#this is entirely self indulgent i came up with in the shower | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vamph00n · 4 months

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⊹₊｡ꕤ˚ “all of you” ꕤ˚₊⊹

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softbfhoonxfemreader !!minors dni!!

-synopsis: Sunghoon is your sweet boyfriend, he adores you so much, he could never say no to you. But your relationship was fairly new, wouldn’t you scare him off with your not so innocent fantasy?

!!warnings!! Smut! soft Hoon, perverted reader, pillow humping, vanilla sex, unprotected sex, it’s all very sweet, cute filth?Readers hair be ran through with hands, a new relationship in lovey dovey phase.

-a/n: this is not proofread, and it’s entirely self indulgent.

-wc: longer than it should’ve been.

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A sweet boyfriend you had, he was so considerate.

By your side at all times, even met your parents during the holidays even though you dated for merely a month. He was responsible really, always making sure you ate well, and calling to see if you were okay whenever he’d work late. He’d even make up for his time not spent with you whenever he could, and took it slow in your relationship because he loved you. He respected you, saw you on level with him and always made sure you knew it, by letting you be your own person. No matter how badly he wanted to be the only man in your life. No matter how possessive he knew he could get, he wanted you to be happy. He wanted all of you, and didn’t want you to hide any of that away behind his own selfish need to be only one to get your attention.

He wanted to take this seriously, he’s an adult after all, and it’s you he’d lose if he didn’t play the game right.

So sickeningly sweet he was, always making sure to ask for consent before making love, when you both knew damn well your wet cunt was always weeping for him. His hands always so gently traced the curves of your body, readying you for him. His beautiful hands, groped, massaged, and caressed. Most importantly he’d never failed to forget to roll on a rubber before diving in. Oh how he was so responsible…. Kisses, and bites, scratches and marks. His back was always painted with them after a steamy night.

“ ‘m sorry.” Is what you would say the mornings after as you saw him get up seeing the state you left it.

You’d receive a kiss on your forehead, and a hand to your cheek, “I don’t mind them darling.” He’d say with the upmost love in his eyes.

You really couldn’t ask for more, he was perfect. But you were only human, you wanted more from him, all of him.

You let him dive his head into you folds, let his tongue get entangled in your core as your cry for more. He’d let you down his length, his oh so pretty cock. And like a good girl you’d swallow every drop of his pleasure when he’d release in your mouth. Yet… you knew it was crass, you had only dated him for a month, and maybe he wasn’t into it… but you wanted him. You wanted to take him raw.

You wanted it so bad, it made you feel so irresponsible compared to him. No amount of liquor and girls nights, could prepare you for what your friends called your honeymoon phase. It hit you like a truck, and you definitely didn’t expect to need him this much after having a taste of him. So much to the point where you threw your common sense out of the window. So you tried your best to keep this dark little secret to yourself. At least as well as you could.

…

Time again, you’d find yourself in his home laying in his bed. It smelt like him, his sheets. Not quite washed, but not quite dirty. A musk you grew fond of.

The sound of the shower in the other room was apparent as he washed up, and you sat in his bed waiting for him to lay with you.

Dressed in his hoodie and undergarments, you sat patiently. One thing you had noticed before when you first started dating, was that his bedside table always had tissues and lotion. They since disappeared when you and him got intimate more often, which made you giddy. But today, there they were, back out on his nightstand.

There was no anger, and no disappointment, but a thought creeped into your mind. Where was the tissue he came in? A perverted thought, because he probably threw it away, but you couldn’t help it. What images of you popped into his head when he did it? Did he look at any photos of you? You hoped so. Biting your lip, and feeling all hot and bothered, your thighs rubbed together unconsciously. Then you thought of it more. Perhaps he was messy? Maybe a mere drop got on his bed, or his pillows.

A whore for his cum, that he never gave unless it was in your mouth, you craved it. You never thought you’d crave some silly semen before, but you needed it. Needed to feel it in you. You needed to feel him shoot his load in you.

You’d feel so honored, to just let him release into you. Like it proved something. Just the thought of him chanting your name like a mantra, and letting him explode with pleasure in you.

Riding his pillow in between your legs, you oh so hoped he got a drop on it. If he did, that would’ve made this pathetic dry humping worth it. Like a little pervert, you thought, and you imagined. Closing your eyes, and furrowing your brows as you felt the plush material rub against your wet folds, you massaged your breasts.

Silent whimpers, it wasn’t as fufiling as your boyfriend himself. Your hole felt empty, in need of him. It was sobbing for him.

So engaged in your little fantasy, you failed to hear the click of the door, and the footsteps towards the bed.

You felt the bed ruffle, as someone sat down. Sunghoon sat down.

“You know, I could help you with that.” He stated with his eyes fixed on you.

Embarrassment was something you threw out the window, while it was still present. You stopped your hips from grinding deeper into the pillow, face with a flush of pink.

He scooted closer towards you, practically pinning you down before looking at your lips hungrily. He kissed you, your lips danced. It was sweet, like always, and so needy.

Sunghoon let go of the kiss, and looked at you, he was flattered you were getting off on his pillow (note his pillow) but there was still a semblance of disappointment in his eyes.

Why’d his girlfriend that he loved so much, cared for, and always made sure she was satisfied in bed; why did she have to resort to humping a pillow when he was a mere few feet away? Did he not pleasure her enough? Was he not actually fufilling what she wanted in bed? Did she have to fake it? He wasn’t normally an insecure man, but you had made him feel like that. Becasue right now you were everything to him. You had that effect on him.

“Baby. It’s embarrassing.” You mumbled,

Embarrassing how? For him and his pride? Yes. For you? There’s no way in his mind you’d ever do any wrong.

Your hands slipped in the waistband of his pants, snaking their way to his length. He was hard.

In a bitter spirit, he pulled your hand away. “Wouldn’t you rather continue what you were doing to pillow?”

His voice was half teasing, and a bit disheartening. You only resorted to that because of him, because he made you feel that way. But you could also argue he was being a hypocrite.

“Hoon, I could tell you the same thing.” You said looking over at the lotion and tissues on the nightstand, and his eyes followed yours.

He laughed. That’s what this was about? God, he didn’t realized how in love he was. “Baby, they’re out on the nightstand because I was cleaning the drawers, and I forgot to put them back.”

Now you feel stupid. “Oh.” How were you supposed to admit you weren’t angry at the possibility of him jerking off without you? But your little perverted thoughts about the sheer possibility of his cum being in his sheets made you like this?

How could you possibly explain this without shame? You had already been caught getting off, what good is it to admit the real reason? And beside where’s the fun in that? As masochistic as it sounds, waiting for him to suggest it himself wasn’t a game you enjoyed; you wanted to tell him.

He chuckled, how cute his girlfriend was for being upset over something like that. It also reasured himself, yet he felt like there was something plaguing her mind, because her eyes seemed to not be focused.

So attentive, he took his time to ease you.

He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, kissing it, as you rolled your hips against him. You could feel his lips curl into a smile as he felt your desperation, eyes shut, and brows furrowed.

His lips grazed the skin on your neck, as he moved his head to level with you. It’s like he knew something was on your mind, whatever it was he wanted to hear it, and you could see it in his eyes.

“Talk to me Angel.” He purred, reaching over to the nightstand drawer to pull out a condom.

You watched as he did, the words wanted to escape from your mouth.

“Maybe we should get started hmm? Wouldn’t wanna leave you waiting.”

God, he knew what made you melt.

Before he could open it, you spoke up. “Can we not, um….”

He looked confused, did you not want do anything tonight? He was fine with it, but—

“I don’t want to use a condom tonight.” There, you said it.

Your poor boyfriend looked confused. Were you feeling alright? Did he hear that right? It was always the safest way to prevent any complications, but he knew you were on the pill…

“Uhh, can you say that again?” He asked.

“Hoon, I want you to cum in me.”

Shit. That was hot. That was so fucking hot, and he didn’t know why. He could see the eager expression on your face, and he reveled in it.

It’s like it clicked, and the gears in his little lovesick brain started turning.

“Is this what you were so worked about? The fact that I might have came into some tissue paper, but not into your little pussy?” He said lowly, as he slid your damp panties to the side.

God his mouth was so dirty, and you loved it. His fingers worked circles around your clit, and he was just as eager as you were. Wetness already collected all over your folds, he used it as slick to stimulate your little bud. As much as he wanted to put his aching dick into you right now, a bit of teasing always helped make you writhe under him when he finally stuffed your hole with what it craved.

“Be patient.” He muttered. A reaction to your hips moving for more friction. His eyes traveled to your lips, and crashed into them, feeling every breathy moan you let out.

You were having a hard time, your clit already swollen from rubbing against the pillow, and now you were almost close as he rolled it between his fingers.

It was torture for you, he loved watching you fall apart on his fingers, but you couldn’t bare to waste this moment on his fingers. Not tonight, not after him blessing you with the chance to take him raw.

You really tried your hardest not to climax, edging yourself, and he teased on. Working his fingers faster, occasionally slipping them into your hole.

“Hoon, I don’t wanna cum like this.” You mewled a bit teary eyed.

He only smirked, and slowed his movement. You liked it so much though? Why would he deprive you of this pleasure? Oh. That’s right.

He pulled his finger away, and thankfully so because any more, and you’d burst.

Sunghoon kicked off his sweats, a bit clumsily, and you both exchanged a small laugh, before he closed the distance between the two of you.

You grabbed at his length, stroking him. He practically shivered at your touch. His erection was practically glistening with precum already.

Maybe it was the fact you were so eager, but maybe also because he had secretly craved this aswell, he just never thought to bring it up in fear of scaring you off.

He groaned so audibly as you circled his tip with your thumb, his face slumping into your shoulder. “Don’t tease me now…”

It had seemed he was having as much as a hard time as you did when he fingered you. His pretty dick was probably so hard at the sight of you trying to keep your composure. You’d be stupid not to let him fuck into you.

Dragging his tip along your folds, you could feel it twitch. He wasn’t even in you, his bare cock just kissed your core so deliciously.

He took hold of his own, and guided it into your hole. He looked at your glassy eyes, asking for permission without words, and with a simple nod, you let him push it into you.

It was so different for him, he could feel all your juices coat his length, it left him almost gasping for air. This was almost too much, he was obviously too sensitive, overwhelmed with your tight little walls sucking him in.

He hadn’t even started moving, you swore you could feel each being of him in you. He was barely even pressing forward, and you could still feel him kissing the deepest parts of your depths.

With a swift hand, he placed a pillow under you on your lower back, and he shivered at the fact that his tip was practically kissing your cervix now that your parts were closer. He was loud about it, a moan like a melody. But you were louder about it.

“Fuck, Baby. I don’t think I’m gonna last long.”

You nodded in agreement. “Me neither, but god, can you please just move.” You whined so desperately.

No hesitation, his chest was up against yours, as his thrusts were slow, but deep and hard. Each time, you let out a moan, louder than the last. His breathing became shaky, and he was now mumbling incoherently.

“Hoon, you feel too good.”

He felt like he was in top of the world when you said that, breaking your symphony of moans. It made him want to got faster, chasing his high. After all it’s what you wanted. You wanted him to release into you.

His pace ramped up, and you could hear your name leave his mouth just like you’d hope. Just like you had fantasized. The small “ah’s” and “oh’s” were now gone, just the loudest sounds of pleasure replacing them.

You could feel a creeping feeling of your high approaching, and your boyfriend was showing no signs of slowing down.

“Shit, babe if you don’t slow down.” You said, cut off by his lips crashing into yours.

“Fuck me too, I’m gonna cum so deep into you.” He said as his hips snapped into you more aggressively.

A mere couple of thrusts away, you felt your own pleasure pool, and release. Chants, and moans, escaped your mouth. With so much praise, following it.

Sunghoon’s voice made a sharp high, and his eyes shut, and his dick twitched in you. He was balls deep, drunk on this feeling. With a small little clench of you walls, he could feel himself cum all over your womb.

Sloppy thrusts perused, he emptied his load into you, as you walls sucking him in. Absolute sobs, you couldn’t mistake it. He probably shedded a tear from it.

All was well, your fantasy’s perused, and your cunt was used just like you wanted it to be. It felt even better that you’d imagined it would be. So dumb, because why would you expect any less than perfection from Sunghoon?

A messy, and tired makeout session later. He ran his fingers through your hair, as his legnth was still buried in you.

Slowly, he pulled out, and it was like a wet dream. It was almost embarrassing how much he came in you, because it spilt out like honey.

So mesemerizdd but the sight it made him hard again.

A round of aftercare later, and the two of you laying against eachother, before you fell asleep he said something you’d take into the next few months in your relationship.

“You don’t need to think twice before asking me to do stuff like this with you.”

“Hell, you should’ve asked sooner.” Sunghoon added before you both fell asleep.

He gave you all of him, and showed he’d continue to. You’d be stupid not to comunticate with him more.

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen #enhypen smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #enha smut #vanila #sweet #soft!dom #perv!reader #fem!reader #established relationship #non idol au

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sailoryooons · 9 months

Note

BOONGI REQUEST THE SEQUEL !!! honeymooning with yoongi and your trip is a little too richly scheduled considering how horny you both are.... leads to fucking in some interesting places 🙈

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Your tropical honeymoon is planned down to the very minute to get the most out of your trip but it seems that Yoongi has plans of throwing off your itinerary every time his hands touch you.

❀ Word Count: 4,355

❀ Genre: Established relationship, pwp

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Absolutely self-indulgent and gratuitous smut, literally this is the most porn without plot I have ever done, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, fucking from behind, semi-public fucking, light degredation, oral (m. and f. receiving), riding Yoongi, fucking from behind, face sitting, throat fucking, a lot of cum and spit and holes, Yoongi and reader fuck in public spaces where they cannot be seen a lot, temperature place, use of ice (please do not ever take ice from a random ice bucket and put it in your partners vagina, this is fiction and it was handy but do not do that lmao), cum swallowing and cum eating when you squint.

❀ Published: August 9, 2023

❀ A/N: This is sort of a part two? You do not have to read the first request to read this one, they are easily read separately. Thanks for giving me an excuse to just write porn. There literally is nothing here but porn, I don’t even know if they have chemistry, but they fucking. Honestly I had to cut scenes out of this because I also imagined the infinity pool moment and so many other moments because M and I are fucking insane and ruminate on this shit, but at one point it was just… getting longer and I was RUNNING OUT OF WORDS FOR DICK AND COCK AND I HATE THE WORD DICK IN SMUT IF FEELS NOT VERY SEXY. Okay. Here is my ode to the love of my life, M. This somehow made me more insane.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

“Come on,” You murmur, lips pressed against Yoongi’s warm forehead. “We have a breakfast reservation at that place we talked about.”

A deep groan rumbles through Yoongi’s chest. It’s dark in the bedroom of your resort, the lights still off and the sliding glass door window still shuttered. Your newly wed is tangled in white sheets, face pressed against the pillow and swollen with sleep. You bite your bottom lip to hide your smile as he buries his face deeper into the pillow.

It’s tropical warm in the room, your skin still heated from the sun the day before. Yoongi’s cheeks are sun-kissed blossom, bottom lip jutted out as he pouts. You think about the night before, biting that bottom lip hard as you came around him in the shower, cold water pebbling on hot skin.

Sighing, you climb onto him, knees on either side of his waist as you sit. His chest is flushed and warm as you lean down, dress riding up your thighs as you press your forehead to the side of his head. His hair is messy, an inky halo around him as he lets out a sound again, very close to whining.

Yoongi smells like coconut shampoo and palm breeze. It makes your stomach flip having him this close to you, flashes of the night before making your already sore thighs twitch. Ignoring your more carnal urges, you nudge him with your nose, huffing. Sliding your hands around to the back of his neck, you thread your fingers through his silky hair, holding him there.

“Don’t you want breakfast?” you ask, hoping the promise of food will lure him from bed.

Yoongi is fully awake now. “Mhmm.”

Yoongi frees his hands from the sheets and places them on your thighs, squeezing. His hands are warm and callused, sparking a curl of pleasure in you as he rubs them up and down your legs. It’s an innocent touch, but your thoughts turn devious.

When Yoongi’s hands trace to the round curve of your ass to grab a handful of flesh, you let out a breathy sound and tighten your grip on his hair. He hisses in appreciation, hips twitching off the bed as you growl, “What are you doing?”

Yoongi turns his head to face you, your foreheads pressed together as he bumps your nose with his. “I don’t need to leave for breakfast,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips as he talks. His right hand gives you a playful crack on the ass, making you squeak as the sweet sting riles you up, your knees squeezing his waist. “I can eat right here.”

His hands are firm, fingers dimpling your rear end as he pulls you against his stomach and rolls your hips. Your eyes flutter shut at the barely-there friction, Yoongi lifting himself up a little to help you grind against him.

“Yoongi.”

The chastisement is nothing more than half of a breath, already feeling arousal curl in your stomach. Your thighs stretch painfully from the night before, a feel-good burn that makes you spread your legs a little wider to feel the pleasurable strain.

“Come on,” Yoongi grunts. “Girl breakfast.”

“That’s not what that meme means.”

“Who gives a fuck. Sit on my face.”

Ignoring him is impossible. Yoongi’s hands palm your ass, pulling you forward. On unsteady knees, you shuffle up from his waist to his face, lifting the hem of your dress as you go. Yoongi hums appreciatively, slipping a hand between your legs to press his fingers against your clothed pussy.

“Fuck,” you whisper, the stimulation jolting. “We have an itinerary.”

“Fuck the itinerary. You were going to go to breakfast like this?” he asks, slipping a finger under your underwear, swiping through your dripping folds. “All wet and sticky?”

You whine, fists tightening in the fabric of your dress. He drags a curled knuckle up and down your pussy, pressing into your clit purposefully as he does, making your hips swivel a little. Yoongi laughs underneath you, mouth hot on your thighs as he leaves sloppy kisses, air cooling his spit on your skin as he goes.

There’s no escaping this. Any desire you had to go to breakfast with a view of the beach is gone as Yoongi nips at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, your legs trembling in anticipation. Yoongi is so good at this, making you bend to his will with just a few words and guiding hands.

Yoongi’s breath is hot on your center as he peels your underwear to the side. You look down at him, pressing your dress flat to give you the perfect view. His dark eyes are focused on your cunt, his lips bubble gum pink, tongue darting out to wet them. His hair is fanned out around him, some pressed to his forehead.

Smirking, Yoongi uses one hand to pull you forward, lowering you to his mouth. You hold your breath as he drags his tongue slowly from your leaking entrance to just below your clit before rolling licking back down, ignoring your bundle of nerves entirely. Your toes curl, immediately going white hot at the slow feeling of his tongue dragging through your folds.

“Oh,” you sigh, eyes shutting as Yoongi hums and repeats the motion, determined to take his time.

With one hand wrapped in your dress, you lean forward, pressing the other hand against the wall to keep you upright. You hang your head down, heady-heavy, eyes falling shut as you heave shuddering breaths.

