl @suhmie @amberpanda99 @mystsee @cosmoscoffeee @hunterofhonor @wawuwe @kunikku @corvusmorte @hearts4sky @aloudplace @justletmelivethanks @shadowdaddysposts @leclercdream @ayanokomu @thedevillovesflowers @moonstonedeluluera

1K notes · View notes

yaekiss · 1 year

Note

hi so [holds head in hands] no pressure to fulfill this request of course but like. heizou, kazuha, and the wanderer (separate) going down on you lol,, haha,, bonus points if it’s their first time doing anything with you,, or anyone, for that matter,,, (afab mc preferred ^^)

oh and since you’re not familiar with heizou’s character yet, i have some ideas … i know a lot of people make him out to be super experienced and like yeah. no shame to that. that’s epic. but god. look. listen… there’s untapped potential here [shakes you aggressively] heizou, aware of his own flirty reputation and also wanting to impress you, pretends to know what he’s doing and acts all confident like yeah. i got this bbg. i fucked around already. mhm. totally. i’m gonna give you the time of your life fr. yet he just… mentally bluescreens when it actually gets to the real deal. his face heats up, his mouth goes slack, and he stares like an idiot. internal monologue is probably: what do i do. what do i DO. i do not want to fuck this up HOLY FUCKKKKKKKKKK. eventually you get sick of his virgin act and decide to help him out by sitting on his face and riding the fuck out of him. yeah

— 🌻 nonnie (i hope you’re well!)

𝑯𝒐𝒕 𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒆?

꩜ Room Content: Dom! AFAB! Reader! x Sub! Heizou, Sub! Kazuha, Sub! AFAB! Wanderer (separate), cunnilingus (reader receiving in all 3 parts, implied giving in Wanderer's part), you ride their faces 😼, all 3 of them are inexperienced, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: Thank you for waiting 🌻 anon!!! Ran out of steam after Heizou's part so Kazuha's and Wanderer's parts are in bulleted points orz... Anyways, here's ur order of the an3mo boys eating you out ♡ Hope you enjoy hehe !!

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟕𝟐𝟒: 𝑺. 𝑯𝒆𝒊𝒛𝒐𝒖

After countless weeks (weeks!) of chasing each other around, Heizou’s cryptic riddles and your vague replies for him to unravel, he finally has you where he wants you! (Or do you have him right where you want him?)

Though, you need to give him credit where credit is due. Everything in the room has been set up to your liking and the thought of how much effort he put into this has your heart fluttering a bit.

“Well? Impressed?” There’s a cocky smirk on Heizou’s face and you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. You’re aware of the reputation he’s amassed on the streets, rumours of how he’s a casanova unlike no other, how he can charm anyone into his arms. Frankly, you couldn’t really see the supposed suave flirtatious persona in him. Like, are we talking about the same Heizou? The man who made you go on a wild goose chase through the town, only to reach a scenic lake and have the moment ruined by him falling into the water while he’s excitedly waving to you from afar. (Though his shirt got soaked through and you got to see his cute nipples… Hmm, maybe the rumours have some truth to them after all.) But you’re not one to back down without a fight.

“I’ll give you my answer in the morning so you better make tonight count, detective.” Slowly shedding your clothes, you eye him with a brimming anticipation as he watches, his own eyes glued to your mesmerising figure.

After you lay back on the bed, Heizou wastes no time in diving between your legs, trailing featherlight kisses up from your calf to your inner thighs. He slowly inches his way up towards your core before, all of a sudden, all his previous actions stop. You can feel his hands on you falter a bit as the bed shifts and dips as he sits back on his knees. Puzzled by the change in the mood, you sit up to check on Heizou but the sight you see is not one you were exactly expecting.

His face is glowing with how red and blushy he’s gotten, hidden behind his hands as he tries to hide the expression he’s making. Clearing his throat and turning away from your gaze, he gulps audibly.

“Just… just give me a second to c-compose myself…” An odd awkwardness filters through the air and you can’t help but quirk an eyebrow up at this (not so) unforeseen turn of events.

“Why, is my little casanova scared? Where did your previous bravado go?” Teasing him further, you crawl seductively towards him, taking full amusement in watching him squirm nervously, peeking at you through the gaps of his fingers.

“I’m not… scared… what are you talking about? Ahahaha…” His strained laughter trails off at the end and it’s the last straw for you. Annoyance taking hold of you, you grab onto his shoulders and push him down so that he’s lying on the bed, olive eyes wild and bewildered as they stare up at you. For the first time in a while, he has no idea what to expect and frankly, he didn’t think he’d be so turned on by it.

Before he can register what’s happening, mind hazy with lust and desire, you’ve planted yourself on his face. Tongue instinctively darting out, he tastes your slick and the mix of a whine and a groan escapes him. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you grind down on his face harder to chase your own climax.

Heizou’s pussy eating skills are honestly pitiful but he almost makes up for it through his sheer enthusiasm alone. Messy slurps and moans fill the room as he clumsily laps up at your folds, drenching his mouth and chin. Your thighs clamp down on either side of his head but he shows no signs of slowing down or even stopping for air.

“I-it’s all… hahh… bark and no bite with- ah! -you isn’t it, Heizou?” All you get in return is a pathetic whine as he shifts so his nose nudges up against your clit. And that’s what it takes for you to cum. You ride out your high, your pace slowing down while you try to catch your breath. As your gaze refocuses, you catch a glimpse of the damp patch growing at the crotch area of Heizou’s pants and you laugh at his dazed drunken expression when you get off of him.

Looks like you weren’t the only one who came.

“I’m impressed with your performance for now, detective. But for higher accuracy, what say we go for a few more rounds?”

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟏𝟎𝟐𝟗: 𝑲. 𝑲𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒉𝒂

He’s probably the one who brings it up after overhearing one of the many raunchy conversations between Captain Beidou and the Tianquan (someone please buy him noise-cancelling earplugs)

The more he thinks about it, the more the idea seems viable. Besides, if it doesn’t work out in the end, the two of you would have learnt more about your tastes and preferences!

But seriously, he needs to pick a better time to spring his suggestions on you. While dining at a food stall, he nonchalantly asks you, “Would you mind if I… went down on you… the next time we make love?”

You almost did a spit take at his words

Internally cursing Beidou (how dare she unknowingly corrupt your adorable Kazuha before you can!!), you swallow your beverage before replying

“If it’s what you want, I’m not opposed to it darling”

The smile he flashes you is blinding and the moment would’ve been more tender if it weren’t for the previous lascivious question

Sigh, still, how could you say no to such a cute lover

He’s another inexperienced one, years of drifting around and never really settling down with anyone means that he’s physically exposed to a lot of things for the first time with you

But he’s open minded, always open to trying out new experiences and kinks while making sure the both of you are comfortable

While he eats you out, he gets a little intoxicated by you, enjoying how you feel against his tongue, savouring every inch of you

Nothing else in the world matters right now expect pleasing you and making you cum on his face

Although you’re the one riding on him, somehow he’s the louder one????

He lets out muffled breathy puffs and moans, whining and squirming under you as he licks and indulges in you, occasionally calling out your name interspersed with, “More!” or “I love you!”

Feeling your orgasm building up, you gyrate your hips downwards to drive his tongue deeper in you

You cream on his face and he doesn’t hesitate to clean you up, not wasting a single drop (he’s really such a dear!)

The next day, Beidou gives him a firm slap on his back, chuckling about how she’s “glad that he’s getting some, but please keep it down, the other crewmates are trying to sleep”

Kazuha is understandably mortified and downright embarrassed at her words

He looks in your direction for some help but all you do is just laugh and think to yourself:

How can you make him scream your name next time?

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟏𝟎𝟑: 𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒓

Granted, you were a little tipsy after a night out of drinking with Kaveh but you just had to bring it up to Wanderer as he’s hauling your drunk ass back home

“Hey… how about… hic!... you eat me out next time…? Hmm?”

He’s so thankful that you passed out in his arms before you could see his face explode into a shade of crimson at your words

“Seriously, how are you so shameless?”

When you wake up the next morning and go about your day, you can’t help but notice that your sweetheart has been staring at you nonstop (from across the room, sitting opposite you at the dining table, you name it)

However, whenever you try to ask him about it, he scoffs and hastily brushes you off, tilting his hat to avert your eyes while he rushes off (before inevitably coming back to continue staring at you 🙄)

Sick and tired of his antics, you manage to corner him and interrogate (read: bully) an answer out of the man

After he spills the beans on how he's been fantasising about what you said last night, you turn your gaze downwards and true to his words, he’s already drenched in his shorts

“To think the high and mighty Wanderer would be so affected by a passing comment, how lewd!”

Things progress quickly and the two of you find your way into the bedroom, lips locked in a heated kiss with hands roaming each other’s body

As you break from the kiss, he lays back and prepares for you to ride his face, resolve steeled even if he’s never done this before

You hover over his face since you’re worried about potentially suffocating him but he clicks his tongue and straight up says, “Are you looking down on me? I obviously have no need for air unlike you mortals do. Sit. On. My. Face.”

Hands grabbing your thighs, he plants you down on his face and goes to town

He eats you out with a feverish devotion, spurred on by the moans and praises that slip past your lips as if they’re the most divine hymns he’s ever heard

(If you’re his god, then he’s more than happy to be your throne!)

His eyes roll back when you tug on his hair as you cum, the pain mixed with pleasure muddies his senses but it doesn’t stop him from slurping up your release

Shakily pulling yourself off of his face, you think you hear a whine from him, violet eyes teary and pupils blown wide

You push his legs apart and settle yourself in front of his wet cunt, your hot breath fans across his sensitive folds and he has to stop himself from rolling his hips down to meet your face

“You were so good for me sweetheart, now let me return the favour yeah?”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

2K notes · View notes

bouncybongfairy · 7 months

Text

All Around Me

Void Stiles x Fem Reader

Summary: After having a bit too much fun at a friend's birthday party, you go home and wind down with a bath and a Teen Wolf marathon. You start reading a steamy fanfic about Void Stiles, which causes you to have an acid-induced trip about hooking up with him.

Word Count: 2.5k+

(!This is a smut fanfic, proceed with caution!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It took you a couple of times to put the key in the door but you got there eventually. You were coming home from your friend’s birthday. It was almost 3am and you were cross-faded, starving and your heels were killing your feet. After dropping your purse on the kitchen island you started drunkenly wrestling the heels off your feet. The fridge was your next stop, pulling out leftover whatever and sticking it in the microwave. As you waited you pulled your food out of the microwave and headed to your bedroom. It was kind of nice having the entire house to yourself. Your parents were gone, visiting your aunt who’d just given birth. You sat on your mother’s bed and started shoving the leftovers into your mouth. The nightstand starts vibrating, prompting you to check your phone.

Heyy, glad ur home safe <3 just reminding u we dropped acid like 30 mins before u ubered home just be careful! (we should have listened to Ashley when she said no more lmao)

You completely forgot about that, at first it made your heart drop but then you realized you would probably be asleep before the effects really kicked in. Your parent’s room was so luxurious and you always looked forward to stealing it when they left. The buzz from being drunk was still there but wasn’t as intense as before. You ran the warm water and started filling the bathtub, it was huge and made you feel so fancy. Bring your hand above the bath, you feel the steam coming off the water. The feeling of washing the makeup off your face was euphoric. It was like the hot water was loosening all your joints and muscles. You kept one of your hands dry to be able to hit your pen and change the music coming from the speaker. After enjoying the bath for a while, you got out and wrapped a towel around yourself. Out of nowhere, your heart starts racing. At first you thought it was from being in the steamy bathroom. You fought through it and did your nightly routine. By the time you made it to your room, you were rolling. You turned on Teen Wolf as background noise, the silence was starting to feel too heavy on your ears. You changed into a big tshirt but didn’t have much mental focus for anything else.

You looked at the T.V and watched Void Stiles take the screen. You began to cry thinking about how sad this part of the plot was. The tears were flooding and you were feeling high off emotion. You pulled out your phone and started to read Void Stiles fanfics. The combination of hearing him through the TV and reading about him was making you feel a combination of scared and excitement. You weren’t really sure if you fell asleep or dissociated but you scared yourself awake. Your eyes immediately flew to what looked like a figure standing in the doorway. It scared the shit out of you, making you jolt and sit up. Your chest was rising and falling at an alarming rate. Its head tilted to the side in an ominous way. Part of you thought you were still drunk and high and that you were hallucinating this appreciation. You threw one of the pillows at it and when the figure turned his head to look at where it landed you gasped and began crying.

“Why are you acting scared?” the man's voice asked. Your hand flew over your mouth and you brought your knees to your chest.

He began walking closer, slowly yet confidently. When he stepped closer, he stopped where the moonlight was coming in from the window. It was Void Stile, part of you felt relief because you figured this had to be a dream. Another part of you was even more freaked out because what the fuck is happening. His skin was pale and had dark red bags underneath his eyes. His hair was disheveled, sticking up and out in several ways. Wearing all black which made him look so much more intimidating. He was walking closer but still had his head tilted to the side. At this point, he was sitting at the foot of the bed, staring you down.

“I asked why are you acting so scared?” he asked again.

“Because you’re scaring me,” you choked out, barely having the ability to form words. It was like your entire body was submerged in ice water, paralyzing you and taking your breath away.

“Oh no, I know you don’t believe that. You were just reading about me. Imagining me doing unspeakable things to you. So again, why are you scared?” he asked again but in a rhetorical way. He stood up so fast that you flinched, he walked over to your desk and picked up the framed picture of your boyfriend.

“Is this your little boyfriend?” he asked while full-on laughing, you could reply verbally and instead shook your head yes.