Yoongi’s tongue is wicked, laving up and down experimentally as you shake on top of him. He hums appreciatively, pulling you down to his mouth further by your ass. A sharp moan escapes you when he fastens his mouth to you, sucking your clit gently. The suction makes your head spin, your skin over warm and tingling, feeling faint in the dark room.

“Shit,” you pant, listening to him make a mess of you, all wet smacks and happy hums. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees. “Girl breakfast. Or is it wife breakfast?”

You’re too busy rolling your hips gently against Yoongi’s face to shoot something smart back, lost in the rough drag of his tongue against your cunt, the buzz of his mouth when he hums. You feel the way your stomach tightens, the way that pressure in your core builds, the tensing thighs.

The sweet, saturated sound of Yoongi’s mouth backtracks your whines, your fist pressed against the wall, knuckles popping with the force. Sweat slicks down the back of your neck and your thighs tremble as you fuck his mouth in earnest, hips flexing.

It feels hot in the room, your dress sticking to your skin, panties stretched to the side as Yoongi has his way with you. The strap of your dress falls down, abandoned as you quiver, your shoes and purse long forgotten by the door as you start to come undone.

“Come on,” Yoongi pants against your pussy, tongue prodding your throbbing hole. You squirm at the feeling, wanting more. “Breakfast is supposed to have juice too.”

Your laugh sounds hysteric, closer to a high-pitched cry than anything. Yoongi is vicious, pressing his nose to your clit as his tongue fucks your entrance, drinking you in. You’re dizzy, ears ringing as your orgasm mounts. You start to tense up, teeth clenched, fingers pressed numb against the wall.

Eyes shut, head back, balmy skin, you come hard in his mouth, Yoongi’s tongue pressed against you, not missing a drop. You feel fuzzy drunk, letting Yoongi control your hips. He moves you against his mouth, bobbing his lead as he slurps, dropping staccato mhmms as he goes.

When you’re falling into his lap, skin sweaty and panting, Yoongi sits up, the lower half of his face shining with your slick. He licks his lips, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “Thanks for the meal,” he teases. “I want more.”

A high-pitched zing whines through the air, drawing your attention to look at the fishing rod on the back of the boat. The reel spins out of control as the line runs wild, handle circling as the fish on the hooked fish runs wild with the line.

“Yoongi,” you gasp, turning back to him.

“Fuck the reel,” he growls, fingertips pressing into your hips hard enough throb.

The vinyl cover of the boat seat is slippery with sunscreen, sweat and a little cum. Sun heats your bare back. The burn on your shoulders is nothing to the fiery arousal spooling in your stomach as Yoongi pulls you up by the hips, dragging you along his slick cock.

It’s a calm day on the water, the only motion coming from the way you roll your hips, fucking Yoongi in earnest on the bow of the boat. Blue water glitters around you, reflecting the sun back up toward a cloudless, azure sky.

Salty wind cools the back of your neck as you throw your head back, gasping when Yoongi presses a thumb to your clit, circling slowly. The gentle lapping of the water against the hull is drowned out by the wet slap of your ass on Yoongi’s pelvis, already soaked from your first orgasm.

Your second high blazes through you hotter than the beaming sun. Yoongi growls between gritted teeth, his grip savage as he helps you fuck him. Up down, up down, up down. His chest is flushed and raked with angry red nail marks.

Fishing plans long forgotten, you continue to ride him, the feel of Yoongi’s cock stomach-deep, your walls gripping him tight as you race toward another orgasm. It feels so good, your knees slipping as the boat bobs under you, the up and down motion aiding the way you glide on his dick.

“Just like that,” Yoongi moans, head tossed back, hair damp and sweaty. He’s worked up, a beat of sweat dripping down his tan neck, jaw flexing as he tries to stop himself from coming. “Use me just like that, baby.”

And you do, the tip of his dick brushing your g-spot every time you slide down, working your closer and closer until you’re seated in his lap, cock pushed to the deepest parts of you while you come hard around him.

Yoongi waits for you to come down for your high, post-orgasm twitching and panting before he pins you to his chest and holds you while fucking up into you a few more times before he clenches his teeth and comes.

Hot and spent, you both melt into one another, skin sliding against skin as you lay on his chest. He softens inside of you and you become hyper aware of the slide of your mixed juices dripping from your folds and running down your leg. You don’t care, closing your eyes as you inhale deeply.

Eventually, Yoongi lifts his head to peer over your shoulder. You turn around to see that the line has broken on the road and Yoongi laughs, sounding exhausted.

“Fuck it,” he sighs, laying his head back down and tightening his hold on you. “I don’t care.”

“My wife is such a little slut,” Yoongi grins, leaning against the sink as you take him further into your mouth. “You love having a mouthful of cock, don’t you?”

Looking up at Yoongi with wide, teary eyes, you hum the affirmative. Dark blush creeps up his neck, his skin visible where the top button of his white shirt is undone. He looks to die for tonight, with his long, dark hair slicked back and just touching his shoulders, a white short-sleeved button up, and dark pants.

And you? You looked nice earlier, but now your dress is messy with sand from the bathroom floor, mascara running down you face as you swallow around your husbands cock, feeling your throat tighten as you force yourself to the limits.

You’d at least manage to pay the bill before dragging him into the palm-textured bathroom and dropping to your knees, ignoring the way stray grains of sand from the beachside restaurant burn your knees in favor of taking him into your mouth.

Yoongi slouches against the sink, his shoulders pressed into the mirror as he closes his eyes and angles his head back. You take him further into your mouth, letting spit escape the sides and run down your chin, working what you can’t fit with your hand. Your wedding ring flashes in the low light and drives you mad, loving the way the diamond looks on your hand while it’s wrapped around him.

You’re ravenous tonight, staring up at him with clenching thighs, watching the way Yoongi unravels. Pulling back, you pop off of him, strings of spit and precum connecting the brown tip of his cock to your lips. You break it, leaning forward to run your tongue along the frenulum of his cock, earning a whine from him.

Grinning, you continue your assault, dragging your tongue down the thick vein on the underside of his cock until you reach his balls, giving a teasing lick that makes his hips cant off the sink.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he warns. “I fucked you the way you asked for three times today, baby. Don’t I deserve to cum in that pretty little mouth?”

“Yeah?” you ask, pumping him with your hand as you come back up. “Want to come in my mouth?”

Yoongi’s hand shoots to the back of your head, fingers squeezing your skull. It’s not painful, but it’s firm, making you grin up at him, delighted. “Okay then,” you agree, tightening your fist on him a little more, pumping him a little fast. “Fuck my throat.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. Yoongi’s grip on the back of your head stays solid, a comforting feeling as you get a little dizzy from the way he looks down at you, eyes fathomless. Starving. He uses his other hand to prop himself against the sink before he drives his cock into your mouth.

The slide is rough and messy. You flatten your tongue and open up the back of your throat, the sound of you choking wetly around him drowning out the hiss of air between his teeth. You breathe through your nose, your hands gripping his thighs and digging your nails in hard into his flexing thighs.

Absently, you wonder if anyone walking by can hear the gurgle of your mouth, the stilted grunts as he flexes his hips.

Throat burning, eyes stinging and dripping tears, you let Yoongi go wild until he’s coming deep down your throat, a hot and thick mess. He pulls out gently, letting you gasp for air, mouth swollen and sticky as you pant.

Yoongi pulls you up from your knees, holding you tight as you lose your balance. His grip is crushing and he smashes his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste the mix of cum and spit, hungry for it.

When he pulls away, his lips are pink and slick and his chest is heaving.

“We’re going to miss that concert I bought tickets for,” you complain, giving him a pout.

“Fuck that concert, we’re going back to the hotel room and I’m going to fuck you for the next three hours, baby.”

Admittedly, hiking wasn’t the best event on your itinerary. When you’d planned the adventure originally, you hadn’t accounted for the fact that your legs would be near unusable from days of Yoongi folding you in half to drill into you, or the fact that the jungle is, in fact, hot and humid.

Yoongi walks next to you, his thumbs tucked into the straps of his backpack as he goes. His hair is pulled up into a bun, a few loose strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. He hasn’t complained once since starting the uphill trek through the trees and sifting sand, though you can tell he’s also spent from his inability to stop touching you this entire trip.

But you really want to attempt to get to a single thing on your itinerary for this trip, and the ruins will be out of the question tomorrow when it rains. So, you persist, legs wobbling as you high up the path, shirt sticking to you and scent of sunscreen following you like a coconut cloud.

“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” Yoongi askes, looking up at the gleaming sun filtering between branches. “We haven’t seen a single person.”

“There’s steps, aren’t there?” you ask, gesturing to the path. “There’s ruins that aren’t as much of a climb that everyone prefers. Plus, it’s hot as shit. I wanted to see the good ones though.”

“Anything for you.”

A few more minutes pass before Yoongi sees you lagging a little. The burn in your thighs is real, remembering acutely the way Yoongi had pressed them to your chest last night as he fucked you slow and deep. The memory makes you shiver, a post-orgasm twitch still haunting you an entire day later.

“Come on,” Yoongi urges. “It’s flat up here, we can step off the path and take a break.”

Yoongi finds some broken trees that have fallen sideways to sit on. You’re grateful, taking deep gulps of water. It immediately cools you down and you close your eyes, rolling your shoulders. Yoongi guzzles down water next to you, his arm pressed up against your.

After a few minutes sitting, you get up and turn to face the fallen tree, bending over at the waist to lean against it in a deep lunge, stretching your hamstrings. It’s a soothing sort of pain, the extension of muscle a relief.

Yoongi looks at maps on his phone behind you, waiting as you you switch legs and arch your spine, feeling a few joints pop in release. It feels good and you sigh, letting the tension bleed out of you.

Hands find your ass, gentle and curious. You look over your shoulder to find Yoongi looking at you with his brows raised and head tilted. A question. You know he’ll back off immediately if you shoo him away. Instead, You burst into laughter and shake your head, “Seriously?”

“What?”

You stare at him. He looks delicious, sweat dripping down his Adam’s apple, hair pulled back. He’s dressed simply and yet, looking at him looking at you, wanting you the way that he does makes you vibrate. It doesn’t matter how many times you have him, you always want him more. And again.

You married Yoongi for a myriad of reasons. Because he is gentle and kind, because you like the way he takes his coffee and reads the paper in the morning, because you like that he uses mint shampoo, because you like that he has to line his shoes up perfectly next to the door.

Everything about him enchants you, and you’re over the moon to have someone who doesn’t shame you for your carnal desires, that you have someone who matches the energy, who can take it and give it to you anywhere you want.

Yoongi is the perfect balance, always knowing when to initiate, always knowing when it's a good time.

“I know that look,” he smiles. “Now you’re thinking about it.”

“Can you be quick? I don’t want someone to stumble on us.”

“Fuck yeah I can,” he promises, dropping his backpack and popping the zipper on his pants. You let out a pathetic sound at the sight, earning a smug look from Yoongi.

Yoongi peels your legs and underwear down to your knees, just enough to get access to you but also safe enough to pull them up quickly if you need. His clothed chest presses against your back as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your middle in what seems like an innocent hug.

You gasp as the tip of his cock breaches your entrance, the stretch a little painful with no prep. It doesn’t matter, though. He pushes in slowly, letting you get used to it until he’s pressed in to the hilt, your pussy fluttering around him.

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers, pressing butterfly soft kisses to your cheek and temple. He starts thrusting shallowly, stealing your breath away. “You are my perfect, beautiful, wonderful wife.”

“Fuuuck,” you whisper. Yoongi isn’t fucking around, making his thrust precision perfect, pressing that soft spot inside of you. Your thighs are pressed together, making the fit even tighter, feeling him even more. “You’re just saying that cause I’m letting you fuck me against a tree.”

“Untrue, I say this all the time.”

That’s fair. Yoongi does tell you that he loves you. More often now than he used to, more verbal than his little utterances of love by readying your coffee long before you were awake in the morning or picking up the things you were missing from your pantry on the way home.

“You’re right,” you pant, head lolling to the side as his mouth seeks the heat of your throat. “I love you too”

The tree bark bites into your hand as you take him fully. With the way your legs are pressed together and the angle that you’re standing, it feels like Yoongi is punching to the very core of you, making the world spin. You think you might collapse over the tree if he weren’t holding you up.

“You’re just saying that cause I’m fucking you against a tree.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the fact that Yoongi picks up the pace, fucking you hard and with purpose. His hand slips between your legs, finding your clit and pinching it lightly, making you squeal and twitch. He laughs, choosing to circle it instead, working you faster toward an orgasm as he pounds into you, punching the breath from your lungs.

Sex with him is different every time. You don’t know how you manage to never get tired of it, but it never feels the same. Not with him. Every time feels like you’re discovering something new,

When you do come, you suddenly feel like you can run the rest of the way up to the ruins, energized on the endorphins alone.

“I’ve heard of post nut clarity,” Yoongi jokes, tucking his cock back into his pants. “But never post nut energy.”

“It’s like a second wind.”

“Dickened wind.”

You glare at him, tossing his backpack to him. “Stick to writing songs, not jokes.”

“You’re so fucking swollen,” Yoongi groans, thumbs peeling apart your folds. “Cute.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your face pressed down into the pillows of the daybed, ass up in the air with Yoongi behind you. The sound of the pool and anyone beyond the closed curtains of the banana are muted by the tropical music of the DJ. All the better to drown out the sound of your husband spitting onto your exposed heat.

“Cause you’ve been fucking me insane all week,” you protest, body vibrating. Yoongi hums thoughtfully but doesn’t say anything, letting his spin trail slowly down your slit. You’re already wet from the way his greedy mouth sucked at your chest. “Baby, please. I want your mouth.”

“Yeah? You all hot and bothered?”

“Yes.”

“Let me cool you off.”

Yoongi’s hands leave your ass for a moment. You’re too overheated from days in the sun and the rising tropical temperature to look at what he’s doing. You’re in a slow daze, a little buzzed from sweet drinks and Yoongi’s mouth, from sloppy kisses that taste like strawberry and Yoongi’s cute little sunburn on his ass from falling asleep after letting you drive him insane with your mouth on the private balcony the day before.

Now, you hear the clicking of something moving around the ice bucket. Your brows furrow and you’re about to turn your head to look at what Yoongi is doing when you feel ice cold water slow drip onto your ass.

“Shit,” you hiss, grabbing the edge of the daybed and arching your spin. The water is a cool burn, a relief that drives you mad as he makes a pleased sound. “Ohhh fuck, again.”

“More?”

“Fuck yeah.”

There’s the sound of more ice and Yoongi is dripping the cold water on your ass again, making your lower spine tingle and toes curl. The cold drips move closer to your cunt until he’s directly over your clenching hole. The shock of cold against hot sends you into a frenzy. You wiggle your ass back and forth, asking for more, eager for it.

Yoongi has never been one to deny you. This time, you feel his lips around an ice cube, dragging his cold kiss over the swells of your ass, letting the ice melt on his tongue before lapping at your pussy, tongue cold against your dripping heat.

It drives you mad. Your fingers ache with the way you clutch the pillows, pressing your face hard into the daybed as Yoongi does this a few times, bringing his cold lips to mouth hungrily at you until it’s all he’s focused on, forgetting the ice in favor of sucking greedily at your clit.

Your spine feels like it might crack, bowed dangerously as you press back into his face. He moans at your eagerness, tongue twisting between your folds as eats you out in earnest. If it weren’t for the privacy curtains and the DJ booth, you’d never get away with this. Yoongi is not quiet, smacking his lips like a glutton.

Air escapes you. You squeeze your eyes shut as an orgasm bears down on you. Your face is pressed so far in the cushions that you don’t think you can breathe, your lungs contracting and your chest squeezing as you come on his tongue without warning, a silent scream raging through you.

Stars burst behind your eyes. Yoongi takes it in stride, licking you long and slow as you remain rigid for the duration of your high. When it finally begins to subside, you fall to the side, sprawling boneless and feeling drunk.

“Holy shit,” you croak, voice gone. “You were right. Fuck the itinerary. This is so much better.”

#yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #suga smut #bts smut #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #halis happy agust #minors dni #minors do not interact

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cinnamoneve · 8 months

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𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲.

redamancy \ 'red-a-man-sE \ (n.) - the act of loving the one who loves you; loving in full.

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x fem!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: birthdays are always a drag for you. just a normal, boring day. gojo would never let you allow such a special day to be overlooked. ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 1k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: purely self indulgent. my 22nd birthday was sept. 1st and i unfortunately could not get this man out of my mind. please enjoy. and for my virgo babies, happy birthday ♡

warmth surrounds you as you slowly crack your eyes open.

“-py birthday to you!” you can hear a gentle voice singing, but you’re only conscious enough to make out the last few words.

the sun floods your bedroom to cast its amber light around you. you can’t remember the last time you’ve been up as the sun was rising.

when you get your bearings, you notice your boyfriend standing over you with a bouquet in his hands.

in the light, and in your exhaustion, satoru looked like a marble statue of a greek god–perfectly and meticulously carved by someone born with an eye cut out for beauty. with the windows behind him, his chiseled frame was outlined by light as if he came down from the heavens. the highpoints of his face and body were lightly illuminated by light trickling in from around the room. here he was with his hair tousled and just grey sweatpants, sleep still present in his beautiful blue eyes that seemed to glow.

and wow, he looked stunning. you weren’t sure whether to address the flowers or him first. but he stood, waiting, for you to notice one or the other. knowing him, probably the latter.

you rub your eyes and try to check the time. “satoru, what time is it?”

“6 a.m., good morning my love”

why are you up this early? last time you checked, today was your day to sleep in.

“and happy, happy birthday,” satoru leans down to give you a long, gentle kiss. he helps you to sit up in bed and hands you the bouquet.

“thank you honey, these are beautiful”

“there’s more,” satoru excitedly said, “don’t move, i’ll be right back”

you nodded your head, still a little out of it, and smiled as you watched him excitedly scurry out of your bedroom. if there’s anyone who loved your own birthday more than you, it was satoru. any excuse to celebrate you, shower and spoil you–how could he resist?

you hear satoru yell from outside the room, “close your eyes!”

doing as you’re told, you put the bouquet next to you and cover your eyes with your hands. in the darkness, you hear ruffling of tissue paper, porcelain shifting, and you feel something heavy placed on the bed around your legs.

“okay, open them”

the smell hits you first. the aroma of baked goods hits your nostrils, mixed with strawberries heightened by lingering vanilla and the sweetness of syrup.

strawberry pancakes. satoru made you strawberry pancakes in bed.

“how long have you been awake making these, satoru?”

“stop worrying about me and eat! don’t you think you deserve to be spoiled in bed on your special day?”

you haven’t been one to celebrate your birthday, to an extent. it was just another day to you, signifying something that doesn’t even feel like it’s really changing at all. since you’ve known satoru, he’s made a great effort to change your mind about it. he’ll take off work, save up for something you’ve wanted, and spend the entire day making sure you don’t lift a finger.

satoru was wearing an apron that said ‘kiss the cook,’ and you barely had time to process it when you first opened your eyes.