“Why are you with him if he’s not satisfying you?” he asked.

“He can sat-” you were interrupted by Void grabbing you by the jaw, not painfully but forcefully.

“Why do you keep lying?” he growled.

“H-how would you know if..” you couldn’t even finish your sentence because you were full-on sobbing.

“Do you know what the four things the human brain naturally craves?” he asked. As you shook your head no, he brought his hands up and wiped the tears off your face with his thumb, then licked the tear off his finger.

“Food, water, sleep and sex. Somewhere in the deepest part of your mind, you’re craving sexual gratification that the little boys in your life clearly can’t give you. I mean, why else would you have manifested me? Searched for the most ravid and lascivious versions of me on the internet to gratify your needs? They’re scared to cross a line but that’s what’s different about them to me. I can’t be satisfied until I’ve crossed it,” he was now standing again, towering over you. He was so close that his torso almost touched your nose. You squinted your eyes and turn away without moving your body.

Your ears were burning and you were starting to feel faint. Part of you felt like you couldn’t hear everything he was saying because your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears. He walked over to your dresser, opened the second drawer and grabbed the unopened bottle of Everclear that you were saving for a party coming up. He then walked over to your purse and pulled out a joint, without missing a beat he then walked over to a pair of jeans on the ground and pulled out a lighter. The fact that he knew exactly where everything was truly shook you to your core. You were becoming paranoid, convinced that he could hear your thoughts. He came back on the bed and lit the joint, blowing the smoke right in your face.

“You need to relax, take a drag,” he said, extending his arm and offering the joint. You tried to speak, even though you weren’t quite sure what to say. It was like your mouth physically couldn’t let the words out. He angrily ripped the blanket off your body and threw it across the room with such force it made a thump sound when hitting the wall.

“Do you really want me to forcibly blow the smoke into your mouth? I wouldn’t be surprised but you can just ask,” he said mocking yet angrily. When you reached out to grab it your arms and hands were shaking so badly that you were struggling to get a hold of it.

“You know..” he started as he sat down and brought the joint to your lips because your hands were too shaky to do so for yourself, “your fear is different than other people, there’s a purity to it, almost like an innocence. So much so that I can almost taste its sweetness on my tongue. The havoc and panic that is radiating off your body because part of you knows that I’ll have you but is so confused and scared by my presence,” he said, taking a swig out of the bottle.

He wedged himself between your back and the headboard of the bed. His legs were long, when they were bent his knees were significantly higher than yours. At this point you felt completely drained, still scared but it was like the adrenaline high was coming down a bit. You pulled at one of the strings on the ripped part of his jeans and took the joint from his hand. At this point, you were high enough to convince yourself this was some weird dream because you fell asleep crossfaded. You looked up at the T.V and saw void Stiles, in the scene when he stabbed Scott. You looked back so that you could face him, almost like you were checking if he was still there. His eyes were black, similar to how they looked on stuffed animals. The bags under his eyes were so red that they looked like they might hurt when touched. He was just staring at you, smirking with his head tilted. You leaned back and melded your back to his front, as you did this he slid his hands up your bare thighs. His lips were now pressed against the back of your ear, your pulse quickened when you felt his steady breathing against your skin. The hands on his skin were rough from biting at his nail beds. His breath was slow and steady, you tried to match his pace with his but couldn’t slow your heart rate down. He moved his hands to your arms, running his fingertips from your shoulders to your hands. That was when you realized you’d been subconsciously gripping the towel that you fell asleep in. Unexpectedly he grabbed your wrists and ripped them away from your body causing your towel to fall. At first, you tried to fight against his grip but then realized you didn’t really want to. You moved your hands up slowly until they were at the sides of his head. Running your fingers through his hair gently and cautiously. He let go of your wrists and moved his hands to the sides of your hips. He pulled you against him causing your bare ass to rub against his erection under his jeans. He pressed his lips against your shoulder and let out a groan. He swiftly slides out from behind you and props himself up with his shoulders on top of you. Now on your back, you used your feet trying to push his jeans off. He dropped his head a bit on your shoulder so hard it took your breath away. You gasped and squirmed in pain and in reaction Void pressed his hips into you, keeping you from squirming away.

“How are you ever gonna explain this to whatever the fuck this C stands for,” he said referring to the necklace you had around your neck. He tightens the grip on it and rips it off your neck, crushing it and letting the mangled piece of metal fall to the ground. This caused a change in the atmosphere, it was like the snap of the chain symbolized the breaking of your self-control. He sat up and pulled his pants and boxers down, they were barely past his thighs when you grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him to you. Connecting your lips for the first time, the kiss was more rough than sloppy. His shaft was now pressed against your clit, moving his hips back and forth against you as the kiss deepened. You moaned into his mouth and rocked your hips up to meet his bucks. He moves his elbows so that they are right next to your ears. His fingers running through your hair and gripping onto the strands tightly. He pulled his hips back and thrust himself into you, he moaned and dropped his forehead onto your shoulder. He kept himself still while you fully engulfed him in your heat. Continuously tightening and loosening the grip he had on the fists full of your hair. You were in pure pleasure, purposely tightening and loosening your walls, admiring the feeling of fullness. You knew he was into it because his head was still buried in your shoulder. His mouth open and his bottom lip pressed against your skin as he groaned and growled, a bit of saliva dripping onto your chest. Becoming impatient, you start trusting your hips upward. He jerks his head up so that you’re looking at each other face to face.

“Your eyes are so glossed over, enjoying yourself I see,” he growled as he began rocking his hips back and forth.

“Holy fucking shit,” you moaned out going to tilt your head back but being stopped by the grip he had on your hair.

“Oh no, I wanna see your face. I like watching the raw reactions you have to me,” he snarled as he sped up. Your core felt like it was on fire, burning in a way you’d never felt before. You raked your fingernails down his back, digging in as hard as you can. Instead of wincing like most guys did, he moaned while smirking slightly. He was pounding into you so hard that his hip bones were starting to pierce you with every thrust. The burning feeling inside your stomach was building to a level, your blood felt like fire in the best possible way as you began to cum.

“You have no idea how fucking good it feels to have you spasming around my cock,” he said swiving his hips in circles as he pressed himself as deep as he could into you,

“Fuck I can’t get any closer,” he said while bucking and cumming into you. He was grunting and moaning to your neck, catching his breath for a second or two before continuing. As he started his thrusts up again you started to feel how sensitive you were. After you both had orgasmed there was a slickness that allowed Void to move faster and deeper into you. He took one of your nipples into his mouth and circled his tongue around the peak before biting down.

“Void I’m- it feels so ahh- sensitive,” you said, running your fingers through his hair and bringing him closer but he pulled away so that he was sitting up on his knees. You moaned as he pulled his length out and started massaging your clit with his tip.

“Should I stop? I mean if you’re too sensitive then maybe I shouldn’t make you cum again. Maybe feeling my cock pulse inside you while your wall spasm around me will be too much for you,” he said repeatedly sticking his tip in and out of your slit. You reacted by wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to bring him closer to you which made him chuckle.

“Yeah that’s what I fucking thought,” he said dropping back on top of you and started furiously pounding away at you. You were yelping from pleasure after every thrust, pulling on his hair tightly. You were biting down on your lip so hard that you began to taste blood. When Void noticed, he grabbed you by the jaw and kissed you deeply while maintaining the same pace. Groaning and grunting into your mouth, you could tell he was getting close because his thrusts were becoming more sporadic and sloppy. You could no longer hold your second orgasm back and arched your back while practically screaming. Seeing you in complete ecstasy and submission caused Void to cum, the look in his eyes was feral and completely mesmerized you. It made you feel powerful to see him so tired and drained because of you. He pulled out and laid next to you, propping his head up with his elbow. A couple tears ran down your face simply because of how overstimulating the second orgasm was. He used his finger to wipe away the tears and gave you a kiss on each eyelid.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you whispered, already half asleep.

“Rest now,” and as quickly as he said it, your eyes shot open to your fully lit bedroom. The room looked completely undisturbed which caused you to shoot up. You ran over to your dresser and started throwing the underwear everywhere. When you pulled out the still-sealed bottle of Everclear, you knew it must have been a dream. You sat on your bed and took a minute to think about how real and vivid the entire ordeal felt. After grabbing your pen from your purse, you plop down on your bed to check your socials. As you bring the pen to your lips, it drops out of your hand. You sigh in frustration and go to grab the pen from the ground without looking but end up feeling some type of necklace against your fingertips. When you take a better look at it and realize it’s the crushed necklace from last night.

#teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf smut #void stiles smut #void stiles x reader #void stiles imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski smut #void stiles #dylan o'brien #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o'brian x reader

608 notes · View notes

imtryingbuck · 5 months

Text

Too Late.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n’s Steves girlfriend and she’s been taken by Hydra, will he get to her in time? Will she want to go with him if he does?

Word count: 2,237

Warnings: angst. cheating. nat and steve are terrible people. pregnancy. miscarriage. tiny mention of being sick. swearing. ending is terrible sorry.

A/N: women aren’t failures or less of a woman if they have miscarriages, unfortunately and sadly it’s a natural thing.

Part 2

Masterlist

Why he kept doing it was beyond him.

The first time it happened both swore that it was a mistake, second time was a mistake too. The third time was to blow off steam from a rough mission. The fourth time, a mistake.

Now they’ve lost count of how many mistakes there’s been.

They know there’s been too many “this is the last time” before they end up in the same position.

Even though he knew what he was doing was wrong he just couldn’t stop.

When he woke that morning he knew he had fucked up. In the whole time that they’d been fucking he never fell asleep, he always headed home afterwards. He never once woke up with her in his arms. This was intimate, something that they didn’t do. It was just sex. They barely kissed, it was rough, he barely touched her other than her hips or his hand on her head as he pushed her face further into the pillow, further away from his mind - from his guilt.

Finding his phone he jumped up out of the bed his heart in his throat at the 22 missed calls and the one text message. He made her have a number that she would send to him for emergencies. For when she wasn’t or felt safe.

He received the number 4 in-between the many missed calls.

“Shit, baby pick up.” He chanted as he picked his clothes up off the floor and shoving them on in a hurry.

“St-Steve?” A woman’s voice came from the bed.

“Get up. Somethings wrong with Y/n”

“Shit”

Natasha took the sheet to cover herself as she rose from the bed, her too putting her clothes back on in a hurry.

Steve ran out of the room finding the team in the kitchen, Natasha soon following. “H-has Y/n called any of you? Somethings wrong”

Receiving a chorus of no’s his heart plummeted in to the depth of his stomach. Not giving any thought to it he took off running to the garage.

Speeding through the busy streets Steve kept trying to ring Y/n, heart rate going through the roof every time he heard her voicemail. Not even parking the car he jumped out and ran up to their apartment, Bucky and Sam quick on his heels.

“No no no no no” the door was open halfway.

“Y/n? Baby, I’m home…” he tried, Bucky and Sam swore they never heard Steve’s voice sound so small.

Taking small steps into the apartment he has shared with his girlfriend for the past three years he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The grey couch was tipped on its side, cushions once nearly placed on said couch now lay on the floor. Pieces of glass from the photo frames they had hung up, littered the ground. Trinkets and ornaments belonging to Y/n, that took her ages to get a nice collection going was broken on the floor amongst the mess.

But that’s not what caused him to loose his breath, no, it was the small puddle of blood in the middle of their living room, droplets leading to where he stood and behind him.

Bucky made his way around the wall that was Steve and did a sweep of the apartment in signs of his best friends girlfriend. Sam took off in the direction of where Bucky was calling his name. Five minutes later they both emerged from the bedroom, Bucky holding two things in his hands.

“S-Steve…”

“What are they?”

“A phone…and um, a…a pregnancy test.” Bucky stuttered out, his heart pounding violently.

“W-what does the test say?” Nat questioned quietly from behind Steve as she stood with the rest of the Avengers.

“It-its positive”

No one moved as Steve hunched over and puked up.

Just as he was about to stand the phone started ringing. Bucky answered and put it on loud speaker.

“You’ve been a naughty boy Steven so we took your girlfriend. You have less then… ten hours to find her, hopefully she won’t be too mad at you. Hail Hydra” the voice on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly before hanging up.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tony demanded.

“I-I don’t know, we need to find her. I can’t lose her”

“We’ll find her don’t worry” Nat says as she put a comforting hand on his arm, Steve looked at her hand in disgust and yanked his arm away as if she had burned him.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.” Steve growled in her ear quietly, even Bucky didn’t hear.

Her head throbbed, her whole body ached and was sore when she finally came to.

“Ah you’re awake, finally. I’m Conrad and I’ll be here to help you through this very tough time”

“W-where am I?”

“With Hydra darling. Believe it or not but you’re safe, I promise”

“Really? You pricks attacked me and you want me to believe you when you say I’m safe?” She chuckled with a head shake.

“I know, that wasn’t suppose to happen but we didn’t realise that one of Captain Americas girlfriends was so feisty, well we knew one was but not you” he says.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Oh didn’t you know? Weird. Steve has another girlfriend. You know her, Natasha also known as the black widow.”

Her heart cracked but she didn’t believe him, he was a member of Hydra for Christ sake. “Your lying”

“Hold on. Matthews turn the screen on and let’s show our guest where her hero is.”

The bright light from the tv screen she hadn’t even noticed was there, nearly blinded her. Conrad told Matthews to press play, her soul felt like it had died.

There was her boyfriend on six years thrusting in and out of her best friend.

“T-t-turn it o-off”

“No. Look in the right corner where his jeans are, open your eyes and do it Y/n.”