“thank you, handsome. this looks delicious”

satoru leaned down and pointed his cheek towards you, waiting for his kiss as payment. a little cheek kiss would right every wrong in the world, he’s convinced.

you turn his head to face you and kiss him sweetly on his pretty lips.

he pulls away before you two get carried away.

“eat while it’s hot,” he commanded.

“fine, have it your way” you respond.

since it's done its job, he takes off his apron and crawls back into bed with you. the sunshine grows warmer in the room as you and satoru take turns eating your pancakes. after all, satoru knows that anything he makes you, you’ll just end up sharing with him. he holds his hand underneath your chin while he feeds you the food he poured all his love into.

you two catch up on how you slept, what you dreamed about, and your plans for the day.

“you have to open your gifts first”

“do i have to?”

“don’t be ridiculous”

satoru pulls you out of bed and picks you up. despite your protests for him to put you down, he ignores them and walks into the living room.

you notice that he decorated the entire room with balloons, streamers, and fresh flowers that you love more than anything. it wasn’t here when you went to bed–how early did he wake up to set all of this up?

among the massive pile of presents carefully wrapped, satoru picked one out of the bunch for you to open first.

“this is too much satoru,” you laughed.

“i don’t think it’s enough, actually”

all the gift giving and attention made you bashful, but something about him just brought it out too. you still found yourself getting weak under his gaze with butterflies swirling in your stomach with every kind gesture he’d do.

“this one is from me” he stated.

you couldn’t help but shake your head and smile at him, “oh, shut up”

he sat close to you as you opened it, afraid to undo the ornate wrapping that satoru took his time with.

it was a dress. no, shoes? or, it was a purse.

actually, it was all three. satoru had gotten you an entire outfit all in one.

“i wanted you to wear something special today”

the dress looked like it would hug you in all the right places. satoru was not-so-innocently indulging himself as well just to get a glimpse of you in this dress.

the sentiment made your eyes get watery as you hold up the dress to get a better look at it.

“oh, i love it, satoru…but really, you didn’t have to go this crazy for–”

“oh, hush. i’m not listening”

satoru grabs you and moves you closer to him before kissing along your jaw.

“i love to spoil my girl”

you giggle as whatever stubble he has tickles your neck, which makes him giggle back.

he turns his attention back to the pile of gifts, mulling over what’s wrapped where so he can decide what to give you next.

it’s going to be a long day, you think. and usually, you’d find yourself dreading it, but something at the back of your mind tells you that today is just beginning.

all content © cinnamoneve 2023. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk #★ jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you #♡ satoru

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starry-eyesanddaydreams · 2 months

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NSFW Alphabet - Severus Snape

Time for our favourite potions master. (I think we all love Dom Severus, but I went with a bit of a different approach here, more like what I think he'd actually be like) Enjoy! ;)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You're usually the one taking care of him afterwards. But he likes to hold you tight and kiss lazily as you both come down off your high.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn't particularly like anything about himself, but if he had to choose, he'd say his hands. On you, it's your breasts. He loves how they feel, the softness, how you respond when he touches them. If you wear a fitted or low-cut shirt, he can be very easily distracted.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He accidentally saw a fantasy in your mind once. You were daydreaming about him being dominant with you, pulling you into the potions storeroom and having you against the wall. He does find the thought of being dominant with you a turn on, but he's not confident enough yet to suggest it. One day.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He was a virgin before you. He knew the basics in theory, but in practice he's learning as he goes with you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

You on top. His inexperience is mixed with insecurity and having you on top with plenty of physical contact and eye contact helps him feel more secure.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's not a goofy person just in general, and with this even less. Sex is still a very intense experience for him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It's not something he'd ever concerned himself with. But since he's been with you, he's starting to indulge in more self-care.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sex with Severus is very intimate. It took a lot of trust and love to get to this point and that really shows with how you make love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before you came into his life, he would every now and then just to take the edge off his stress. But now he thinks it an even more lonely thing to do. He'd much rather just wait until he can be with you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink. Outside of the bedroom, he’ll deny it entirely. But with you, when you tell him just how good he’s making you feel and how much you love him, he’s completely weak for it. He’s been denied words of love and encouragement for too long and from you he soaks up those words like a dry plant soaks up water.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In bed. After he got more comfortable, sometimes in the bath or shower. You might start making out on the couch or something, but he'll want to move to the bed before you go all the way.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you stand up for him. Sirius Black made the mistake of insulting Severus in front of you, and you cast a spell at Black to turn him green with purple spots and told him if he can't control his flapping mouth, you'd spell a muzzle on him. Sev started undoing the laces of your dress the moment you got home. When you brush his hair back and kiss this particular spot behind his ear on the side of his neck, he turns to putty in your hands.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No public sex. And no student/teacher roll play, he just can't.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves receiving, and he's found he enjoys giving too. Having you sit on his face is something he particularly enjoys.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and gentle.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not something he's really into. A quick make out session, maybe. But you both prefer to actually take your time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Given his inexperience, pretty much everything is an experiment to him. He's actually pretty vanilla and happy with that. What he has with you now is more than he ever though he'd have. But if you suggest something, he's usually willing to try it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Once is usually it. Physically he could go more, but emotionally it can get overwhelming.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not toys per se, but when feeling adventurous, you have experimented with a few spells and magic concoctions.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

As he gets more comfortable with sex and intimacy, he’s become more of a tease and enjoys finding ways to get you worked up.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's pretty quiet. Gasps and moans and hard breathing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Severus has issues about nudity, and it takes him a while to be comfortable with being fully naked around you. You worked on this bit by bit; foreplay while both fully clothed, letting him become familiar with your body first. The first time you had sex you were both still dressed. You always made sure he was comfortable and didn't push him for more than he could handle.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's big. Eight inches and nicely thick. (The bulge in his trousers does not lie. You know which scene I mean)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not high before, but the more your relationship progresses, the more his sex drive has started to increase.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sometimes he'll doze off fairly quickly, other times you may both be awake for half an hour or so cuddling and talking.

#Severus is dealing with being touch starved and traumatised #His whole life has been harsh #He needs soft gentle healing love #Sub Severus Snape #severus snape x reader #n s f w alphabet #severus snape #alan rickman

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

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Comparing you to their Ex-Girlfriend

Kuroo Tetsuro x Fem! Reader; Suna Rintaro x Fem! Reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: Angst to Comfort, the boys are MAJOR DICKS, swearing, alcoholism in Kuroos’, Kenma and Osamu taking their shots 😌, in Suna’s reader falls asleep in her car and it obviously looks weird but she’s just sleeping!

A/N: just me, being self-indulgent again 💅 I’m working on trying to improve my descriptive skills and I figured I’d share my attempts

Kuroo

You and Tetsuro had a great relationship. You had both worked hard to establish trust after your previously failed attempts at love. No relationship was perfect and you definitely had your fair share of troubles, often finding yourself disagreeing with your boyfriend over random things. You both had strong opinions and that was ok, you respected each other and made your relationship work.

Both you and Tetsuro worked long hours at your jobs. He was the sports promoter for Japan’s men’s volleyball and you worked hard in your chosen profession. While you had worked hard to establish a distinction between your home and work life, sometimes your boyfriend found it difficult.

He was always working, always scheming up new ways to bring awareness to the sport. His newest venture had been centered on creating an All Stars match featuring some of Japan’s finest players from all around the world.

You loved Tetsuro with your entire heart but you couldn’t help but feel second in his world at times. You understood how important it was to him and how hard he worked but you still struggled with sharing your boyfriend especially when he was at home.

You had been excited for the weekend, having planned an extravagant date for your and Tetsuro’s two year anniversary. He was coming home at 5 pm to shower and get ready, your reservations were set for 7pm at the cities hottest new restaurant. Your mutual friend, Kenma, had helped hook you up with reservations that were extremely hard to come by.

Everything was planned out perfectly, your outfit, makeup and hair were flawless. You had even splurged on a special lingerie set just for tonight. When 5pm rolled around and Tetsuro hadn’t showed up, you messaged him. You figured his meeting had run a little late but you weren’t too concerned. However, when 5:30 then 6 followed by 6:30 and 7 came you became extremely concerned. You hard called him a dozen times, text him well over that, concerned something serious might have happened.

At 7:45pm, the door finally opened as you shot up from your seat on the couch. You watched as your boyfriend strolled in, tie lose and looking exhausted. He set his briefcase down, before taking his shoes off and looking at you.

“Hey baby, sorry I’m late today was ridiculous! What’s for dinner? I’m starving,” he said, removing his tie and walking into your shared bedroom. You stared at him, completely flabbergasted by how he was acting. Had he really forgotten? This had to be some sick joke.

“Tetsuro,” you said as he hummed a response and walked out into the living room.

“Wow babe you look incredible! Did you have a work meeting today?” He said making his way to the kitchen, “are we ordering our tonight? I hope it’s from that dumpling place we got last week!”

You continued to stare at him, your eyes practically drying out from not blinking, “Tetsuro did you forget we were going out tonight?”

He stopped, turning and sighing, “YN I’m so sorry- my boss came into town and he wanted to see how the developments were coming along, I completely spaced it.”

“And you completely spaced answering your phone or at least letting me know you’d be late? I was worried sick Tetsuro!” You shouted, angry not only because your plans were ruined but because he didn’t even think to let you know about what was going on.

“YN it’s not that big of a deal, we can go out to that place anytime. I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he responded as he came closer, extending his arms as you backed away.

“No Tetsuro, you always promise me and you never deliver. I’ve been flexible, I’ve been accommodating because I know you love your job but it seems that I need to be volleyball shaped in order to get any attention!” You shouted as he narrowed his gaze on you.

“YN don’t you think you’re overreacting? You said it yourself, you how important this is to me,” he said as you stood there, mouth agape.

“Tetsuro, I’m asking for you to be a boyfriend to me, to give me a little time and affection and you think I’m over exaggerating?” You yell. You were so mad and you had every right to be. You stood there, staring at him as he shook his head and began to mumble, “speak up Tetsuro! I know you have something you want to say!”

“I never had this problem when I was with Ally! She knew how important my work was and she never bothered me like you do!” He spat out as you reeled back. How could he bring her up? How could he stoop so low as to bring up the one person who had made you fell inferior.

Ally was Tetsuro’s ex girlfriend and his first love. She had broken up with him right after college when she decided to move abroad. When you met him, he was heartbroken and you slowly worked to help mend what she had wrecked and now he had the audacity to bring her up?

You turned, grabbing your keys and your phone and began walking towards the door. You slipped on your heels, opening the door and leaving Tetsuro standing in the kitchen, absolutely stunned at what he had said. He hadn’t thought about her in so long, why did her memory come flooding back in that moment?

He heard the door close as his breath hitched, realizing you had left. “Fuck- FUCK!” He shouted as he quickly grabbed his keys and ran after you, only to find your car gone. He paced in your parking spot, hand pulling at his hair as the words sank in.

Meanwhile, you drove, mascara running freely down your cheeks as you sobbed and pulled up to an apartment building. Getting out, you walked up the stairs and hit the buzzer.

“Hello?” A voice answered

“K-Kenma, it’s Yn! Can I come up please?!?” You cried as the door buzzed and you ran into the building, Kenma meeting you at his door. You fling yourself into his embrace as he rubbed your back.

“YN are you ok? Is Kuroo ok? What happened?!?” Kenma said, panicked as you pulled away.

“He-he was late coming home and we were suppose to go out for dinner for our anniversary. When he came home, he completely forgot about our plans, saying some bullshit about his boss coming or something,” you blubbered out, “and when I confronted him, he got defensive and then- then he said how Ally would have never bothered him about his work!”

You cried harder as Kenma sighed and hugged you close. Kenma knew all about Ally and how she had broken Kuroo. He knew how much he had loved her and how broken he was when she left. He had spent many late nights up with his friend, talking him down from flying across the world for a girl who didn’t want to be with him or picking his friend up, wasted at the bar and puking because of the pain he felt.

However, all of that changed when Kuroo met you. You made him happy again, you made him smile and laugh more than anyone else ever had. Kenma remembers how the memory of Kuroo’s former love faded, and how it was replaced with the love for you. He knew Kuroo loved you more than life itself, but he couldn’t deny how stupid his friend had been.

“Come on in Yn, let’s talk ok?” Kenma said as you nodded and the door behind you closed.

Kuroo sat in your apartment, eyes red with tears as he cried. How could he do something so awful, say something so unforgivable to you? He thought back to before he met you and how he knew his relationship with Ally was ending. He thought about how she pulled away, saying “I love you” less and less until she finally told him she was leaving and wanted to end the relationship. He was so broken, so pained from the experience of losing his first love.

He drank to numb the pain, sometimes staying late at his office and passing out with a whiskey in his hands. He thought he’d never be able to find someone again. Then, like an Angel, you appeared at his office door. You were so beautiful, so incredibly perfect. It was like God himself had placed you there. You helped him pull himself out from the drinking, from the self-loathing into loving himself again. It was because of you that he had become so successful at work, your support always spurring him on.

He rested his head on his hands, looking at his phone as his background lit up from a notification. The picture was of you two on the night he had confessed his love to you. You were both so happy, your smile filling the screen.

He stood up, grabbing his shoes and slipping them on, his keys and phone going to his pocket. He knew exactly where you went, where you always went, where he would go.

It was late when his car pulled up behind yours, relieved he had been right and that you were safe. He ran up the stairs, ringing the buzzer to his friends apartment.

“Come one come on- hello?!?” He said as the button beeped and he swung the door open. Kenma greeted him in the hallway, standing guard at the door with a scowl on his face.

“You’re an idiot,” he said

“I know-”

“Literally the scum of the earth!” Kenma growled

“I know-”

“I should call Bokuto to come kick your ass!” Kenma whisper shouted

“And I’d deserve it,” Kuroo said as he looked at his friend, “I fucked up- I royally fucked up dude and I hate myself. I hate myself for hurting her and I know I don’t deserve her but she deserves to know how sorry I am.”

“Be quiet when you go inside, she’s sleeping,” Kenma said, moving out of the way as Kuroo walked in. He saw you curled up, asleep on the couch as he quietly approached you. Your face was stained with tears, indicating how badly his words stung. He sat down, next to the couch and watched you as Kenma watched from the corner. He gently grazed you face, moving your hair from it.

“YN, baby,” he said as you gently woke up, your eyes softly meet his teary ones, “baby I fucked to so bad and I’m so sorry. I know I hurt you and I know I don’t deserve you. You’ve made my life worth living and I love you so much. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me and I’ll gladly leave the apartment for a while but please, just know how incredibly sorry I am. I’m not going to make any excuses for what I did or said. I shouldn’t have forgotten about your anniversary and I shouldn’t have said such awful things. I’m a terrible boyfriend and you are so fucking incredible. You’ve supported me in everything and I ruined it all.”

You laid there, your eyes tearing up as you listened to him. As much as his words stung, knowing how awful he felt for saying them and what he had done hurt worse. You sat up, reaching for his cheek as you caressed it.

“Tetsu, I love you more than anything and it really hurt me when you said those things. I really try to let you do your job because I know how important it is but I also miss you. I miss seeing you and spending time with you and I just wanted us to have a nice night,” you said, tears flowing as he looked at you.

“I know baby, and I’m so sorry for everything! I promise, no more working late. If I can’t get it done by 5pm, I’ll leave it for the next day. I want to be there for you YN,” he said as you smiled.

“That’s all I ask Tetsuro.”

Suna

You had known Rintarō a while before you started dating the middle blocker. You had always been attracted to him and when he finally asked you out, you were ecstatic.

Your relationship was good and solid. You had your fair share of ups and downs but what relationship didn’t? You and Rin argued occasionally about minor things, sometimes going to bed angry but then eventually sorting out your issue over the next few days. No fight had ever been serious enough to warrant more than the silent treatment for, at max, a day.

Being the girlfriend of a middle blocker for a professional volleyball team was not only exhausting but also time consuming. You always went to Rin’s games, traveling a few hours if you had to just to show your support and while he never explicitly told you, you knew he appreciated it.

Thankfully, his most recent game was at home against a revival team. Rin did exceptional, per the usual, with EJP beating the opposing team in straight sets. You cheered as the men all lined up to thank their fans, as you quickly hurried to the court.

The usual flood of fan girls overran the team as you tried to make your way to your boyfriend. “Hey YN! Thanks for coming out! Rin’s over there,” Washio, Rin’s fellow middle blocker, said as you hugged him and made your way over to your boyfriend.

You smiled and waved as he nodded at you, the girls surrounding him as he tried his best to calm them. “Ladies please,” he said as you stood back, waiting patiently. He would usually come over to you, giving you a kiss and hugging you in front of everyone. You had never been insecure about your relationship, especially knowing Rin was a superstar because he always made time for you.

However, as he continued to smile and sign autographs, you stood there waiting and waiting and waiting. Soon, twenty minutes had passed and Rin hadn’t come up to even acknowledge your existence. You figured he was just excited, this was a big game after all and he definitely deserved to celebrate but when he headed to the locker room, not even acknowledging your existence, that you deflated.

He had never ignored you for this long or failed to acknowledge your presence. You sighed, waiting for him to emerge from the locker room. When he finally did, you wait again as he talked with Komori, the teams Libero. In fact, it wasn’t until Komori waved at you, that Rin finally seemed to acknowledge you were waiting.

“Oh hey babe, I’ll meet you at home ok? Im going out with the guys for dinner!” He said before waving at you and rushing from the gym. You stood there, hands clasped as you nodded, trying hard not to let your emotions take over. Your turned on your heels, heading to your car and going home to your empty apartment.

When Rin finally came home, it was almost 11pm. You sat up, from on the couch as he entered and removed his shoes. “Man I’m beat! Im going to head to bed babe,” he said, kissing the top of your head as you stared at him. He had barely acknowledged you at all tonight and all you wanted to do was celebrate with him.

Since you and Rin had always had an open relationship, you decided that it was best to express your concerns to him. Maybe he just needed to be reminded that you were there to support him.

“Hey Rin, uhh you didn’t hug me or kiss me tonight after the game,” you said, standing in the doorway of the bedroom as he took his shirt off, throwing it beside the laundry basket.

“Yeah sorry I was busy. It was kind of a big night ya know?” he chuckled as he went to your en suite, grabbing his face wash and continuing about his routine.

“It- it just kind of hurt you know? You always kiss me after a game,” you said, playing with your fingers as you looked into the bathroom mirror. You saw him roll his eyes as he shook his hands, grabbing a towel to dry them.

“Geez Yn it was one time for fucks sakes, please tell me you aren’t going to make a big deal out of this and ruin what WAS a good night?” He said, walking out of the bathroom and past you to the bed.

“Rin, I’m not trying to ruin your night, it’s just that, well I’m feeling a little unappreciated I guess,” You said as he looked at you, confusion growing on his face.

“Seriously Yn? You really want to do this now? Im exhausted and I’m not in the mood,” he began to shout as you whinced, not wanting to start anything but knowing what you had to say was important.