Complying with his order her eyes slowly peeled open and look where he had told her. There on the floor was the jeans she had brought him when he needed some new ones, every few minutes there was a flash.

“Want to know what that is? It’s you, you was ringing him when we came knocking. You was running and hiding ringing for him whilst he was fucking another woman. Matthews fast forward to the best part”

The footage fast forwarded and she saw Steve sleeping and Natasha climbing out of the bed, going to his jeans and picked up his phone she saw all the missed calls but instead of doing anything she put the phone down on the bedside table and climbed back into the bed.

“She’s not very nice is she? She knew you needed him but she didn’t care, that’s not a good friend is it?” Conrad mocked with a chuckle. “D-do you want a drink of water?”

The change in his tone confused her, one minute he was mocking her then in the next he sounded worried.

“H-here, take slow sips. It’s just water, look I’ll take a sip.” He says “see, it’s okay I promise.”

“W-why are you doing this?”

“I’m helping you. I’m not really the bad guy in this Y/n-“

“Why?”

Just as Conrad was about to respond Matthews ran into the room “they’ve arrived”.

“Ah show time”.

“Where is she?” Steve demanded clutching his shield tighter.

“She’s here, didn’t think you’d find us so soon Cap.” Conrad says from where he was stood, a grin on his lips.

“Where is she?” He repeated.

“Bring her in, nicely I don’t want any more harm coming to her”

The team watch as the door comes open from the left side of the room and Y/n came through it with two Hydra agents by her side.

“Doll-“

“How long.” It wasn’t a question but more of a demand.

“What are you talking about?” Steve questions.

Instead of answering him she turned to the others “did you guys know?”

“Know what?” Tony asks.

“Did you know that Steven was fucking Natasha?”

Both Steve and Nat flinch as she calls them by their full names. Natasha slowly backed up as the team looked at the pair.

“D-Doll whatever they’ve told you is a lie”

“I saw it with my own two eyes. How long”

“Doll-“

“A year.”

Steve and Natasha spoke at the same time.

“A…year?”

“It was an accident Y/n/n-“

“Don’t call me that Widow. A year isn’t an accident, did the rest of you know?”

All shook their heads at her question.

“Y/n please, it was a mistake I swear! She means nothing to me.”

Before she could respond Natasha spoke up “I meant nothing to you?”

“No. Please Y/n let’s go home, your pregnant baby”

“Not anymore I’m not. I was two months ago but I lost it, I remember ringing you all night begging you to come home but you never answered a single phone call. Probably with her.” She quickly wiped the fallen tear from her eye as she remembers that night.

The night where her happiness had left her all alone on the bathroom floor, panic raising by the second. Ringing her happiness’s father just for him not to answer, blood flowing down her legs and hands that shook something fierce. She begged and begged for them to come back, promising that she’d do better and be the best mum she could possibly be.

Sadly her happiness had gone away.

Numbly she cleaned up the evidence of her failure, placed the baby onesie she had brought as a present to tell Steve that he was going to be a dad - back in the box it came in, she put the positive pregnancy test in the box along with the sonogram and then neatly placed them in another box, pushing it right to the back of her side of the wardrobe.

Over the next two months whenever she was alone she would take the box out and talk to the sonogram, telling the tiny bean that she loved them. She knew she should of told Steve but she had no idea how to bring the conversation up, she couldn’t bare to see his face light up when she said she was pregnant just to see it fade away when she told him that she had failed as a woman and that it was no longer with them.

To her she was protecting him by keeping it away from him.

“But it doesn’t matter now does it? You guys can fuck off now.”

“No no Y/n please we can figure this out-“

“No. There’s no figuring anything out. You betrayed me, you! I didn’t do anything wrong! You don’t love me no more? Break up with me! You wanted to get your dick wet by some bitch that wasn’t me? Break up with me!” Her voice got louder as she went on stepping further towards him, standing in front of him she felt sick at the devastating look in his eyes.

“I asked Conrad to kill me” she smile sadly at him “you guys need to go now-“

“Y/n baby please I’m sorry, I can be bet-“

“Don’t humiliate me even more please, I’ve wanted this for a while now so please just leave”

Steve opens his mouth but shuts it quickly when the agents of Hydra points their guns at him and his team.

Y/n walks back over to Conrad who leads her through the door they came through. The last thing the Avengers hear is the deafening bang they were all familiar with.

In the two years that had passed since he lost Y/n, Steve stayed far away from Natasha.

The team had only recently begun talking to the pair again, they had lost a friend and to them it was Natasha’s and Steve’s fault.

Steve missed Y/n more than anything, sleep didn’t come easy to him not now not when the memories of his betrayal was always there as a constant reminder. Not when all he remembers is the pure devastation look in her eyes or how her hand glazed over her stomach when she spoke about their baby that they lost - a baby that he did not know anything about.

He had no one to blame other than himself for every time he hears a gunshot he’s transported back to that day he lost everything. Lost his world.

On the other side of the world in a woodland area away from the civilised society sat a lonely small farmhouse, surrounded by a large fence to keep the farm animals inside.

Y/n emerged from the wooden door with a small smile on her face, dressed in her dark blue dungarees that wore a deep green stain on the knees.

She didn’t lie when she said she had asked Conrad to kill her and he had agreed, when they went into the hallway she had fully prepared herself for the bullet to come, to end her life instead the bullet zoomed past her head and lodged itself in the wall.

“I’m not going to kill you Y/n, I-I want to help you leave but you need to stay quiet okay”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not much of a bastard, come on we don’t have long”

Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

414 notes · View notes

nieceeee · 7 months

Text

“SOUNDS OF FRIENDSHIP”

PS: Bestfriend!ony always sneaks and checks on you every night as a part of his nighttime routine. But this one night, Ony hears something he definitely shouldn’t have. Yet, he can’t seem to pull himself away.

WC: 3.1K

A/N: This has been one of my favorite plots to write lol. Im sorry Onybunny but I had to do it to you baby, NSFW, toy mentioned, suggestive, masturbation, little freaky stuff, Sneaking, Ony creeping through the dark lol.

Tag list: @iloveblogging2 @kritetakes @marshallowy @laylasbunbunny

After getting out the shower Ony tosses on a pair of gray sweatpants and slips his feet into an old pair of house shoes. The steam from the shower seeped into his bedroom, thickening the humidity in the air. Tendrils of smoke fluttered off his smooth brown skin, his body lingering with the warm from the water even after he had stepped out.

He rolled his neck stretching it out, the tightness still there from the workout he had earlier. Ony slipped out of his room door to start his nightly routine. He crept through the darkness, checking the seals on the windows and making sure everything was locked down. Although nothing had ever happened at home, he always did it to ensure both of your safety. Over time, it because engrained in his mind to do everyday. The house was quiet, the cool air whipping gently around his, cooling his still open pores. An unexpected shiver ran down his body. He turned the corner to check the air conditioner. “65?!” He whispered to himself. He should be used to the temperature by now considering how long you’ve lived together but it still shocked him every time he looked at it.

Ony shook his head and kept walking towards the living room. He wrapped around the couch in the living room and walked towards the front door. Checking to make sure both locks were secured, Ony made his way down the hallway and took a right towards your door. The closer he got to your room, the softer his footsteps became. You didn't know but he always took time to check on you every night. Ony knew about your past and the nightmares that plagued you some nights. So he always swept by your door to make sure you were resting. He pressed his body flat against the wall and side stepped until he was right next to your door. The last thing he wanted to do was wake you up out of your sleep. Last time he made that mistake, he was explaining to his brothers where his black eye came from.

Ony slowed his pace and calmed his breathing. His footsteps were as light as feathers as he reached the crack in the wall where your door was. He listened in the darkness for any signs of crying or panic in your voice. There was only one noise coming from inside, a low thrumming sound. Ony’s brows furrowed together and he hesitantly inched closer. He’d done this many times before and he’s never heard this before. He had memorized every sound in your room from the way the air blew to the sound your fan made as it spun. Am I hearing things he thought to himself. He tilted his head closer and remained quiet, holding his position in the shadows. The sound was consistent, there was no break in between it. Just a gentle low paced humming. Ony blinked a few times and began to move back slowly. As he shifted his both to begin to slip out, a noise caused him to pause. The humming as still there but he heard it clear as day. A small whimper. Ony’s heart began to race in his chest.

Because from the other side of the door, a soft moan crept from your lips. Ony held his position unable to move, unable to breath. He didn't hear that. He’s tired. His mind is playing tricks on him. But it happened again, another sweet low moan echoes in your room, creeping underneath the door, gliding across the carpet, and snaking up to his ears. Ony was shell shocked. Because as he stood in the hall, body pressed against the cream paint in the apartment, he heard the sounds of you, his best friend. And on the other side of the door, unaware of his presence, your back pressed into your bed and legs spread on each side, you drug your vibrator across your already swollen bud of nerves between your legs. Your chest rising and falling rapidly, you release another small cry into the darkness.

You had been wound up all day and were desperate to get home for release. The workout you and Ony had to endure did nothing to curve the sensation you were craving. And unlucky for you, seeing your best friend shirtless, body sweaty and muscles bulging didn't help you at all. You weren’t attracted to Ony in that way you told yourself. You and him had been friends for years. Your relationship was platonic, borderline suggestive to anyone who didn't know you both but you’ve always been just friends. But you weren’t blind. You couldn’t help but admit that your best friend had always been cute. But as you both grew up, Ony lost the boyish charm and developed into a full grown man. So eyeing your 6’0, dark skin bestie with the body of a god did absolutely nothing but cause you more problems.

Granted you could’ve called up one of your options, it wasn't unlike you to have them. But you and Ony had a rule, no sex in the apartment that you shared. Your home was your safe space, and with your past, both of you agreed to the rule with no hesitation and you didn't feel like driving anywhere at what you endured today. So instead you opted in to staying at home and pleasing yourself. Which lead you to here, with your handheld pressing deeper into your walls as you worked yourself closer and closer to your climax. Except today absolutely hated you because every time you inched closer, you lost the spot and had to start over.

You had been going at it way longer than you expected and were teetering on the edge. You needed to do something. Something to relax yourself. So you shifted your hips, pressed further back into the bed and closed your eyes. Increasing the speed on the vibrator, you took deep breaths and let your mind wander. Images of peace fluttered through your mind as you willed your body to relax. You stopped holding your moans, allowing all your muscles to relax as you imagines intimacy, trying to coax your body to it's release. Your mind thought of your ex, how well he would fuck you. The way he would pound into you with no remorse. Your side piece and the way his tongue worked you over and over. Then your mind shifted to hands. Thick hands rubbing up your sides, fingers gently gripping your hips. It envisioned full two toned lips pressing gentle kisses down your neck and towards your breasts. Perfectly sculpted arms gripping your legs and pushing them back towards you. Your mind imagined it, though you’ve never seen it, your mind still conjured up the image of his girth pressing into you, the delicious stretch it would provide as he hit your spot. Your mind plagued with images of him, of the familiar scent of cedar wood and absinthe, his velvety voice coating your ear drums as he whispers sweet nothings to you, begging you to call out to him. So you did. You knew it was wrong. Your mind was playing dirty tricks on you as it made you force it out. Made you call out to the one person you knew you couldn’t have.

“Ony”

His heart pounded in his eardrums. Ony couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Because as he stood outside your door, the sound of his name fell from your lips. His eyes widened searching the darkness. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. He tried to rationalize with himself. But again your voice called out to him as your moans followed, increasing in speed and volume. You repeated it over and over and over again until your body shook. Muscles clenching around the toy, he heard you cry out as you worked the orgasm from your body. You released…while calling his name.

It was a joke. It had to be a joke. There was no way that you would do that. Ony assured himself. He nodded and waited. You must’ve heard him outside the door and decided to play tricks with him, pretending to call his name and accuse him of snooping outside your door. So he waited. He held his breath and waited for you to come out of the door and laugh at him for falling for your game.

But you never came out.

Instead there was a slur of “fucks” that crept underneath the door instead. There was shuffling, your feet hitting the floor. The thrumming sound stopped and the only other thing he heard was the closing of your bathroom door and the creaking of the knobs of your shower as your rushed to clean yourself up.

If his heart beat any harder it would jump out of his chest and run away from him, leaving nothing but a wide eyed, mouth agaped corpse behind. Because realization dawned on his features at the fact that this wasn't a joke. This wasn't another game you decided to play. You called out to him as you came. In one of the most intense moments, your mind imagined him. Your body wanted…him.

Ony waited a few more moments, willing himself to come back from the comatose state he was in. He crept back to his room, pace quicker than before. He made sure he was far away enough before he rushed towards his hallway and closed the door to his room, locking himself inside. His mind began to race.

You said his name. Why would you say his name? Is this the first time you said it? HOW MANY TIMES HAS THIS HAPPENED?

Ony was absolutely spiraling and every moment you have ever shared together played through his head. Every time you held hands or hugged each other. How smooth your smaller hands felt in his as your nimble fingers intertwined with his larger ones. Nights were you slept in his bed and the warmth of your body against his, the smell of lilacs and honey lingering on his pillow from your shampoo. You stealing all his clothes and the way the cotton fabric brushed right against the underside of your ass, hanging between your thighs when you sat down. The first kiss you shared when you were 12 because you wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing. The way your lips felt against his. The taste of your cherry bomb lipgloss coming back to his senses.

His thoughts were shifting into a very unfamiliar territory. Ony didn't think about you like that. You were his best friend. You’ve been that way since you both were 6 years old. You were always the one by his side, picking at him and making him laugh. Sure one or two thoughts about building something more had come to his mind but neither of you cared to push it further so you remained friends. But this was new territory. This was unspoken territory. Ony paced his room, thumb pressed to his lips as his teeth bit into his nail. He couldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t think about you like that. It was wrong.