“Rin I-”

“You know, Jenna never acted this way after I won a game. I’d come home and she’d let me be!” He spat as you stood frozen. You couldn’t be he had brought her up, of all the people, why her? You felt your body heat up, your emotions overtaking you as you watched Rin get into bed and turn the light off.

How could he have said that? How could he have possibly brought his past girlfriend up? You knew about Rin and Jenna, how they had mutually broken up a few months before you met him. He didn’t seem to hold any animosity towards her but he never talked much about her and certainly he’d never brought her up during a fight.

Slowly backing out of your shared room, you closed the door as your eyes filled with tears. Not only had he utterly tore you down but he brought up someone from his past, something he knew would hurt you.

You mindlessly walked to the kitchen, grabbing your keys and purse before turning off the lights and silently leaving your apartment. You headed to your car, sitting in the drivers seat as the emotions finally hit. You let it all out, whaling as the tears fell in waves. You couldn’t scream, you couldn’t make any noise, everything was caught in your throat as you tried but failed to let it out. Finally, managing a breath, your body shuttered as you screamed, your head resting on your steering wheel as you continued to cry.

Rin tossed and turned in bed, his body exhausted but he couldn’t sleep. He had instantly regretted what he said about his ex, mentally berating himself for ever saying anything. He thought about what you said, about how you felt. He hadn’t meant to ignore you, he had just gotten caught up in all the excitement of winning. He felt like a complete ass, letting you walk out after he had said such awful things.

He noticed the light in the living room was dim, figuring you had just fallen asleep on the couch. He’ll admit this wasn’t the first time you two had slept apart due to a fight but this time he knew it was all his fault. Truthfully, he hated being without you, he hated sleeping alone. He loved how cuddly and soft you were next to him. He loved the feeling of your body and how your love for him poured into everything you did.

He knew how lucky he was, you came to every game, even to the ones that were several hours away. Hell once your even flown to Europe to see him play in an international match. He knew what true love was and how he had failed to show you that.

Looking at the clock, he saw it was 3:00am. He sat up, throwing the covers off as he stood in just his shorts and walked to the door. His plan was to grab you from the couch, hold you and apologize. He would make it up to you tomorrow, taking you out on a fabulous date to show his appreciation for everything you did for him.

He flipped on the hall light, walking out to the living room. He looked to the couch, noticing it was empty. Confused, he turned and headed to the spare bedroom, knowing fully well you never slept in there because “it was only for guests.”

He threw the light on, his eyes widening when you weren’t in there. “YN!” He shouted as he ran back to your shared bedroom, turning the light on and running to the bathroom. There was no sigh of you as he ran to the living room, turning on every light he could.

His hands went to his hair as he frantically raked through it, worried about where you might be. He ran to the kitchen and the guest bathroom, noting no trace of you.

“YN- shit!” He shouted as he turned, noticing your purse and shoes were gone.

“FUCK!”

He raced back to the bedroom, grabbing his phone before hitting your number, “pick up, come on baby pick up!” He packed back and forth, your phone continuing to ring until it finally hit voicemail.

“Fuck!” he shouted, pulling up the only other person he could think as he sat on the edge of his bed and raked through his hair, his knee bouncing as he waited for an answer.

“Hello?” A groggy voice answered.

“Samu! It’s Rin, have you heard from YN?” He spat out

“What? What fucking time is it?” Osamu said as he groaned, “dude it’s 3am! Why the hell would I have heard from YN? She’s your girlfriend!”

“I fucked up Samu, I fucked so bad man and now she’s fucking gone! She’s never left before man, fuck what do I do?!?” Suna panicked as tears began to fill his eyes. You two had fought before but you had never left, in fact you’d never leave without telling him where you’d go.

“What happened?” Osamu said, sounding more awake than before, his voice carrying as he made his way to the kitchen.

“I- I shit man! She was upset because I didn’t kiss her after the game and when she brought it up to me, I brought up how Jenna would never act that way,” he sighed, his head hanging low at the words resurfacing. He thought of what he said making him sick. He never loved Jenna, in fact, his relationship with her was one of convenience. It wasn’t until he met you that he learned what being in a partnership was really like. How it felt to have someone supporting you and being there when you needed them.

“Damn Rin, what the fuck man? Dude that’s low!” Osamu said as Rin nodded his head

“I know I fucking know! She’s gone dude, and she’s not answering her phone! What if something happened to her? Fuck I’ll never be able to live with myself!” He cried as Osamu sighed.

“Ok listen, I’m sure YN is fine. She’s a smart girl. She’s really upset right now and I don’t blame her. You need to give her some breathing space man,” he said as Rin stood up, pacing once more.

“I can’t- I can’t I have to find her! Fuck man I can’t lose her she’s it for me, she’s the one!” He shouted, tears now overflowing.

“Ok, come over and we can regroup here. I’ll try calling her, maybe she’ll answer for me,” he said as Rin quickly threw on his shoes and grabbed his keys, locking the door before running to the elevator.

“I’ll be there in 5,” he said, hanging up as he raced to his car. In the parking garage he noticed your car was still parked next to his, making his heart drop. His worst fears were coming true. You’d never leave without your car, there was no way!

Approaching the spot, he noticed a figure slumped over the steering wheel. His eyes widened, adrenaline racing as he realized that it was you.

“Fuck FUCK!” He screamed as he ran to your door, throwing it open as you shot up, heart pounding as you met the eyes of your boyfriend.

“Rin what-”

No more words escaped as you were tackled in your seat by your giant boyfriend, his cries penetrating the vehicle as he hugged you tight.

“Fuck baby are you ok?? God I’m so fucking sorry! Im the biggest idiot ever to exist and I should have never said any of those things!” He cried as you embraced him, memories slowly coming back to you.

“Rin, where’s your shirt?” You asked as he looked at you, shaking his head and looking down at his shirtless form.

“I couldn’t sleep. I felt like the biggest ass ever and I went to apologize to you. I couldn’t find you and I panicked. I was so afraid you had left me for good Yn. I know I would have deserved it but I don’t think I’ve been so scared in all my life baby!” He said, pulling you close in the awkward space.

You rubbed his back, feeling bad for causing him so much worry. “I’m sorry for leaving but I had to get out, what you said really hurt me,” you said as he looked in your eyes, his heart crushed that he had caused all of this.

“Baby don’t apologize! This is all my fault! I should have never treated you like that. I love you so much and I took advantage of everything you do. I’m sorry for ever saying those things to you. You are the most important person in my entire life and I love you more than you’ll ever know. I know I don’t show you and I’m going to change that baby, I promise!” He said as you caressed his cheek.

“I forgive you Rin,” you said with a small smile as his lips collided with yours as he pulled you close.

“I love you so fucking much Yn!” He said, putting his forehead to yours.

“I love you too Rintaro.”

2K notes · View notes

mooishbeam · 3 months

Text

『♡』 Strawberry Lemonade

♡ featuring: toji x f!reader

♡ synopsis: you plan to make strawberry lemonade for the summer, but life has other plans. wc: 1.7k+

♡ cw/tw: just some fluff, toji kisses :3

notes: idk why i kept thinking about soft cottagecore toji my brain fhioshafiohiaf this was so self indulgent srry for any mistakes ive been sick for a few weeks lol <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

After heavy rain showers, sun rolled in and devoured everything beneath it.

Toji doesn’t like summer. He wasn’t exactly fond of the heat rays rippling across the pavement, his black slides bonding like tar if he stood in one place for too long. His bangs would mat to his forehead, and it was overall a hassle to tolerate. He’d much rather laze under air conditioning for the entire season.

Until you came along.

He’d never met someone so delighted over sweat and mosquitos before you. Maybe that’s why he slowly became accustomed to such weather. You weren’t shy about your strange habits. After all, on your third date it poured like no other, and instead of taking cover, you skipped through the rain. It was strange, yet he cracked a smirk at your wide grin.

You’re happy and that’s good enough for him.

You were elated at the promises summer bore, specifically for your plants. Fruitful flowers meandering on branches, the first sign of hibiscus blooming. Every year around that time, you carried your plants outside to bask in her warmth. It was all an invaluable gift from Mother Nature, and you did your best to honor her.

Of course, Toji had to purchase a house with the most sunlight, and a backyard to match—not with you in mind, at least that’s what he’d day as he avoided your gaze. He knew your housewarming gifts would consist of planting tools, but the sheer amount of it was staggering.

It was no surprise you planted your seeds the next day and watched them like a hawk. Toji was sure to mention how much of a “weirdo” you were for spending so much time caring for your perceived babies. A weirdo he loved, because he left marks of his affection in every nook and cranny. Sure, he feigned annoyance over it, but you knew better when he did things you didn’t ask for. Toji isn’t a verbally expressive husband, but his actions make up for the rest.

Like when he built a wooden potting bench to store the inventory accumulating in the corner by your plants. You came home as he was applying the finishing touches and embraced him for what felt like hours. He rolled his eyes, pretending to be unfazed by your gratitude, though you could still see the growing ghost of a smirk; “Don’t thank me, that thing was an eyesore.”

It benefited him, too, to gaze through the screen door in the afternoon and see the gorgeous sun-kissed glow on the apples of your cheeks. He adored your soft eyes that diligently monitored the seeds starting to sprout with a tender smile.

You filed chunky soil into terracotta pots you painted with various designs. The one that resembles a tiny cactus with a face grew a bundle of basil. The other one similar to a tiered strawberry cake grew a fitting crown of strawberries. You weren’t looking to bake an outstanding cake or be the best gardener. For the fruits of your labor, the only thing you wanted was—

A single pitcher of strawberry lemonade.

Toji trudges down the stairs half-asleep and enters the kitchen to pour the usual cup of coffee you make as you wake before him. However, there’s no jug awaiting him. He opens the screen door and finds you kneeling over the pots, sporting a bow knot straw hat and an overall romper in the sweltering heat. Your brows are furrowed, and you pick at the foliage.

He leans against it and scratches his ankle with the tip of his slides. The screen clicks the side, and you turn to him.

“Oh, hey.” There are somber notes in your voice, and something in his body wants to reach out and protect you from whatever’s pulling your face into a frown.

“Hey.” He walks over to you. Your lips are tucked behind your teeth, poking at the strawberry in your palm. He kneels on one knee and you glance at him, flashing a meek smile. He wishes he didn’t have a closer view as your eyes threaten to brim with tears. Oh…his heart, tight and struggling to beat.

Toji was used to loud, ugly love. But you—your love was as gentle as the petals of an orchid, and you’d changed him without even trying. That’s why he adorned your ring finger with precious diamonds. He became a better man and husband in your arms, and in turn he’d give you the world if you desired it. So why were you about to cry?

“What’s up?”

“Nothing…” His eyes follow yours, to the flourishing bunch of basil. And then to the lackluster strawberries.

The ones still hanging from their stems aren’t award-winning. They’re deformed, with multiple nubby ends protruding from every side. They look more like hopeful raspberries than anything else. There’s a considerable pale color washed over half of them. You mold one in your palm.

“Can’t be nothin’.” He picks the strawberry from your hands and observes it with two fingers. It lacks seeds and a deep, rich red. “I just don’t know what went wrong.”

"Who said somethin' went wrong?" You lock eyes, and he pops it in his mouth.

Yours widen, and you cup his face to try and force it out his mouth. “Don’t!”

Toji bites, and in an instant utter sourness prickles his tongue. There’s a strawberry flavor, but not enough to combat. The sting is strong, and when it coats his throat, his tongue contorts to fight the sheer bitterness.

Somehow, he remains stone-faced—a battle with his gut reaction. He can’t bear to break your spirit, not like this, not when you’ve spent months strategizing and waiting for your efforts to ripen. Toji tells the harsh truth, but when it comes to you, he’s willing to be selfish.

He continues to chew while you nervously fiddle with your fingers. You gaze at him, doe-eyed and anticipating his response. The lining of his cheeks excretes copious amounts of saliva, and he finally swallows.

“S’good.”

“R-really?” You’re shocked that they’re edible in this state. He nods and it relieves some of your worry, though you’re unsure about his honesty.

He thumbs the wetness on your lashes away. “Said I like it, so make some of that lemonade ya talked about so much.”

You place a handful of strawberries on the kitchen counter and get to work. You haven’t tried them out for yourself yet, but you don’t want to waste any considering how small they are. Toji stretches out on the chair, black tank riding up as he watches you slice the tips off the strawberries. Your delicate fingers handle them with such care, just so you don’t disappoint with an unpalatable drink. Cute.

When you’re done, the rose-colored liquid fills half the pitcher. You top it with basil and stir it around. You pass a glass to Toji, heart-shaped ice cubes floating on the surface, and sit across from him.

“Let’s try on the count of three.”

“Mhm.”

“Okay! One, two-“ Toji doesn’t stop for the counter and begins to gulp the drink. You take a sip of yours. The tooth-rotting sugar did some to quell the taste, but it was still insanely sour. Your lips purse and you shut your eyes, emitting a tiny squeal. It’s your first attempt and you know you shouldn’t be so critical of yourself, but you can’t help but feel like a failure.

When you open your eyes again, you’re dumbfounded at the empty cup in front of Toji. He licks his lips, “It’s good, baby. Why you look like that?”

“No way.” He tilts his head like he didn’t just consume a liquid jawbreaker. “Hm?”

“It’s…it’s really bad, Toji. You don’t have to lie to me.” You avert your eyes and stare at the condensation running down the glass of your unsuccessful project. He wraps around the table and leans against it while you’re sitting. He cranes your neck with a calloused hand underneath your chin.

“Look at me. I’m here”

“I really wanted it to work. I spent so much time on it.”

“I know, don’t take it so hard. I like it.”

“You just don’t wanna hurt my feelings.” You weren’t entirely wrong.

“It tastes good 'cause you made it.” When you don’t respond, a malicious smirk spreads on his mouth. “Wanna try?”

Toji bends down. He squeezes your face to puckering and plants a deep kiss on your lips. Rough and meaningful, and you melt into it. He releases his grip and follows it with warm plush kisses chasing your contact. His lips are soft but slightly chapped, fleeting hints of cane sugar and just enough basil to notice. Bitter like the descent of a bleeding sunset, the chill of autumn’s return. Silent assurance, that everything was okay, and will be okay.

He parts when you tap his sturdy bicep for fresh air. “Ya done bein’ a baby?” You giggle. Perhaps you overwhelmed yourself obsessing about it for months. He brings you back to Earth, and after the overthinking subsides, you think the outcome isn’t too horrible. A long deserved break is overdue.

“Yea” you sniffle, and he lifts you from the chair into his arms. You lock your legs around his back and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Now c’mon, I wanna lay down.” Lay down is his go-to phrase, but he actually means cuddle. He’d never say it, even when lying down quickly became Toji turning on his stomach and shuffling his massive weight onto your chest. It’s what you need right now, and the way his palm rubs up and down your back reduces your mind to mush.

“I’m being a bother” you mutter. He pecks your jaw.

“Nah. Love takin’ care of my little crybaby.”

Laying down becomes cuddling as you predicted, and you massage his scalp until he dozes off in slow breaths. Your favorite weighted blanket traps you between his muscles, and you happily accept.

You’re reminded of his vulnerability, his eagerness to trust without words. He took your problems and made them his. You both surrendered your fears and insecurities to love each other. You traded walls for strawberry kisses, and there’s nothing more you could ask for.

Daylight peaked at its highest point, and as you drift to sleep you wish summer wouldn’t end.

#toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #jujutsu toji #toji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk

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amyispxnk · 4 months

Text

My Sunshine

Summary - Things are getting bad again and you know Joel would be there to help you in the blink of an eye, but you can't help but feel guilty for even feeling this way - so burdening him with your emotions is out of the question. You try to hide how you feel from him, but you know you can't. He knows you too well.

A/N: SO. i am positively struggling at the moment. with life and just everything. and my lonely ass is in need of some comfort, especially when i feel like.. yk, shit. and feeling like doing shit to myself which is not very good 😊. but i could not find a single comforting fic about self harm, and i get that it’s a very sensitive subject - but my god i need this comfort so please let me indulge for a moment.

And going back to how self harm is a very sensitive subject - please heed the warnings and tread carefully. this entire thing is about self harm and comfort when struggling with it, so please be cautious.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (could possibly be read as gn but I've used things like sweet girl and his girl so)

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: self harm (not explicitly described or anything, but reader struggles with it), fluff, comfort, established relationship, angst, one mention of drugs (i used it as a.. simile, or whatever, nobody’s taking or has taken any drugs!), crying, kisses, pet names, bad thoughts, questioning the purpose of life, brief perspective change, INCREDIBLY BRIEF MENTION OF SMUT (one word.)

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Joel opens the door with a sigh, toeing off his boots and calling out your name as he walks into the living room, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around you, breathe in your comforting scent and bask in your equally comforting embrace after a hard day of work. Normally you’d be in the living room, watching TV, maybe reading a book, or in the kitchen, cooking dinner, baking something new you’d found on the internet. But you weren’t today. It’s eerily quiet and he calls out your name again, breaking the silence with his loud voice as he walks up the stairs.

“Dariln’?” He asks as he pushes open the door to your bedroom; you’re not there either. He’s ready to start panicking since he’s checked just about every room of the house when he hears your voice coming from the bathroom.

“Just a minute!” You say, and he exhales with relief when you walk out of the room and up to him, giving him a small smile. It’s one of those smiles which doesn’t make your face look brighter or your eyes crinkle at the corners, no, it’s one of those smiles which you offer to him quickly to reassure him that everything’s okay, please don’t worry about me when you’re probably so stressed already.

“How was work?” You ask as your arms come around his neck and you hug him, breathing him in, holding him a little tighter than usual.

“Was a little tiring today, our supplier messed up the size of the headers and- Sorry, probably don’t mean nothin’ to ya.” He trailed off with a sheepish smile as his right hand came to the back of your neck, tilting your head back a bit so he could kiss you.

You melted into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in it. No matter how many times you kissed him, you’d never get enough of the feeling that came with it. Joel's kiss was like a drug, and you were addicted.

His hands skim up your sides but you pull back abruptly, wrinkling your nose. “You smell, Joel. Go shower.” You chuckle weakly and hit him playfully on the chest.

“Mm, I thought you like ‘em a little dirty?” He teased, making you scoff and shake your head as a smirk crept onto your lips.

“Not today. Get.” You told him sternly, still smiling nonetheless as he walked past you to go shower. The smile slipping from your face with ease as the door slides shut behind you.

A few hours later, showers have been taken, dinner made and eaten, and the both of you are now sat on the couch. Joel decided it was a good idea to watch a movie, putting on his favourite - Curtis and Viper 2 - much to your dismay. You swore that you’ve seen this damn movie so many times you’d be able to quote the entire thing word for word, but he still put it on, insisting that it was a classic and it wasn’t like you had any better ideas anyway.

You'd both come to learn that during movie nights, you'd always end up either falling asleep on his shoulder or you were both fucking before even the halfway mark.

Tonight you were curled into Joel's side, silently watching the movie with him. Well, not really watching the movie, just kind of watching the screen. Staring at the pixels and letting the sounds of the film and the world around you in through one ear, out the other.

You were lost in your thoughts, that was happening more often nowadays, mindlessly picking at your nails as you pondered on questions that were far too heavy to ponder this late at night. What's the point of life if we're all going to die one day? Why am I always so hopeless? Why can I never find the purpose in anything? Why am I getting worse at hiding these bad feelings? What if I get too miserable one day and Joel stops loving me? What if I'm just a burden to him?

The final two questions hit you hard, making you do a sharp inhale as you suddenly sit up, startling Joel in the process.

He turns to face you wearily, eyebrows furrowed. “Baby? What's wrong?” He asks quietly, arm coming around you and pulling you back into his side as he kisses your hair.

“‘s nothing. Sorry. Just tired- I think I'm gonna go to sleep.” You mumble, gently extracting yourself from his hold.

He frowns deeper. “Y’ don't wanna stay with me and finish the movie? Even though I know you weren't watching.” He attempts to tease lightly, wanting to lift the mood.

“No, um- you stay and watch it, that's okay. I'm gonna go to sleep now. Goodnight.” You say hurriedly, forgetting to even give him a goodnight kiss before you're up the stairs and in the bedroom, closing the door a little too quickly and praying the slam of it didn't further his concern.

Your back is pressed against the door as you grip the handle tight, eyes squeezing shut as you try to slow your breathing. It's not working, and you just want it to stop. You don't want to be upset, you don't want to feel like you're drowning in your own emotions again, you don't want Joel to find you crying upstairs in your room.

And the only thing you can think of doing is harming yourself. It's been on your mind a lot recently, as your sadness starts to get a little bit too much and you can't find any way to extinguish it. It feels like it's consuming you and you can only think about the last time things got like this. About how you dealt with it.

It would be so easy. You knew how to do it. But you couldn't bring yourself to. You'd be failing him, you saw how upset he was when he found out what you were doing last time and you didn't want to make him feel bad ever again.

You just didn't want to be a burden.

The door slams upstairs and Joel’s frown deepens. His hand goes for the remote, turning off the TV. He's seen this movie enough times, he thinks.

He slowly goes up the stairs and makes his way to your bedroom, wanting to make sure everything's okay.

You were definitely a little off tonight, zoning out and not being as talkative as you normally were, giving him a reason to already be a little concerned. Then you practically ran upstairs a minute ago, seeming panicked and making him worry even more.

He's at the door now, gently coaxing it open, and he's met with darkness. Darkness and silence.

He whispers your name, closing the door behind him as he flicks the light switch on, jumping slightly when he sees that you're right there, sat on the edge of the bed.

You turn to face him and he immediately notices how your face is wet with tears, eyes swollen and red, hair slightly dishevelled.

His heart effectively breaks at the sight of you.

“Baby- what's wrong?” He asks, concerned as ever, as he rushes over to you.

You rub at your eyes furiously, blinking back any further tears as you swallow.

“Nothing- nothing's wrong, Joel-” Your voice wavers as you speak and there's clearly something wrong - why you try so hard to hide it from him is beyond him.

He gently pulls your hands away from your face and holds them together in your lap.

“There's somethin’ wrong, sweetheart. I can see it.” He says softly, his thumb brushing away another tear that’s slowly trailing down your cheek.

You're completely silent, lip quivering.

You don't want to be a burden. If you tell him, he'll get upset and then he'll try to help you, even though you feel like nobody can. You'll just end up being a burden.

You shake your head, squeezing his hand as you do.

“Baby please. Talk to me.” He pleads with you, cupping your cheek and looking at you with so much care and worry that it makes you want to sob all over again.

“I just feel like shit.” You mumble so quietly he almost missed it. “I-” you start, but you just sigh frustratedly, digging your nails into your palms. “I feel.. really bad, again. It almost feels worse this time and it just makes me want to hurt myself. To make it all stop.” You say through clenched teeth, upset and afraid and so, so angry with yourself for admitting how you feel. You do it so much easier now but only because you and Joel had worked so hard to get rid of these defensive walls you'd built around yourself, walls that forced you to conceal your feelings and bottle your emotions.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He frowns, sitting on the bed and turning you to face him a little more. You don't want to look at him. You don't want to see him getting upset and worrying about you. You can't bear it.

So you keep your eyes clamped shut and continue talking. “My thoughts were just getting so.. so loud. And I don't know how to make it stop, and I almost- I just thought it would help.” You're shaking, he can feel it. Little shivers across your entire body, making your breath tremble as you exhale and inhale shakily. “I'm so sorry, Joel. I'm sorry.” You start to sob and he feels like doing the same, because he hates seeing you like this. If he could take all the pain away, force it onto himself so you didn't have to bear it, he would.

He pulls you closer to him, into his lap as he cradles you and rocks you slightly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead and resting his head there.

“Baby, please stop apologisin’. You aren't doin’ anything wrong and.. I know it's hard. It's hard to stop yourself from relapsin’, but you've done so well. ‘m so damn proud of ya, because you've gone so long without hurtin’ yourself. And it's doin’ good for ya; you might not realise it but I do. You’re so much happier now without it, ya like a fuckin’ ball of sunshine.” He teases, making you let out a watery chuckle. He pauses for a moment to brush away your tears, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I love you. So so much. And I don't want to see you in pain like that ever again. I don't want my sunshine to go away, and I don't think you want her to either.”

You nod slowly, rubbing at your face as the final tears slip past your eyelids, looking up at Joel again.

He held you and you both talked for what must have been hours after that. You discussed what was really bothering you, how you could try make it better. Distractions helped, you decided. Joel proved to be a good distraction, as you ended the night listening to him talk about just about anything from the new diner that opened up in town to that one story from his childhood which made you snort with laughter every time (one which consisted of little Joel falling ‘head over heels in love’ with a girl when he was in elementary school, deciding to profess his love to her by writing a sappy poem for her and reading it to her in front of quite a large group of people.. only to be turned down. Naturally, he would've been, considering she was a fucking 16 year-old!)

He knew that that story would be the one to make you crack a smile, even if it was a small one, he just wanted to make his girl happy again.

You did a little more than smile, giggling so much you went red because that story never really gets old.

“There she is.” He murmured affectionately, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear and kissing the tip of your nose, then your cheek, then your lips.

It was a brief, yet loving, one, as he pulled back from the kiss and stroked your hair as your eyes fluttered shut.

Joel pulled you closer to him, your head now resting on his chest as your eyes fluttered closed from his soothing touch.

“G’night, babygirl.” He murmured, unsurprised when you didn't answer since you had already fallen asleep.

He stares up at the ceiling and he feels happy despite everything that happened tonight, because he feels good knowing that he can give you that solace and comfort that you just need so desperately sometimes, just like he gave you in the hours that passed. He'd do it a million times and more if it was for you.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you.. enjoyed? Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and requests are open. 💞

Note: My heart really goes out to you if you struggle with self harm. It's not easy to deal with and even harder to stop doing it once you've started, but you're not alone. Even if you feel like you have no one to talk to, there are countless places and websites you can look at which offer things like helplines and anonymous chats if you're struggling, and also give healthy solutions and alternatives etc. to self harm. You're so loved. Things might seem impossible but never give up. It will get better one day.

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wrongplacerighttime · 5 months

Text

right where you left me

hi!! this one was…..a lot. it’s heartbreaking and angsty and sad…however (!!!) has a happy ending and i had the BEST time writing it. i think i went through 8,000 emotions in the process.

tw: smut!!!, mentions of alcohol use, sad harry, sad fmc, post-break up, mentions death of parent(s), the very taboo subject of cheating (please if this is not something you're comfortable with don't read this. i write for me and others who like these things, however I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable, but i enjoyed writing this and I hope others do too!!), (as always lemme know if i missed any)

wc: ………..13k.......IM SORRY. I thought about splitting it up into two or three parts but couldn't find a good place to split it up. so instead you just get one loonnnngggg fic lmaooo

this is my first time attempting to write something from third person POV. please let me know what you think and if you read this entire self indulgent story then i love youuuu so much. 🩷

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 𖥸· ─────── · ·

BRYAR

The silence of the apartment rings through Bryar’s ears. She wipes the tears staining her cheeks and stands from the bed, padding through the hallway to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, squinting as she does, her gaze travels to meet her own eyes in the mirror. Her eyes are sensitive from laying in the dark, and the crying she's been doing for the past four days doesn't help her appearance either. Sighing, her breath feeling heavy in her lungs, she tosses around the idea of finally taking a shower while staring at her disheveled hair.

The memory of checking the time is already gone from her mind but she remembers that it’s late. She looks at herself in the mirror for a moment longer. Eyes trailing from the circles under them up to her messy hair on top of her head. Part of her mind is contemplating whether or not she should’ve left the only man she’s ever loved. The other part of her mind knows she needed to because he never changed, nothing ever changed like he promised it would. However, she knew she would never love anyone that intensely ever again. Her eyes meet her own once more, and she lets her mind wander to the moment it all came to its tumultuous end

—

Bryar is standing in the middle of Harry’s apartment, her bag packed and hanging from her shoulder. She was dressed in the same outfit she waited all night for him in, the one she had carefully planned out for this day, the day he promised that he would be entirely hers, no interruptions. It was her birthday, after all. They were supposed to go to dinner. She waited all day for him at his place. He never showed. Never texted. Never called. She knew it would happen. It happened a lot recently. Things used to be so different. It never used to be this way. She never had to beg him for his attention before.

She knew he’d be coming home any second. It was late… a few minutes after midnight, the usual time he would come home from the bar he went to with his friends. The reservation they had at a restaurant in town was long forgotten. She called to cancel it after he didn’t come home. She didn’t move from her spot in front of the door. Not even when she heard the keys jingling in the lock. He swung the door open, his phone to his ear and laughing loudly at whoever he was speaking to on the other end. He was looking towards the floor, but when he noticed her there, with the bag hanging from her shoulder and the animosity behind her eyes, he stopped talking. Stopped everything. He didn’t even say goodbye to his friend, just hung up and put his phone away into his pocket.

“Bry, what are you doing?” He asked, confused. She scoffs, shaking her head and looking away from him into the apartment she knew she would be seeing for the last time.

“You forgot. Again.” she crosses her arms over her chest, biting the inside of her lip to keep herself from crying. Her chest was moving up and down rapidly. He looks at her for a moment…taking in her appearance, the way she was dressed…then he realizes. His eyes grow wide and he shakes his head slightly.

“Baby…I am so sorry. We were supposed to go out tonight. It must have slipped my mind, I’ve been so—” She cuts him off.

“You’ve been so busy. Yeah, I know. That’s what you say every fucking time, Harry.” She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I can’t keep doing this. I’m sorry. I just need to leave.” She puts her hands out in front of her, not wanting him to come closer to her.

“Okay…I understand." He says, not necessarily wanting to let her go when she feels this way. However, he understands that she's upset and doesn't want to be around him. "Do you want to do something tomorrow instead, it’s Saturday and—” Again, she doesn’t let him finish.

“No, Harry. I’m leaving you.” She sneers and he visibly flinches at her words. He shakes his head again.

“W-what?” He stutters, his eyes growing wider as he takes a step towards her. She ducks around him to the door, and he grabs her arm, forcing her to spin around and face him. Her eyes are angry and filled with tears, hating how her body betrays her like this when she’s upset.

“I can’t keep doing this. It’s been this way for a while, H. We make plans and you forget. I don’t know what’s more important than me but—” It’s his turn to interrupt her now.

“Nothing is more important to me than you.” His tone was firm, and he meant it. To him, he was telling nothing but the truth. He looks down at her, searching her eyes. He grabs her chin between his thumb and index finger and she jerks away from his touch. A look of hurt crosses his features as she steps back, putting distance between them. He had never intended for this to happen. He doesn’t even know how he allowed something this important to slip his mind. She had never shied away from him like this, never dodged his touch like it would burn her if he got too close.

“It doesn’t seem like it.” she whispers. “It’s my birthday, and you forgot.” Her voice trembles with the words.

“Bryar. Baby, please. Don’t do this. I’m sorry, so unbelievably sorry.” He falls to his knees in front of her, capturing her hands between his own. “Don’t leave. I know this is unforgivable, but please don’t leave.” he begs, literally on his knees for her, his voice quieter and full of more pain than she’s ever heard. She resists the urge to pull her hands away from him, wanting nothing more than for his touch to be comforting like it used to be, but now it just feels dirty.

“Harry…please.” She whispers, begging him to let her go. He looks up at her, his eyes flit around her face. He brings her hands to his mouth and kisses her knuckles, shaking his head once, eyes brimming with tears.

“I’ll change. I can change.” He stammers, and she shakes her head, swallowing the knot forming in her throat.

“I want to believe you…but I can’t sit around and wait for you to change anymore.” She gives him a somber look, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes as well. “I really wanted this to work. I just don’t think it’s going to.” She turns her back to him, walking towards the door of his apartment. She doesn’t look back. If she looks back she knows she’ll run to him and apologize for even thinking about leaving him.

Once in the hallway, she leans against the door, sobbing quietly into her hands, knowing this was for the best…but realizing that doesn’t make it hurt any less. On the other side of the door, Harry leans his forehead against the wood, his shoulders shaking from the sobs wracking his body. He stood from the floor and ran towards her as she left, but the door slamming in his face kept him from running after her. It all ended so quickly. He didn’t expect any of it, didn’t expect his entire future to collapse with the slam of the door.

—

Bryar shakes her head as if the memory will crumble and the pieces will become lost in the corners of her mind. She shoves it behind the metaphorical door, the one she reserved for the memories of him. She sniffles once and walks to the shower, turning the knob to a temperature that will hopefully wash away the bad memory. Standing under the shower head, she lets the water run over her face, closing her eyes and leaning against the wall. The amount of energy it sucks from her is tenfold. Quickly washing her hair and body, she rinses the suds away and steps out, wrapping the towel tightly as the cold air comes rushing in and creates goosebumps on her skin. She wishes that the memories of him could be washed away that easily, down the drain with the tears she shed for him.

Standing at the sink again, she glances up at the mirror. Her appearance is…better. Still, her cheeks are hollow and the bags under her eyes are a deep shade of purple. She brushes her hair, her teeth, and throws a t-shirt over her head, one that smells like him, making her way back to her room. The bed still has a lingering heat from her body, the sheets soft on her clean skin. She pulls the comforter up to her nose and pulls her knees to her chest. Sighing, her eyes feel heavy, and she drifts to sleep, knowing her dreams will be filled with the memory of him, the future she always imagined with Harry nothing more than a failed plan.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better, though she had a feeling this pain would last a lifetime.

—

Four Years Later

It’s been nearly four years. Bryar has moved on…or so she likes to believe. She never thought trying to forget him would be this hard. She tells herself she doesn’t think about Harry all that much anymore...but that’s the biggest lie of the century. She still sees his face on every passerby on the street, she’s convinced she smells his cologne everywhere. She plays pretend, pushing the memories of him away, locking them up behind a wall in her mind. If she continues to tell herself that she’s moved on, that she’s happy…maybe one day it’ll be the truth. The truth is that he fucked her up forever. Every corner of her apartment still reminds her of him, even after she tucked all the memories in a box and shoved it in the back of her closet.

“Baby, have you seen my tie?” Sam, her boyfriend, comes striding into the room. She sucks in a breath, his voice pulling her from her mind. She half smiles, and he pulls her to his chest in a tight hug. “You look stunning.” He whispers into her hair and she smiles. Sam has been there for her for the past two years, giving her a hope she didn’t realize she needed. They met at work, and from there the rest is really history.

“Sorry, no. I haven’t seen it.” She wraps her arms around his waist, squeezing and breathing in his cologne. She turns back towards the mirror, pushing an earring into her ear and smoothing her dress with her hands. “I’m pretty much ready though, I can help you look.” She leans her back against his chest, staring at him through the mirror as he runs his hands down her arms. They have an invitation to attend the wedding of a couple of Bryar’s friends. It’s been awhile, and she hadn’t seen Celia since right after Christmas a couple of years ago when she brought Derek home to meet her friends and family. Life got busy, Bryar got a new job, Celia moved across the country, and things just never seemed to work out when they came to town. Luckily, Derek agreed on a wedding close to Celia’s hometown, and when Bryar got the invitation she was over the moon.

Bryar walked out of the bedroom and through the hallway and to the living room, searching every surface in between for Sam’s tie, her eyebrows knitting together when she can’t find it, either. She swore she had seen it on the coffee table. She kneels on the floor, peeking under the couch. Perhaps it fell onto the floor and got kicked under there. She spots the shade of maroon that matches her dress, reaching under, saving it from the dust bunnies living under there. The light catches something when she moves the tie and she squints, only able to make out the shape of a square. She reaches under again, feeling around for the object and when her fingers graze the cool surface, she slides it out. The back of a polaroid picture stares back at her, and she’s not really sure where it came from.

She flips it over, her breath catching in her throat. Looking back at her from the little square, is Harry. He’s laughing and sticking his tongue out, and she is in the picture too. Laughing with her eyes squeezed shut, head leaned over on Harry’s shoulder. They looked so happy. She brings her hand to her mouth in surprise and she just stares at the picture. The memory of the night it was taken comes flooding back to her, hitting her like a sucker punch that steals the breath from her lungs.

—

SIX YEARS AGO

The cheap bottle of white wine on the table had just a sliver left in it. Bryar’s glass was nearing empty and Harry’s was still half full from the first pour. He had abandoned it about an hour ago for something stronger, he said.

They were sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, a vinyl spinning quietly on the record player across the room. Harry stands, making his way towards the shelf to switch it out for something different. Bryar watches as he crosses the room, bringing his glass to her lips and claiming it as hers.

“Why are we even sitting on the floor?” She asks, slightly slurring her words while a laugh escapes into her glass. She looks around, the room spinning slightly, effects of the entire bottle of wine she drank hitting her almost all at once. Harry looks at her over his shoulder, smirking.

“I don’t know. I think we were going to do a puzzle or something and then we started talking and forgot.” He mutters, looking through the old records to play trying to choose one he thought she would be in the mood to listen to. Bryar had pulled out an old photo album, the one that somehow survived the fire that her parents did not. She told him memories from her childhood, ones that were clear and the ones that were a bit fuzzy around the edges. She was beginning to forget the way her mother’s voice sounded and the way her dad’s hand felt in hers, his scars she would run her fingers over while her little brain would ask how he got them. Harry finally chooses a record and smiles to himself, carefully putting it on the turntable and setting the needle to the eighth song on the track list. He saw the longing in her eyes when she spoke of them, wishing he could take her pain and wrap it in barbed wire so it couldn’t escape and hurt her any longer. Bryar hears the opening notes of the song from the guitar playing through the speakers. She smiles at him and narrows her eyes.

“Really?” She asks as he saunters back over to her.

“What? Don’t wanna listen to Dan Fogelberg?” He teases and she shakes her head.

“Not that. Just funny that you picked this song.” She states as he sits down next to her again on the floor. She listens as the lyrics of the song Longer play through the speakers. He tilts his head, his eyes sparkling in the dim lighting of her apartment. He waits for her to tell him more. “It was my parents' wedding song, that’s all.” she shrugs and he pulls her into his side. She sighs, leaning over on his shoulder and he kisses the top of her head.