So why the fuck was he hard right now…

Ony couldn’t lie about what he was feeling in this moment. He wouldn't admit it out loud because that was wrong. It was wrong to think about how soft you would feel underneath him. It was wrong to imagine what you face looked like when you came, how you thick hair fell across your pillow and your back arched into him. It was wrong of him to imagine the way you would squirm underneath him and his dick pushed into your cervix and his lips trailed from your toes down to the gold anklet he bought you for your birthday. It was definitely wrong for him to imagine the way you would cream against him as his hand wrapped gently around your neck and the other held your hips still so you couldn’t run from him. It was wrong of him to imagine the nail sets he always pays for scraping down his spine as he fucked tears from your eyes. The way your beautiful brown eyes would widen as he made you look at him while you cum because he knew it would break you. It was so fucking wrong.

But his dick couldn’t tell the difference.

Ony shook his head trying to clear his mind of those thoughts but it did nothing. Heat rose through his body as he quickly made his way to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and undresses before stepping inside. The icy temperature stung against his warm skin as he tried to drown the thoughts away. But as he stood there underneath the shower head, the only thing he could imagine was the fact that you had just gotten into the shower yourself. And his mind crafted images of you naked, body glistening in the water. Ony never cared for shower sex but he imagined it with you. He wondered what you thought about him. What was it about him that drove you over the edge. What turned you on? Did you taste as good as you always smelled? He imagined his tongue running up and down your core as he held you up by your thighs, your back presses against the shower wall.

A low groan released from his throat, the cold water doing nothing for him as the sounds of your moans replayed like the melodic notes of symphony, caressing his ears. Ony closed his eyes, head tilted back against the shower. “Fuck.” He let out, his body betraying him. His thick hands sliding down his body to offer himself some much needed release.

How the fuck was he supposed to face you in the morning…

#ony x black reader #smut #aot x y/n #aot x reader #fem!reader #aot x black reader #black writers #onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankapon #aot fic #melovehimsomuch

787 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

The Farmer's Daughter 12

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Walter opens the door and you back out its way. You shiver, and hug yourself, the rain seeping into your flesh. He keeps his hand against the door and ushers you inside quietly. You shuffle through as the fabric of your shirt clings to your skin.

“What are you doing?” He asks at last.

You stand on the mat as he backs up, easing the door back into the frame behind you. You look down at yourself, then him.

“I don’t know,” you wisp.

“You’re going to make yourself sick running around in this,” he says.

“I– I know, but… I have to talk to you,” you insist and a ripple shakes you.

“Come on,” he presses a hand to your back, urging you further inside, “let’s get you warmed up.”

“I’m f-fine,” you argue.

He just grunts and keeps going, taking you into the front room. He leaves you standing on a thick rug as he disappears. He comes back to you with a towel and a boxy space heater. He hands the former to you and plugs the latter into the wall, aiming it directly at you. You thank him for the towel and pat your face dry.

He leaves again as you try to sop up the rain from your clothing. He returns again and offers a flannel shirt. You accept it with another chattering thank you.

“I’ll put some tea on,” he says, “then you can say what you need to.”

“Oka–” a clap of thunder interrupts you. You jump and let out a frightful squeak.

“You’re lucky you beat the worst of it,” he reprimands, a lingering reproachful look before he turns.

You watch him once more pass through the oaken door frame. You slowly take in your surroundings. The place is pretty small. Modest by any means. You step closer to the heater and lay down the flannel shirt by your feet. You strip away your wet clothing and pull on the thick button-up that hangs loosely around your figure, nearly to your knees.

You gather up your former outfit, spreading out the layers atop each other. The sound of Walter tinkering around in the kitchen jars you. All your thoughts scramble as you try to untangle what you want to say. What do you want to say?

You sit on your knees and rub your hands together and hold them out to the heater. Lightning flashes between the curtains and another peel of thunder shakes the earth. Walter comes back with a single mug and hands it to you.

He picks up your clothes and you watch him drape them over the back of a wooden chair to dry. He paces behind the threadbare sofa as you look down into the steaming cup. It’s too hot to taste yet.

“So…” he begins with a heave.

“Walt, I…” you wet your lips, “I…” your chest throbs as you struggle to find your words. He crosses his arms, making himself seem even bigger. It’s not lost on you that you’re on your knees, ready to beg. “I was surprised…” you say carefully and his brows furrow, “when you kissed me.”

His cheek ticks and his nostrils flare. He stares you down unflinchingly. You gulp and place the tea down on the floor. You’re already sweating from trying to sort this all out. Why hadn’t you thought of what to say?

“And I didn’t know how to react,” you continue, running your hands along the fabric over your thighs, “so I ran away and I’m sorry. I… I should’ve been honest.”

“You came all this way to reject me,” he challenges bluntly.

“No,” you murmur, “I didn’t–” you pause as the wind whips outside the walls, “I just never expected you to… feel that way about me.”

“Hm,” he rumbles as his expression remains stony.

“Or that…” you weigh your words before you let them free, “I could feel the same?”

His eyes narrow, “you don’t sound like it.”

“I’m saying… I could try,” you fold your hands together, “I want to try.”

“Try?” He growls.

“Please, you have to understand, there’s a lot going on. My dad, the farm–”

“Oh, I know,” he steps around the couch, looming over you. He steps closer and bends his knees, squatting until he looks you straight in the eyes, “do you think I really did it for him?”

You search his face, trying to discern the tides in irises, the tension in his jaw. Your chest flutters as his words sink in.

“I did, Walt, because you’re a good guy,” you eke out.

“If you think so, you don’t show it.”

His coldness jars you. You’re trying. You don’t know how to convince him but you know you have to.

“I do,” you bring your hands up, “Walt, I know you are. I see it–”

“You want the farm and I’m the only way for you to keep it,” he sniffs, “I know why you’re here.”

You look down in defeat and shame. You won’t lie and say he’s not right but you had to try. You’ll just have to go home and tell your mom it didn’t work. She was wrong.

“Why would I buy a farm to keep a family that isn’t mine?” He reaches and cups your chin, forcing your head up, “seems a bit… illogical, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” you sniffle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“But if it were my family,” he cuts you off, his hand firmly framing your chin, “then maybe it would make sense.”

Your breath catches in your chest and your lashes flutter. Does he mean…

“I could be a good husband. You’ve seen that,” he says, “can you be a good wife?”

The icy chill flows back into you. Having it put so plainly is startling. You feel so young to be signing away your life, but you won’t have much of one without the farm; without your family. You unclasp your hands and touch Walter’s wrist.

“Yes,” you utter, “I can. I will.”

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #the farmer's daughter #drabble #series #au #backwoods au #night hunter

370 notes · View notes

sweetnsour1 · 1 month

Text

9:36:01

Angsty fluff, Bakugou x fem reader

Part 1 of Broken Collection

Go back to part 0

“An echo.”