“Maybe it could be our wedding song one day, too.” He mumbles against her hair and she smiles. “I wish I could’ve met them.” He whispers to her.

“Maybe.” she whispers back. “I wish you could have met them, too.” She says, her mind beginning to go down the road of “what-ifs”.

Harry reaches forward, opening the drawer of the coffee table and rummaging through her things that have collected in the drawer over time, little trinkets and pens and post-it notes. Bryar giggles while watching him, and he reaches further into the drawer and pulls out her old polaroid camera.

“Wanna take a picture?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows and she laughs.

“I’d love to but that thing is probably dead and the film probably isn’t any good.” She grumbles. “I couldn’t tell you the last time I used it.”

“Well let’s see…” He mutters, flipping the switch on the top. The light turns green and he glances up at her, smirking. He brings it up to his face, looking through the viewfinder. “Smile.” He says in a singsong tone. Bryar gives him a cheesy smile, and the flash goes off with a click of the button. The camera spits out a square film and Harry pulls it out and sets it on the table. She leans her head on his shoulder again, sighing. He holds the camera out in front of them, and starts singing the lyrics to the song playing in a silky voice, trying to imitate Dan Fogelberg and this makes her laugh. She falls into a fit of giggles from his singing and the amount of alcohol she’s consumed, and he smiles, sticking his tongue out and snaps another picture, the moment they’re in right now permanently etched into time. Once her laughing subsides she looks up at him through her lashes. He brings his face down and touches his forehead to hers.

“I love you.” She whispers.

“I love you more.” He whispers back, kissing her softly.

—

“Bryar, did you find my tie?” Sam yells down the hall, pulling her from her memory. She wipes the single tear that fell down her cheek quickly before standing and tucking the picture into the coffee table drawer. She makes her way back to the bedroom, tie in hand. Sam is standing in front of the full length mirror, buttoning his white shirt. She holds it out, wiggling it in his face, his icy blue eyes narrow at her and he smirks.

“You’re amazing. Where was it?” He asks, plucking it from her hand and situating it around his neck.

“Under the couch. Must have fallen and gotten kicked under there.” She states while making her way to her closet to retrieve her shoes. Carrying them by the straps to the bed, she sits, crossing her leg to slip on the first and fasten it. She repeats the action with the other at the same moment Sam finishes tying his tie. She stands, walking across the room and grabbing his jacket. She stands behind him, holding it out for him to slide his arms in the sleeves. He smiles softly at her through the mirror.

“Ready?” he asks, spinning around on his heel and pulling her into him. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to meet hers. He kisses her softly, lightly ghosting his lips over hers. She smiles against his mouth, her nose brushing against his. She nods, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room before they don’t make it out the door.

The drive to the wedding venue isn’t long, but it’s not short either. She sits in the passenger seat of Sam’s car, his hand resting comfortably on her thigh that’s exposed from the slit in her dress. The radio is playing quietly, the silence between them comfortable. She watches the scenery out the window, thinking of her parents and admiring the beginning of the leaves changing colors. Autumn was always her mothers favorite season. Celia picked the perfect time to get married, like Bryar knew she would. Celia was a bit of a perfectionist, in the best way. Bryar was sure she must have researched when the trees would be at their peak vibrancy for the most perfect fall wedding, and autumn has had always held significance to Bryar since losing her mom, feeling her presence with her the most during this time of year.

“Bry?” Sam says her name while clearing his throat, pulling her from her thoughts for the second time today. She turns her head towards him, watching as he keeps his eyes on the road. Her heart squeezes a little every time he calls her by the same nickname that Harry always did. She never had the heart to ask him to call her anything else. It is just a nickname, after all. However, it never sounds quite right coming from between Sam’s lips.

“Hm?” She hums, grabbing his hand and squeezing. He squeezes her thigh in response.

“I love you.” He says, tilting his head towards her and glancing at her for a quick second. He smiles, and she smiles back, dropping her gaze to their hands together. She hadn’t told him about her parent’s yet, the timing never felt right. She makes a mental note to talk to him about it soon.

“I love you.” She says quietly, returning her gaze to the window. Does she? If she loved him her mind wouldn't keep drifting to her past and comparing him to Harry. She would open up to him more, right? It's not that she doesn't trust him, he just seems to brush her off sometimes. She feels guilty.

“Something on your mind? You’re awfully quiet.” He teases her, she shakes her head.

“No. Just admiring the view.” She reassures him.

The rest of the drive is quiet. They pull down a long gravel road towards the extravagant wedding venue. Bryar’s mouth drops open and her eyes widen when she realizes how big the building actually is. She looked up pictures, of course. However, the pictures didn’t do this place justice. The windows are tall, glass, floor-to-ceiling and framed in black. The bright white walls stand out against the red and orange and yellow trees surrounding it. It’s evening, the sun setting in the distance creating a perfect golden hue over the property. Sam pulls the car into a parking spot and quickly steps out, striding to Bryar’s side and opening her door for her. He reaches his hand down for her to take for balance as her heels meet the uneven gravel. She grabs it, swinging her legs out of the car and standing, smoothing the wrinkles of her dress down. They walk into the venue, arms linked together. The ceremony doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, but they’re serving champagne. Bryar and Sam make their way to the bar, grabbing two glasses, she looks upward taking in the high vaulted ceilings along the way. After they secure two glasses in their hands, she spots a group of people she knows across the room and they make their way over to them.

They mingle with her friends, ones she hasn’t seen in quite some time. She introduces Sam to them, and the men fall into conversations of sports teams and work while the women are talking about the books they’re reading recently or the shows they’ve been watching. Some talk of work, what the next fiscal year will bring their companies and how successful they were throughout this year. Bryar smiles, sipping from her glass while watching Sam get along with the people she used all to spend all of her time with.

Out of no where, the air in the room shifts, making Bryar feel uneasy. She’s not quite sure why this feeling suddenly hit her, maybe the open doors are bringing in a chill. She looks around, eyes flitting across the room at the groups of people mingling, spotting Celia’s mother and they lock eyes. Bryar gives her a smile and a small wave, making plans to go and speak to her. Glancing around again, she quickly catches what appears to be a head of brown curls that she’s all too familiar with and her stomach drops. Before she can confirm if it really is who she thinks it is, they disappear around a corner and are out of her sight.

It couldn’t be him, right? These were her friends, not his. He didn’t really know Celia that well, right? Celia wouldn't have invited him knowing Bryar's history with him, would she?

She feels a hand on the small of her back, snapping her from her panic. She turns her head to see Sam standing beside her. Her eyes soften and she forces a smile onto her face, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Two lines form between his eyebrows as he pulls them together, concerned.

“Hey, are you okay? You look pale, like you saw a ghost.” He asks, leaning down to whisper into her ear. She pulls back, looking him in the eyes again and nodding once.

“Yeah…I’m fine.” She lies. She would know Harry anywhere. Even out of all the people she’s mistaken for him on the street, she figured out quickly it was never him. But she knew that was him. She had memorized the way his hair laid on his head and the way he moved through a room ten times over. It was etched into her memory. Her eyes flit across the room once more, feeling the anxiety and dread creeping into the pit of her stomach. Sam’s voice pulls her back down to earth for the second time in less than five minutes. She has got to get it together.

“I think it’s time for us to find our seats.” Sam mutters under his breath and Bryar nods again, tipping her glass up and downing the rest of her champagne. Her eyes scan the crowd, looking for Harry again, just to be sure...but there’s so many people and she’s not any taller than Sam, who can see over most of the crowd himself. She chews on the inside of her lip, the metallic taste of her own blood touching her tongue. She mentally curses herself, tearing the skin from between her teeth and trying to remind herself to not do it again.

Sam finds a seat right in the middle of the row of chairs a little further back, they could see the altar from here and not have to worry about being in anyone’s way. Bryar’s heart beats quickly in her chest, feeling her body temperature rise as she searches the room.

It wasn’t this hot before, was it?

Her heart stops, her breathing stops, her vision goes blurry. It’s as if her chest has caved in on her. Because there, across the room with someone that’s the complete opposite of her, is Harry.

She can’t tear her gaze away. It's a cruel form of self sabotage, wanting to look away but forcing herself to watch the way he leans into her and whispers in her ear. The woman's head turns to look at him and she’s smiling, and it gives away the one thing she didn’t want to accept, because Bryar used to look at him exactly the same way. They aren’t just friends, he brought her with him as his date. Bryar tears her eyes from the unknown girl and her breath catches in her throat when she looks at Harry. He’s changed. His face is broader, more defined with a hint of stubble growing. He’s grinning down at his date, before planting a small kiss to her temple and Bryar feels her heart breaking. The room is too hot. She feels dizzy. She stands abruptly, looking down at Sam, who’s looking up at her with confusion for what feels like the hundredth time since they left the apartment.

She has to get out of here, preferably before her lunch ends up on the floor in front of her.

“I’m sorry. I have to…I need to…” She can’t seem to get the words out. “Bathroom.” Is all she successfully says. She doesn’t wait for him to reply. She steps around other people in the row, and when she’s free from the confines of the chairs, she practically breaks out into a sprint. She quickly covers her mouth, feeling the nausea setting in before she’s thrown into another memory of Harry.

—

SIX YEARS AGO

The streetlights cast shadows around the darkened room, the rain pattering on the window. Harry’s hand trails down Bryar’s exposed back, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She sighs with content, her eyes drifting closed. She would stay like this forever if she could…she’d give up everything to be here with him always. He was her forever. She knew that. He knew that, too. He never wanted to be anywhere else.

“Hey…” he whispers, trying to get her attention. Her eyes flutter open, the exhaustion showing on her face, but the good kind. She smiles tiredly at him. He brings his hand up, brushing the strands of auburn hair out of her face and running the backs of his fingers down her cheek. Her heart feels like it’s bursting with love for him and can’t hold any more than it already does. However, every day, he does something to prove that she somehow can love him more than the day before. He smiles, tracing over every feature of her face with his gaze. There was nothing that could make her stop loving him, she knows that.

“I really love you, you know?” She says, and his grin widens. Trailing his hand to the back of her neck, he pulls her closer to him, their bodies meshing together like they were made only for each other. He fists her hair at the nape of her neck, pulling slightly to tilt her head upwards to him. He captures her lips with his, kissing her in a way that makes her belly do somersaults, the butterflies feeling more like a stampede. She could never get used to the way he kisses her. Always like it’ll be the last. He pulls away and brings his forehead to hers, nudging his nose against hers.

“I love you.” He says, looking into her eyes the best he can being so close. “You’re it for me, Bry. You’ll always be.” She blushes, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. He turns his head slightly, kissing her temple with such gentleness it makes her heart flutter. “My sweet girl.” He mutters against her skin. His hand runs down her hair flowing behind her on the bed, twisting a strand around his finger before she feels herself slipping into sleep.

“Stay with me forever?” She whispers, so quietly she’s not even sure he heard, not even sure she spoke it...maybe she only thought it in her tired mind. Her consciousness drifting slowly, sleep threatening to pull her under.

And for a moment, he pauses. He wanted nothing more than to spend forever with her. He would cross every ocean if it meant he had her always. He feels her muscles relax, her breathing beginning to steady. He’s sure she’s asleep. He’s careful not to wake her. He closes his eyes, preparing to fall asleep as well as he squeezes her against him, trying somehow to get her closer. She feels him, all of him, his warmth consumes her. Somewhere in the distance she hears him, just barely.

“Forever.” he whispers back to her.

—

Bryar shoves her way into the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind her. She grasps the marble countertop, the cold surface stinging her hands and bringing her back to reality. Her breathing is sharp, stinging her lungs with every breath. She quickly makes her way into a stall, bracing against the wall for support, convinced she was going to empty her stomach contents in a matter of seconds. She still feels dizzy. It wasn’t Bryar beside him, and it never would be her again. She leans against the wall of the bathroom, the cool tile soothing her rising body temperature. She feels clammy, sweat forming at her hairline.

This was the worst possible outcome. She wasn’t expecting him to be here at all, not even a warning from Celia. She can’t go back out there. She can’t watch him dote on the girl he brought. Can’t watch him kiss her temple like he used to do with her, the one gesture he reserved for her and only her, the one that used to make her heart soar, the one smallest gesture just happened to be the one that Bryar has felt homesick for since the day she left. She only has a few minutes before the ceremony starts. She can’t miss Celia walking down the aisle or she’ll never forgive herself.

She straightens, taking in a long breath before drawing it back out. She goes back out to the mirror, staring at herself. Her chest is blotchy from the anxiety she’s feeling. The nervousness takes over, but she pushes through it. Her hands are shaky as she reaches for the door handle.

Bryar makes her way back to her seat by Sam. He cocks an eyebrow at her and she smiles nervously. As she sits he turns his body towards her.

“Seriously Bry, what is going on?” He asks, concern lacing his question. She waves her hand at him, dismissing him.

“Just the champagne hitting me I think.” She lies and Sam doesn’t believe her for a second. Something is going on, something he doesn’t know about. His eyes search the room but he doesn’t see anyone familiar. He watches her, she keeps her gaze towards the floor, picking nervously at her nails and his eyes narrow. She glances up and across the room. He discreetly follows her eyes, looking the same direction and seeing a man sitting with his girlfriend. He doesn’t recognize them, but it’s obvious to him that Bryar does. He makes a mental note to ask her about it later.

Bryar is having what can only be described as an existential crisis. But there’s no time for that. The large doors in front of the aisle open, and the wedding party starts to make their way to the front of the room. The chatter around the room dies down, withering to nothing as the music begins to play. Bryar turns her head to watch as they walk, thankful that she doesn’t have to look forward and watch Harry anymore.

—

HARRY

Harry and Xena make their way to find seats to watch the ceremony. He decided at the last minute to ask her to attend this wedding with him. They had only been on a few dates. They met at the bar he frequents with his friends. The same friends that encouraged him to ask her out. Encouraged him to finally move on. Bryar wasn’t coming back.

He and Xena have got on quite well so far. He enjoyed her company, more than he liked to admit. She wasn’t Bryar though, and he knows it’s unfair to compare them. She didn’t deserve that. So he tries his hardest to push Bryar to the back of his mind.

“I’m so nervous to meet your friends.” Xena leans in, whispering in his ear. He pulls back and smiles at her. She looks up at him through her lashes and it kills him, the way she looks at him like that. His grin grows wider and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

“You’ll do great.” He whispers encouraging words in her ear, pressing his lips to her temple as his eyes close. He does it out of habit, a small gesture to ease her nerves. For a brief moment, his mind flashes to her, his Bryar. His eyes open and he’s pulled right back into reality when he sees Xena’s blonde hair. A reality he’s forced to accept. He sighs, running his free hand down his own face.

After a few moments, he hears the doors open signaling that the bridal party would be making their way in any second. He turns his head to watch behind him as the wedding party makes their way to the altar. His eyes search around the room, eager to place familiar faces to introduce Xena to after the ceremony. He catches the movement of all too familiar auburn hair. He barely catches a look at the side of her face before he can’t see anything but the back of her head. His breath catches in his throat and he coughs under his breath.

He can’t believe she’s here. In the same room as him for the first time in four long years. Of course, in the back of his mind he knew she would be. Celia is one of her best friends. Harry’s eyes widen slightly when he realizes she’s not alone. Her head turns a little and he can see more of her face again. She perches her fingers under her chin, gazing at the man beside her and smiling. His heart drops to his stomach. He remembers that look all too well. She used to look at him that way. He tries to look away but he can’t, his memories catching up to him.

—

EIGHT YEARS AGO

Harry was nervous for a date, and this was the first time he ever recalled feeling this way. He had just met this girl, Bryar, at a coffee shop a couple of days ago and she was absolutely stunning and she captivated him with her words from the moment she spoke to him. He would’ve been a fool to not ask her out after the conversation they had. He was surprised she had even agreed. They exchanged numbers, and agreed to meet at a sushi restaurant downtown.

He admired the way she spoke. The way she got a little too excited about something in their short conversation, they way her cheeks flush in embarrassment when she realized she was rambling to a stranger. He asked her out right then. No way he was going to pass up the opportunity.

The walk to the restaurant is short, but it feels eternal because he’s so nervous. When the sign comes into view, he sees her standing there. Hugging her body for warmth in the cold winter air. He picks up his pace, speed walking towards her so she doesn't have to wait any longer for him. When he approaches, their eyes meet and she smiles widely.

“Hi!” She says almost like she didn’t believe he was standing in front of her.

“You didn’t have to wait outside for me.” He states, a small laugh escaping between his words. She shrugs.

“It’s okay. It’s just a little chilly.” She reassures and he smiles at her, walking towards the door side by side. He holds it open for her, and he hears her hum when the warm air inside envelopes them. They were seated and once the first date awkwardness subsided, they stayed there most of the night. Talking about anything they could think of.

He talked about his job, she talked about her dreams and ambitions, she was in her final year of college and how excited she was to be finished with her Master’s degree. What childhood pets they had. Where he was originally from (hence the accent) and why he moved to the States. They shared childhood stories of friends and siblings and parents. Everything laid out on the table, figuratively speaking. The more she spoke the more he admired her. She had her hand under her chin and watched him speak, a smile creeping up on her face at the way he articulated his words and thoughts.

The waiter approached the table and informed them the restaurant would be closing soon, and both of them looked at each other with wide eyes, Bryar bursting out into a fit of laughter. It was the most beautiful sound he had heard in such a long time.

“I don’t really want this to end.” She admitted, catching him by surprise with her honesty. He was thinking the same, too nervous to say it.

“It doesn’t have to.” He says, his eyes meeting hers. She tucked her lips into their mouth, suppressing a smile. He signed the check and they stood, walking towards the door.

He wasn’t expecting it, the way she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers between his. He hesitates for a moment before closing his hand around hers and he feels his heart already swelling for this girl. Bryar. He knew, in that moment, that she was going to fuck him up forever. Having just met, his heart already belonged to her, and that was dangerous...and for some reason, he didn’t care.

They were inseparable after that.

—

Harry feels a hand slide into his, snapping him out of his memory. Xena has her head tilted to the side, worried.

“Where did you go just now?” She whispers, and he shakes his head.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He reassures her. But was he fine? Bryar was right there. He’d been dreaming for another chance to speak to her. His breathing picks up, and he turns away. He can’t keep looking in that direction because all he was doing was staring at her. He had to get out of here, fast. He fists the material of his dress pants, turning to face the front of the room instead. He couldn’t leave yet even though he wanted to. He couldn't run off and steal the moment away from Celia. The attention would be on him and the last thing he wanted was for Bryar to see him, if she hadn’t already.

So he faces the front, breathing rapidly through his nose. Hoping to not draw attention to himself. Xena places her hand on his knee, and he closes his eyes.

He was so fucked.

—

BRYAR

She looks over at Sam with adoration, trying to keep her breathing at an even pace. She knew if she glanced to the left she would see Harry, and that made her anxious. The flower girl was walking down the aisle shyly, and everyone was cooing and smiling at her. Bryar kept her eyes trained on the doors as they shut, preparing for Celia to walk through them for her grand entrance.

The doors open and everybody stands. There Celia stands with her dad by her side. She looks ethereal. Bryar feels tears brimming her eyes and she swipes at them before they can fall down her cheeks.

But now she has to turn and face him again and she’s not sure what will happen when she does. Her mind races, ultimately unable to avoid turning around. She looks up at where Derek stands, and sees that he’s swiping at his own eyes, seeing the love of his life walking towards him filling him with unspeakable emotion.

Bryar’s eyes flit over to Harry. His back is facing her, but his plus one is still turned to watch Celia. Bryar’s eyes meet hers for a brief moment and she holds her breath. Surely Harry has told her about Bryar, the girl who broke his world. His heart. The girl smiles at Bryar and Bryar forces herself to smile back, a passive smile. Of course, this girl never did anything to her. She didn’t even know who she was, never seeing her before this moment.

The officiant speaking causes their gaze to break, Bryar averting her eyes forward. She tried to focus on the words, but her mind is still racing. Sam rests his hand on her thigh, squeezing gently. She peeks over at him, and he leans in to whisper in her ear.

“I can’t wait for this to be us one day.” He says, nudging her once with his nose and kissing right beside her ear. She smiles, but her heart constricts behind her ribs. They had talked about their future together before, briefly. Bryar preferred to live in the moment after Harry. With Harry she was always looking forward instead of in moment, and she realizes that’s where most of her disappointments lie. In the future. The future is not predictable.

The ceremony lasts all of 30 minutes, and then the guests are dismissed to the ballroom for cocktail hour while the newlyweds and their wedding party take pictures together. Sam guides Bryar through the doors, a hand on her back so she knows he’s right behind her. The ballroom is decorated from floor to ceiling, flowers hanging out of vases and spilling into the table in beautiful arrangements. Bryar finds hers and Sam’s names at a table with the same friends they spoke to at the beginning of the evening. Sam leaves her to go to the bar and get drinks for the table.

Bryar engages in conversation as best as she can. They are talking about something that’s out of her realm and only adds when she feels it’s appropriate. Sam is walking towards them, carrying six drinks somehow and she finds herself giggling at how he’s able to carry three cups in one hand. He raises his eyebrows at her, blowing out a breath. He hands them out, holding them until the respective person takes it and then sits Bryar’s in front of her last.

“Thank you.” She says and he leans down, pecking her lips.

—

HARRY

Harry grabs Xena's hand, his fingers lacing with hers as they make their way into the ballroom, the lights from the ceiling twinkling and reflecting on the windows. They find their table, seated with a few people Harry knows and he pulls Xena’s chair out for her to sit.

“Drink?” He asks, running a hand through his hair and she nods.

“Just something light for now.” She requests and he nods, his hand lingering on her chair as he walks away. He waits in line behind a slightly taller man with dark black hair. The man turns to look over his shoulder and Harry recognizes him as the one that Bryar is here with. His eyes narrow, a bit of jealousy fueling his mind, but he shakes it away. Someone comes up behind Harry, navigating around him and getting the attention of the man in front of him.

“Sam! Hey man. I didn’t know you knew Celia and Derek.” The man takes Sam’s hand in his, shaking it, obviously someone he knew as an acquaintance. Sam smiles a little.

“Oh, I don’t really. I’m here with my girlfriend. They’re more her friends than mine.” Sam informs the stranger and he nods.

“Oh right, Bryar. Tell her I said hello.” The man responds and Sam nods. Harry looks down at the floor, kicking the toe of his shoe against the hardwood. He bites his cheek hearing her name. Sam and the unnamed man part ways after a bit of conversation, promising to catch up later in the evening after the ceremony. The line moves forward and Harry listens as Sam orders drinks for what seems to be his entire table.

“…and then I need vodka cranberry.” He finishes the order on Bryar’s drink. Harry would know, he’d ordered that for her at least a hundred times, the only other drink she enjoyed besides the cheap white wine from the grocery store. He looks to the side, his eyes narrowing, the jealousy bubbling up in his chest.

“Forgot to make it a double.” Harry mutters under his breath, and to his surprise Sam turns around. She never orders a single shot. Ever.

“What?” Sam asks, cocking his eyebrow and Harry looks over at him, shrugging.

“Didn’t say anything.” He shakes his head once, denying that he said anything. Sam looks at him for another moment, like he’s trying to place where he’s seen him before, before turning back around to the bartender. A second later, Sam is juggling all six drinks in his hand and nodding once at Harry before finding a path to his table. Harry orders for himself and then for Xena, dropping a tip in the jar and winding around chairs and tables back to her.

He slides into his chair, sipping on his beer and his mind slips into a memory.

—

SEVEN YEARS AGO

Bryar leans over the table, pool stick in hand and aiming at the cue ball directing it to the eight ball on the table. If she sinks it she wins. Harry stands behind her, a hand protectively resting on her back. Last thing he needs is someone looking at his girl with their drunken eyes trailing up her body. Not that he would blame them for looking, but his jealousy doesn’t let them get away with it if he catches them. Her hips shift slightly against his hand and he smirks.

Watching her intently, he admires the way her hair falls over her shoulder and tucked behind her ear, the tip of her tongue sticking out a little in concentration. She takes the shot, and sinks the eight ball, winning the game with ease. She straightens, jumping a little and turning to face him. The excitement in her eyes makes them twinkle and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to hers to kiss him.

“I won.” She grins, giggling a little and he pecks her lips again.

“You won, baby.” He mutters against her lips, pulling her a little closer to him.

“Get a room, you two.” Celia groans beside them and Bryar snickers, turning her head to face Celia and sticking her tongue out. Her temple touches against Harry’s chin and he dips a little lower to plant a small kiss there.

“Want a drink?” Harry asks, lips still pressed lightly to her skin and she nods.

“Vodka cranberry, remember to make it a do—” She starts to say, but Harry cuts her off.

“A double. I know. How you always want it.” He smirks, backing away from her before he turns away and makes his way towards the bar. He orders, looking over his shoulder at her while the bartender prepares their drinks. She’s already taking on her next victim in a game of pool, probably going to wipe the floor with them like the last unfortunate soul. There’s only one thought in his mind as he watches her, bent over the table to break.

He would marry her one day.

—

“Right, Harry?” his friend, Zack, asks from across the table. Harry blinks once, Zack raises an eyebrow waiting for an answer.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention. Something on my mind.” He mutters, looking anywhere but at anyone at the table.

“Um…okay.” Zack says, turning back to the conversation.

The reception starts and the speeches and toasts to the bride and groom are all a blur. Harry doesn’t even get up to eat. He hasn’t really spoken to Xena and she hasn’t prodded him for answers either. The only thoughts racing through his mind were of Bryar. He just wanted to speak to her, he’d give up everything right now to be able to talk to her.

—

BRYAR & HARRY

Bryar and Sam are standing at a cocktail table outside of the reception area. Sam has been talking to them all night and Bryar tunes most of the conversation out, standing with one arm crossed over her middle and holding a plastic cup to her lips, chewing on the lip of it lightly. She’s leaning her head against Sam, eyes growing tired.

She turns her head for a brief moment, glancing around the room. Her eyes find Harry across the room, and it’s just become a habit as the night goes on. Her heart develops an ache that is so strong, she can’t believe how much seeing him has affected her. She lets her eyes linger on him a moment longer…what a mistake that was.

His eyes shift towards her, and their eyes meet.

She sucks in a breath, and she sees him swallow. It’s as if the entire world stops, everything and everyone in the room fades into the background, and it’s as if the only two in the room are Bryar and Harry. She wants nothing more than to run to him, throw her arms around him and sob into his shoulder, apologizing for leaving, for hurting him the way she did…but her feet are cemented to the floor. She knows she can’t. She loves Sam, and Sam loves her. As fucked up as it sounds, she feels like it doesn’t even matter because the only person she wants to love is Harry.

Her heart longs for him. She craves the way he used to say her name, the way he used to kiss her temple to calm her and remind her that he was right at her side, always. He stays where he is, his arm wrapped loosely around Xena’s waist and it pulls at her heart, constricting it in her ribcage. Harry can’t tear his eyes away and neither can Bryar.

He just wants to storm over to her and kiss her in front of the entire room. He doesn’t care about the consequences. He wants to grab her and tell her he doesn’t blame her for any of it. He wants to tell her that she’s still it for him, and he doesn’t expect her to come running back and give him another chance but he’ll always be waiting for her anyway. Seeing her tonight has only reminded him how much he's longed for her. But for whatever reason, he can’t bring himself to take that first step..

—

Four Years Ago

“...I just don’t think it’s going to.” Bryar says, her voice trembling on the words, she turns to walk away, and Harry brings himself to his feet, preparing to stop her from walking out the door. He doesn’t make it in time though, the breeze from the door slamming blowing back in his face. He feels the pang in his chest, the closing of the door making him accept quickly that this was real and she was gone. He leans his head against the hard wood of the door, allowing the tears to flow freely down his cheeks. They don’t stop, not even when the sobs take over his body, shaking and unable to breathe.

He’s not sure how long he’s been there. He doesn’t remember what time he even came home. At some point he turned his back to the door and slid down to the floor, staring at nothing. He finally blinks, turning his head and catching the time on the clock in the kitchen. Five A.M.

She had to come back, right? They were good together, she didn’t mean it. She was just upset. He would let her cool off for a couple days, and then he would try to talk to her. He pushes his body off the floor, muscles aching and screaming from leaning against the door all night.

He trudged down the hallway to his bed. It's unnervingly cold, the source of its usual warmth not present. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept without her. How could he sleep if she wasn’t there running her fingers down the expanse of his back, bringing her body closer to him for him to hold.

He tries to sleep, tossing and turning relentlessly for over an hour. When he’s had enough, he rises from the bed and decides to make a cup of coffee. The pang in his chest never goes away. His eyes feel sandy and he can’t fully open them. He stirs a little bit of milk into the mug, his motions slow and lethargic.

He turns memories over in his mind, combing through them to find the moment when everything started going south. Obviously, missing Bryars birthday was the straw that broke the camel’s back, the final nail in the coffin. He didn’t realize that she’d been unhappy, it seems, for a while. She never gave him any hint, they hadn’t really had a fight in what feels like so long. But isn’t that when he should have noticed? Was she tired of fighting him? Fighting for him?

He needs to see her. Needs to apologize. He’ll never stop apologizing, if that’s what it takes. He throws on his jacket and grabs his keys, leaving his apartment without a second thought. He doesn’t think of anything but Bryar on the way over to hers. She’ll answer the door. She has to, right? She was just upset, maybe she’s having second thoughts this morning.

He pulls up, throwing the car in park and practically jumping out before it stops moving. He sprints to her door, bringing his fist up to knock, but he pauses. He doesn’t hear her moving around inside. It’s silent. Was her car even in the parking lot? He steps back, looking around the wall to the lot and spots her car in its usual spot. Was she still sleeping? He finally knocks, waiting a few seconds for the sound of her footsteps coming to the door, except they don’t. He has a key, he could just go in. He fumbles his keyring around, mindlessly searching for the familiar blue key she had made for him not long after they started seeing each other, but it's not there. He doesn’t remember removing it, but maybe he did. He knocks again.

“Bry, baby please open the door.” He says, not yelling but loud enough for her to hear. There’s no answer back. No sound of her coming to him. Not the familiar turn of the deadbolt.

Nothing.

They can’t be over.

He was supposed to marry her. She was supposed to be forever.

He didn’t think forever was supposed to end this way.

—

Bryar is sure that someone has noticed them staring at each other by now, whether it be his date or Sam, yet she can’t seem to pull her gaze away. He nods his head to the side once, and it feels almost as if her heart was pulling towards him, trying to break free from the confines of her chest. His eyes flit across the room, and her gaze follows. She notices a hallway in his direct line of sight. When she looks back at him, he’s looking at her. Waiting.

Now she has the biggest dilemma. Does she stay at Sam’s side or does she finally after four long years get to hear Harry’s voice again? She’s frozen in place. Harry watches her, his eyes pleading with her to go and he’ll meet her there. He sees her apprehension. He knows what this would mean for her if she chanced being caught with him in the hallway.

She turns to Sam, looking up at him as he’s deep in conversation and it’s hard to make out the topic when her heart is beating so loudly it fills her ears. She watches him for a moment, thinking of every moment he was there for her, pulling her out of the darkness and giving her light whenever he couldn’t. She loves him.

But not in the way she loves Harry. Harry’s the only person who sees her for her. She doesn’t have to pretend around him. She doesn’t have to be something that she’s not. Never had to conform to please him, and she felt alive with Harry. She looks back across the room at him, he hasn't moved, his expression is one of longing. Pleading.

“Please.” She sees him mouth the word so clearly, begging her to give him any of her time. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath for the first time this evening, the air filling her lungs.

That was all it took.

Everything that happens next is a blur. She excuses herself to the restroom, slinking further away from the group. Her heart is racing, the closer that she gets to the hallway her palms start to sweat from the fists she has them clenched in. Once she’s behind the cover of the walls, she runs. Her dress is flowing behind her as she sprints, but it feels like she’s moving in slow motion, like she can’t get to him quickly enough. She rounds the corner and there he is, standing at the end and her vision betrays her from the tears brimming her lashes.

She doesn’t stop running, not until she reaches him. She flings her arms around his neck, burying her face between his collar and jaw. His arms wrap tightly around her waist and she breathes him in, the scent that’s lingered in her dreams every night since the last, and his arms feel like she’s finally home. He’s there, every part of him taking over her senses and it’s like she can finally breathe after drowning for so long. He lifts her feet off the floor, pushing her into a darkened room and closing the door behind them. She pulls away, looking at him…really looking at him for what feels like the first time, and she’s unable to stop the tears from running down her cheeks. He grabs her face, his eyes searching hers. He’s so close and it almost feels like she’s dreaming. She feels weightless, the room around her spinning.

“Bry…” Harry whispers, and it sounds so beautiful coming from him. She doesn’t waste any time. She grips the lapels of his jacket, forcefully bringing his mouth to hers and she melts. His hands find their way to her hips, gripping and pulling her closer to him. His body melds into hers, pushing her against the wall. His tongue brushes against her bottom lip, begging to let him in and she does without pause. They need each other. He pulls away, their breaths ragged and shaking, from the kiss or from just being in the other’s presence. His forehead rests on hers, and he’s just taking her in. All of her.

“I’m not going to be able to leave without you after this.” He admits without remorse, kissing the tip of her nose delicately.

“I don’t want you to.” She says in a hushed tone. She pauses for a moment, looking up at him and studying his features. “But H, I think we need to have a serious conversation. It’s been so long, we never talked about anything and I take full responsibility for that. I left you, and I never intended to. Never. I’ve regretted it every day since.” Her voice trembles, admitting how vulnerable she’s been. Her gaze falls to the floor, shaking her head. "I didn't think you wanted me anymore."

“Baby, it’s not your fault. I promise. I will always want you. I said you were it for me, and I meant it.” He grabs her face again, forcing her to look up at him. “I am so sorry, I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if you’ll let me.” He cards his fingers through her hair, the tips of his fingers ghosting down her spine making her shiver. “I love you, Bry, I always have. I never stopped.” His eyes trace over every feature of her face, soaking in everything he’s been missing.

“I don’t deserve for you to forgive me so easily.” She whispers, and he shakes his head.

“No. None of that.” He kisses her again, unable to control the desire to feel her mouth on his. She sighs into the kiss, and he feels his heart pulling itself back together. “If anyone should be asking for forgiveness, it’s me. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I’ll give you anything…anything you ask for. Please just don’t make me leave without you.” He says against her lips. She grabs his wrists, bringing his hands to her mouth and kisses his knuckles.

“Take me home.” she whispers and he grins, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the room and down the hall, away from all of the people. Somehow Harry finds a backdoor and they sneak away into the night, laughing and running through the wet grass with their hands intertwined while Bryar’s shoes are in his other hand. Her head is spinning from adrenaline and nervousness. They find Harry’s car and she jumps into the passenger seat, Harry in the driver’s seat. He leans over the console and pulls her face to his once more, kissing her with everything he has. They drive away from the venue, her stomach in knots. Then she feels Harry’s hand snake over to her thigh, drawing small circles on her skin with his finger.

The drive to his apartment feels shorter than the drive to the wedding earlier in the day. They waste no time, practically sprinting into the building and up the stairs. He fumbles his keys and once the door is open, he pulls her inside. She doesn’t get a chance to take it in before he’s pushing her against the wall and kissing her again and again and again. The kiss is sloppy and wet, his tongue dancing with hers and teeth clashing together. He lifts her by her thighs, her legs instinctively wrapping around his torso. He forces himself away from the kiss, both of them breathing heavily and fast.

“Need you Bry.” He mumbles, dropping his lips to her collarbone and kissing lightly. “Always fucking need you.” Her eyes flutter closed and she hums. He knew how to make her melt with just his words, never forgetting what brings her to her knees.

“My girl. My sweet girl.” His lips travel to her shoulder, light touches leaving goosebumps on her skin, her body reacting like it’s never forgotten him. His tongue darts out, licking a stripe up to her ear and his breathing becomes heavy against her skin.

“Taste as sweet as I remember.” His voice drops an octave and Bryar audibly moans, forgetting that his words have always had such an effect on her. He pulls back, giving her a mischievous grin. His eyes have darkened and she down at him still holding her against the wall, her appetite for him becoming insatiable. She unhooks her legs, signaling for him to let her back down. Once her feet touch the floor she’s pushing his jacket off, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. Her movements are frantic and shaky, fingers slipping over the buttons struggling to open them.

“Fuck it.” She says, fisting his shirt and ripping it open, buttons scattering around the floor. Her mouth waters at the sight of him. She pushes him further into his apartment, he smirks down at her, walking backwards until his legs meet the edge of the couch and he sits. She climbs on top of him, knees straddling either side of his waist and her dress rides up and around her hips. His hands find her hips, grabbing and forcing her all the way down in his lap. She groans when she feels his hardened length pressed against her center. He moves her hips for her, creating a friction so sweet she can barely hold herself up.

“Been waiting so long for this.” He murmurs, running his hands from her thighs up the expanse of her body. He pulls at the string on the back of her dress, making it unravel and it falls off her shoulders exposing her breasts to him. He dips his head forward and flicks his tongue against her nipple, causing Bryar to throw her head back, a quiet whimper escaping her lips while grinding her hips against him still. She lifts her hips, dropping her hands to the button on his pants. He lifts his hips slightly, allowing her space to pull his pants down just enough. She palms him through the thin material still covering him and he drops his head back with a loud groan.

“Need you so bad Har.” She whines, and that sets him off. He wraps an arm around her, picking her up and standing in one swift motion, carrying her to his bedroom. He lays her down gently, climbing on the bed to hover over her, his knee spreading her legs apart.

“Where do you need me, sweet girl?” He teases her by running a hand lightly up her thigh, trailing it back down. She sighs, grabbing his hand and putting him right where she wants him.