“An echo?”

“Yeah, ya know-“ you interrupted yourself with a few waves of your hand…an attempt to summon some sense of understanding. “Like the same thing, but not…and it comes later.”

Your thoughts faltered when you looked up at the sound of a chuckle, but your timing was off. The evidence was already being erased from his lips with the pass of a scarred hand. A quick cough and eye roll reset his expression before he tried again.

“Yea, I get what an echo is. Don’t get how one brought ya here.”

You huffed, returning your gaze to your lap. This was all frustrating and so…so stupid. You were frustrating. You were-A slippered foot nudged your leg. He bent to your sprawled-on-the-floor level, hooking a finger beneath your chin, raising your probably bloodshot eyes to meet his naturally red ones. Your eyes watered as they widened at the close proximity. Fuck, he looked so good…and you were so tired.

“Hmm…fix your face.”

“Ugh, I know. I haven’t slep-“

“No, this.” Something ran across your lips, tracing the frown you didn’t know was on display. By the time you could process his touch, it was gone. He was standing in the doorway again. This time with his hand down, palm out. “Well, come on.” The rush of panic was instant, your head was throbbing, your ears were ringing, your thoughts frozen before they could start.

“Huh?”

“Did ya wanna sleep out here?”

“No.”

“Okay then.” He moved closer, and you let him help you up.

Ugh, standing felt like such a pain after a night of dancing with Mina and Kaminari. They were probably still out. You’d bailed after the third spot…once you realized you were in walking distance to-

“Ya good?”

You nodded, seeing he’d led you to the bathroom. “Soft,” you mumbled into the pile of folded somethings he pushed into your arms.

“Remember where everything is?” He paused for an extra moment while you blinked up at him. “Nothing’s changed.”

You must have nodded because he seemed satisfied before heading off to the kitchen. You wandered to the mirror, ignoring your reflection, and placed the clothes on the counter. Nothing’s changed. What a lie. So many things had changed.

However, he wasn’t wrong…quite a few things seemed to have remained: The extra loofahs beneath the sink, the clean towel hanging on the shower door because you’d always forget to grab one, lavender bodywash, color protecting shampoo, the drain cover to catch your hair before it wreaked havoc on the plumbing.

You let the water burn, and steam fill the room. Anything to hide these markers, these tiny headstones detailing who was here for a moment before having to move on. Eventually, you groaned and shut the water off. You couldn’t hide in here forever.

“What am I doinggg?”

“Using all the hot water in the building.”

“Shit!” You wiped at the shower door to reveal an empty bathroom. “The fuck?”

That same chuckle floated toward you. “Don’t worry, still out here.” A hand waved from the hall. “Ya didn’t shut the door.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry, idiot.”

“Sor-“

“There’s food when you’re done.”

It felt so fucking good to be clean. You were halfway through putting lotion on, freezing mid-thigh. You’d bought this…for him at first, but then a larger size when you ended up loving the scent. Now it was just something else on the long list of things you had avoided for months. You finished getting presentable enough to journey to the kitchen.

He really did look so fucking good. His shoulders were relaxed, no longer grinding up towards his ears. His breaths seemed calmer than before. His back and shoulders had gotten bigger in all the best ways, while his waist seemed smaller somehow. He finally had the undercut you’d pushed for years ago, but he’d never wanted to try. He really, truly seemed like he was doing so much fucking better. But you knew that…you knew…you had said…you-

You jumped as his hands grabbed your face. When the hell had he turned around?

“The hell? You okay?” His thumbs traced along your cheekbones. Oh, tears.

“Yea, yea…just tired.” You tugged free of his grip, backing away to sit in the living room, burrowing into the corner of the sofa you used to like best. He half followed, and you could feel the question coming. He opened his mouth as you rolled your eyes. “Promise.” He shut it again with a tch, disappearing into the kitchen again. It’s like you were running lines from a script you’d memorized.

The food he finally brought over was probably delicious. You could only register it was warm and filling. It was hard to focus on anything really. Too much alcohol, too little sleep, too many memories, just too much.

“So an echo?”

You paused, noticing you had slid a pillow between the two of you at some point.

“Mmm. It’s probably better if we don’t unpack that.”

The cushions shifted as he stretched his long arms up and back down to rest along the back of the sofa. You found your gaze ripped away from the shoulders you couldn’t stop staring at by that same soft laugh you’d missed so much.

“Probably. Still wanna hear it though.”

“It’s just a theory…”

“Ya love those.”

“Mhmm.”

“So what is it this time?”

“It’s just…we broke up.”

“That’s true.”

“Well we broke up because we thought-“

“We?”

“Well we broke up because I thought we weren’t bringing out the best in each other anymore. Everything was harder and stressful and exhausting. We both put work first, but that made us feel shitty at home. But if we took time off to be at home, we felt shitty about not being at work. We were too similar and enabled so many bad habits.”

“Yea yea, I remember all that from before. Now what’s this echo?”

“Yea, so…we broke up because I thought that might be true. Now it’s been a while. And we’re both doing much better. Great even. And it’s just like a shitty echo of the heartbreak. Ya know? Because it’s like proof that we’re better apart than together. And…”

“And?”

“And so I guess that’s why I’m here.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“Doin’ great, huh?” His fingers ran through his blonde hair. “Are you doing better?”

“What? I mean…I’ve never been ranking higher than I am now. And the agency-“

“Not what I asked.”

“You asked-“

“Not work. Are you doing better?”

“Oh…yes?” Finally you were looking when his eyes crinkled and his laugh was set loose. Pretty.

“Now ask me.”

“Ask you?” He was no longer laughing but his mouth looked ready to release another at any moment. “Um, are you doing better?”

His hand was just warm enough for you to not flinch as it made contact with your neck. His thumb stroked the side of your face. Your eyes closed and you leaned into the touch you’d stayed away from for most of the year. You opened them again, unsure of how long he’d let you rest in the literal palm of his hand. He was fully grinning now.

“Not at fuckin’ all.”

“Not at fuck-wait not at all?” Your thoughts were getting more sluggish by the minute.

“Nope.”

“But-“

“Yea work’s great, but I’m always great at work.”

“But…You seem so relaxed and happy and I dunno…different?”

“No shit. You showed up at my door like I ordered delivery.” He laughed at your pout before it was fully formed. “Guess you’re too exhausted to wonder why I was awake at two in the fuckin’ morning.”

“But…but you go to bed at eight.”

“Been a while since i could do that.”

“Why?”

“You’re not the only one getting chased by echoes, kid.”

“Oh.”

Mmmmmm still unsure where this one is going, but these two are tugging me along. So we’ll see

Next part

Masterlist

#bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #bnha fluff #bnha #bnha imagines #bakugou imagine #bakugou drabbles #fluff #bnha bakugou

267 notes · View notes