“Right fucking here.” she says through gritted teeth. His smirk grows wider, knowing she didn’t want to be teased. She’d gone without his touch for so long she felt starved. He pushes the lace covering her to the side, his finger swirling around her hole and the arousal that was already pooled there. Her eyes flutter closed and he watches her, studying her face as he slides his finger up, tracing small circles on her clit. She gasps, mouth dropping open, he inserts his finger to the knuckle and has her writhing beneath him. He thrusts his finger, hooking and finding just the right spot with ease. Her hips thrust upwards and he pushes in another, stretching her out and making her squirm under him.

“Being such a good girl for me, Bry. Always my good girl.” His voice is deep and he’s practically drooling watching her come undone from something as simple as this.

“Need more.” she begs between breaths.

“More?” His voice is low and gravelly as he kneels down, but he never takes his eyes off her. His fingers work her open slowly, her hips moving at a rhythm that matches his thrusts. She whines and cries and begs for more. “He never touched you like this, did he? So needy for something so simple.” he teases her, but she doesn’t want to think about Sam. Not right now. Even though he’s right, Sam never made her feel this way and she knows it. Harry can tell, the way her body is reacting to him makes it obvious she’s needed this for quite some time. He takes his fingers away from her and her breath leaves her lungs. She feels empty and the burning in her belly only heightens. The emptiness doesn’t last long, he brings his tongue to her dripping hole and licking all the way to her clit, flicking when he gets there. Her fingers tangle in his hair and he works his tongue on her clit while he brings his fingers back into play, pushing them into her. She feels the coil in her belly tighten, knowing that she’s about to let go.

“Shit, H. If you don’t stop, I’m gonna—” she stutters out, her sentence breaking with a strained moan, and he works his fingers faster, lapping at her swollen bud. He shifts and stands over her, watching her unravel from just his fingers. He bends over, bringing his mouth to her ear and his warm breath tickling her skin.

“Cum for me. Wanna feel you on my fingers, sweet girl.” he coos in her ear, his soft words are all it takes for the coil to snap and she’s clenching around his fingers, the ecstasy flowing through her.

“So pretty.” he murmurs as he watches her face contort into an expression of pleasure from above her. He brings his fingers up to her mouth, instructing her to open, and she does without question, tasting herself on him. He strips the rest of his clothes off, her mouth drooling at the sight of his cock finally springing free. A sight she’s been so desperate to see. He positions himself over her, tugging himself a few times before lining up with her.

He drags the tip of his cock down her folds once, collecting her arousal before he finally pushes into her, and its bliss. His chin drops to meet his chest, watching the way she takes him before throwing his head back again as he slowly works his entire length into her.

“Fuck, Bryar. Missed this. Missed you so much.” He grunts as he bottoms out and she writhes under him, her mouth hanging open from the overwhelming pleasure taking over her body. “S’like you were fucking made for me.” He stills for a moment, lowering himself so he can kiss her. She whimpers and whines into his mouth, grabbing his face with her hands not allowing him to pull away from her. She grinds her hips up, pressing their bodies together to try and create some movement.

“Go, Har. Need you to move.” she begs against his mouth and he pecks her lips again, shaking his head.

“Wanna savor it. Wanna go slow, feel all of you, baby. Missed you so much. Need to remember this.” She throws her arm around the back of his neck, holding him close to her as he drops his mouth to her neck, biting and sucking and lapping at her skin. He pulls his cock all the way out to the tip before he slowly pushes back in, setting a slow, torturous pace. So slow that it’s almost cruel. Bryar stifles a needy moan trying not to make him rush, but she needs him. Needs the way he used to be with her. She wants it to feel like they never missed a beat.

“Harry, please.” she gasps out as his hips meet hers again. His lips brush against her ear.

“Thought you were my good girl?” He nipped at her ear, and she was growing frantic.

“A-am.” she stutters, tears pooling in her eyes. “Being so good, just missed you. Need you.” she says breathlessly. She feels herself finally slipping. Slipping into that headspace she had only ever been in with him, only one she ever felt comfortable enough with when she was with him. The tip of his nose runs against her jawline, too gentle with her. He knows what he’s doing, riling her up and making her needy. He knows what she wants…he wants it too, finding it hard to resist falling into the familiarity with her, like not a single second has passed since the last time.

“Har, this isn’t fair. You’re being mean.” she cries between shaky breaths, feeling the tears starting to run. He pulls back, looking at her face once and seeing her expression, hearing her say he was being unfair flips a switch in him. He takes her by surprise and slams his hips into hers, causing her vision to go white and her mouth falls open again. He’s going hard, harder than he ever has with her and her thighs tighten around his hips and he feels her clenching around him.

“This what you want? Huh?” He says through a snarl, his teeth clenched together behind his lips. “This fucking mean enough for you?” He curses under his breath, bringing his hands to her thighs and pushing her knees to her chest, creating a new angle that somehow gets him deeper. She moans and writhes and her thighs shake in his hands, but she hasn’t said another word.

“That’s what I thought.” he mutters, looking down and watching himself disappear inside her, his head tipped to the ceiling and his eyes rolling back. She wraps her hands around his biceps, digging her nails into his skin. He shifts his weight, bringing her thighs flush with his torso and her ankles by his head, he kisses her skin there, and his movements never falter.

“Look so pretty taking my cock like this, Bry.” He grunts, and she’s falling apart. She can’t hold in any longer and she comes undone, the pleasure pulsing through her veins. She goes limp under him and her legs falling from his shoulders, her body exhausted from being worked this way. Her arms fall over her eyes and quiet moans fall from her lips. Harry grabs her wrists, pulling her arms above her head and keeping them captive there. He holds them together in one hand as he bends to kiss her, snaking his other hand down her body that shakes beneath him. He just needs one more. Needs her to cum one more time. His fingers dance over her hip, tracing lightly to her sensitive clit. He pushes his thumb against it and her body jolts and she cries out.

“H-Harry, no. Can’t. Can’t do it. Hurts." She can barely get the words out as he draws small circles around the bud. She looks up at him with wide eyes, shaking her head and pleading with him.

“You can. Know you can.” he encourages her, feeling his resolve coming quickly. If he could just get one more from her, he’d let her be finished. He was just so desperate to feel her clenching around him one more time, he longed for the feeling for so long. He finally had her where he wants her and he’s not letting her be finished that easily. “You take me so well, just one more. Need to feel you one more time.” He kisses her temple as her head falls to the side…and her third comes not long after that, his fingers slowly petting over her clit makes it so easy and she cums hard. The moment he feels her tightening around him he lets go, his hips stuttering and her name falls from his lips over and over, his head dropping to her shoulder with heavy breaths.

They lay there like that for a moment, his weight on top of her as she lazily wraps her arms around the back of his neck. Their heartbeats are thundering in both of their chests, and he hums as her fingernails run over his shoulder. They’re both silent for what feels like too long, but finally Harry stands and he walks off to the bathroom, bringing back essentials to help her clean up. He goes to his closet, pulling out an old shirt for her to wear, one he’s seen her in countless times before. They settle in the bed, and he pulls her to his chest, breathing her in, and he feels complete. She feels at home. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.

Bryar’s phone rings incessantly until it dies, and she can’t find it in her heart to care. The adrenaline that was coursing through her veins for the past few hours was finally fading, growing sleepy while wrapped up in Harry’s arms, and that’s all she ever really wanted. It was fate, seeing him tonight, and maybe she always knew in the back of her mind that they would find their way back to each other. She lifts her tired eyes to his face, from his tousled hair to the stubble growing over his chin. Smiling, she brings her hand up to his cheek. He opens one eye, peeking at her. She smiles shyly at him, and he smirks back.

“Hi.” She whispers and the smile on her face grows.

“Hi.” He whispers back, trailing his hand down her arm. He moves closer, kissing her forehead, then the tip of her nose, then her lips. She closes her eyes, nuzzling closer to him and breathes out deep through her nose.

“I love you.” She mumbles.

“I love you, Bry.” He says into her hair, the familiar scent of strawberry filling his senses.

“Forever?” She asks for reassurance, even though she already knew the answer, her eyes falling closed, sleep consuming her mind.

“Forever.” She hears him say quietly before she falls asleep with his hand drawing shapes along her spine, the scene identical to ones they used to share countless times, many years ago. She feels comfort. She feels safe. And if you wanted to make the long story of their love short…for her, it was always going to be him, and for him, it would always be her.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 𖥸· ─────── · ·

taglist: @indierockgirrl (tagging you because you said you wanted to be tagged in everything and i just love you so much for that <3)

#harry styles #harry #styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x fmc #fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #smut #right where you left me #wrongplacerighttime #exes to lovers #normal!harry #normal!fmc #harry fic #harry styles fic #harry styles au

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dollfaced-erin · 7 months

Note

This is not a hear out... YOU WILL LISTEN

ok so modern au where jingyuan is a CEO (sugar daddy-) and i'll leave the reat to your imagination 🤭

IM LISTENING, LOUD AND CLEAR TO YOU BBY

A/n :

this made me so flustered hahahahha but y'know, imma make some one shot out of this, comfort angst style since i havent done that in a LOOOOONG time (or ever, in that matter) I'm currently learning how to make a pretty masterlist, banners and those cute line things and i need help AND A GUIDE-- pls excuse my tardiness... holy shit this might be my longest post ever...

Taglist : -

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading , @matsulovesyou, @sincerely-aaronette , @prettyliliy , @chibiduck , @hermosacolibri , @la-diablas-thingz , @farelady-fate , @everi-eve , @shadowfoxey , @helloyuki , @immahuman , @ryn-halo26

𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊 ! : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴀᴜ , ᴊɪɴɢ ʏᴜᴀɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ , ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏʀʀᴇʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ'ꜱ ᴄʀᴀᴅʟᴇ

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 ! :

ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ , ᵃⁿˣⁱᵉᵗʸ , ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉˡᶠ ʰᵃʳᵐ , ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ

Rain...

Rain and rain...

How many hours has it been...?

How many days has it been since she's been staring at this piece of paper.

She doesn't know.

She doesn't want to think about it anymore.

What was there to think about anymore...?

The loud and heavy shower sound of rain that patters against the concrete ground outside. A single drop alone makes no noise, but when a heavy storm like this clouds above the entire city, blocking out all means of sunlight, it as as if a whole army was marching down there, coming to get her in her room.

The only other sound penetrating the dark and cold room other than the deafening sounds of rain and thunder, was the ringing of her smartphone.

Since becoming a university student, this was all she's ever known now. Study...study...study...

She didn't even have enough money to sustain herself. Assignments and due dates were quickly closing in on her, leaving her no room to even get a parttime job even with the minimal hours of sleep she managed to salvage.

How bad was it...? It was to the point where she couldn't even manage to eat at times, before she was introduced to the concept of 'sugar daddy' by a friend. This friend had indulged in the sweetness of it, and told her the perks of being a sugar baby to these rich men.

Security of finances. She would never have to worry about paying ever again. Although, it came with a catch. Of course, things like this would always entail something a little more morbid. And...a very... disturbing one at that.

You'd have to please the man you've considered to be your sugar daddy. It could be through any means. If you were lucky, you'd get the kind men, who only want company of another woman in exchange for his immense wealth. But the not so lucky ones (or ones who enjoy this part of the 'business' more), pay with their bodies, to pleasure these men to dig out their riches.

At first, like every normal human being with a sense of decency and dignity, she refused. Until that friend pointed out the drastic living conditions she was currently swamped in.

Sacrificing what self-decency remained in her...she took up the offer of her friend and downloaded an app that this friend had recommended.

That's where she was met with a man, who goes by the name of Jing Yuan, a handsome man in his mid thirties. His riches knows no bounds, as he was one of seven CEOs in the Xianzhou Alliance, and owner of one of the branches, the Luofu that specializes in trade nationally and internationally, as well as opened several business outlets and shopping malls patronaged by many.

"I wouldn't force anything upon you, my dear. All I ask from you is a bit of your time everyday..."

And...was currently the caller of (Y/n)'s phone, ringing endlessly, for over an hour now.

(Y/n) couldn't bring herself to answer. Not while she was in such a state of mind and health. She huddled her body on her seat, her knees to her chest as she rested buried her head in them, arms wrapping around her quivering form tightly.

It was dark... and cold.

Even with the curtains pulled back, it was still so dark outside. Dark clouds covering the skies of the city, the rain that pelted the ground constantly till no one dared step out into the storm, minus the few vehicles that passed from time to time.

This week...had been too much for her.

The assignments due, after getting rejected time and time again. The lecturers who kept going on and on and on, giving them more and more work despite the untouched work from other classes. The people who gossip about her behind her back...

It was something she had to carry.

She was tired. Tired of everything...

She couldn't even bring herself to take proper care of herself, hence she had taken time of classes to be by herself, but nothing was working. She didn't dare step out of her room for the thought and words of others getting to her head, and messing up her mind was too much for her to bare.

She hadn't even looked in the mirror for a while. If she did, she would've realized the dark bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, the way her (e/c) eyes had now gone dull and lifeless, the way her skin was now a sickly pale from malnourishment, and the way her hair lay flat against her skull like wet paper.

Hence...why she wasn't picking up Jing Yuan's calls.

She felt the heavy realization on another day, how she had been using an innocent man for his money, when all he wanted was someone to love. There would've been more than enough women who would love to take her place...

So she decided. She's been refusing his money for a while now, evading all his calls and meetups, locking herself in her room for a while now...

She was lonely. Ever so lonely.

She sniffled and sobbed as she looked at the paper before her again, picking up a pen in her hand. Everything was rushing in her head, to the point where she couldn't even sort out her own thoughts anymore. The letters on the paper were starting to get wobbly and blurry, being illegible, impossible for her to solve. Her head pounded and she felt like throwing up time and time again as she read over and over again, trying to grasp at what she was looking at before her eyes.

Everything was too much...

Her heart begged her to stop...her hands were aching and her eyes were stinging. But she had to keep going. What was there in life anymore when she was the one to choose this path...?

"That's enough."

Suddenly a muscular and slightly rough hand grabbed her own that held the pen, snapping her attention from the paper, and up to the individual whose arm held hers tightly.

Warm golden eyes that were slightly obscured by thick silver locks burned into her strained (e/c) own, glaring at her with fury, worry...and warmth...?

"Ji...Jing Yuan...?" (Y/n) softly, her tired and teary eyes looking up at the man.

"You haven't been answering my calls, princess... so i got worried and personally come to see you." he said, taking the pen away from (Y/n)'s weakened grasp as she was now taken off guard.

He looked angry for a moment, but seeing the state she was in...his anger bubbled down almost immediately.

Her room was a mess. The papers on her desk were a mess. She was a mess.

"H-how did you get in...?" she stammered, still too out of it to realize that Jing Yuan had removed the pen from her hands, walked over to her side to tidy up the papers, aligning them as he tapped the bottom against the table, before setting it down in a neat stack.

"You jest, my dear. This apartment is still under my name when I gave it to you. I still have the key. Though i dare not abuse its power because I respect your privacy..." the gentleman said, smiling calmly at her, now that he had brought himself to understand the situation his woman was in.

"And you...need rest, my dear..." he said gently.

Without much trouble or struggle, Jing Yuan lifted (Y/n) into his embrace, holding her close to his chest as he walked over to her bed, sitting on the plush mattress. He said nothing, as he held her dirty self against his crisp suit, an attire she had rarely seen him without.

As he held her against his chest, she felt the comforting thumping of his heart in his chest lulling her to rest. She found herself breathing alongside him, her heart beating accompanying his own as he guided her. The expensive and signature scent of his cologne invaded her senses, bringing her a sense of calmness and security.

"Jing Yuan...please stop..." she said weakly, her hands against his chest as she tried to push him away, but to no avail. The arms holding her tight were strong, and she had not eaten for a while to even provide her the strength.

"I'm dirty..." she said, tears bubbling at the corners of her eyes

The way his hand went through her hair, his slender but thick fingers running through her greasy locks. He hushed her softly, pressing his smooth lips to her forehead, not minding the state she was in at all, rather he embraced it more than he would've.

"You would never be dirty to me, darling..." Jing Yuan said softly, as he caressed her cheek softly, a kind and comforting smile on his lips. "You need some extra love today, now let me take care of you."

"No...you've done so much for me already. I...I cant accept anything anymore ! I'm using you for my own personal gain !" she exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks as she gathered the courage to look straight into those honey glazed eyes.

"Is that why you've been refusing to see me all this while ? I apologize. I should've realized earlier..." Jing Yuan whispered, his hand brushing away the strands of (h/c) hair that stuck to her forehead.

"Calm down now, princess, and let me take care of you." Jing Yuan said with a gentle smile, lifting her up in his arms effortlessly, before standing up to his full height.

"Lets go take a bath, shall we ?"

"Why are you doing all this...?" (Y/n) asked as Jing Yuan sat behind her in the tub she was immersed in, the bubbles and foam frothing up the surface of the murky water that smelled like lavender and vanilla.

"Hm~? Why indeed..." he trailed off, a smirk in his voice. "Because i can, that's why."

Jing Yuan was behind her, having removed his blazer (by throwing it on the bed somewhere, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing his muscular forearms as his hands gently massaged her head, fingers digging into her scalp.

He didn't seem to mind the fact that he was kneeling on the ground, in the bathroom, while he bathed his sugar baby who was on the brink of insanity and meltdowns.

"It's alright, you just sit still like a pretty dolly and let me take care of you..." Jing Yuan said.

(Y/n) took in a deep breath.

Her heart was pounding. She bit her bottom lip as she hesitated to speak what was on her mind. But deep down she knew she had to say it. It wasn't right.

This wasn't right...

"Jing Yuan..."

"Hm...?"

"I want to stop this. I don't want to be your sugar baby anymore."

Silence...

"What makes you say that, my Moon...?" Jing Yuan asked, moving to the side a little, tucking back stray locks of clumped wet hair behind (Y/n)'s ear to see her downcast (e/c) eyes that were filled with remorse and regret.

"I...It's feels...WRONG, Jing Yuan..." (Y/n) said, emphasizing on the word wrong with raw emotion of confusion, doubt, and shame.

"It...isn't right of me to be taking advantage of a man as generous as you. You give me money, spend lots of it too. You covered my student loans, you bought me this house, you spoil me every week..." (Y/n) rambled on, as she brought her knees to her chest, looking into the murky water still covered with bubbles that hid most of her body.

"In return...I don't give you anything. You don't ask for sex, you don't force me to do anything, you don't even treat me as you should, as I deserve. I don't deserve this."

"Look at me ! I'm a mess !" (Y/n) exclaimed with a tired and surrendering laugh entailing her miserable words. "I'm failing in classes, a social outcast, trapping myself in my room, and I cant even answer a damn question on the assignment paper !"

(Y/n) was hysterical now, tears running down her face again as Jing Yuan looked at her with shock and pain. He didn't know how to comprehend all this, but he let her have her moment, let out all the feelings she's been keeping in that tired little heart of hers, as he watched the madness and exhaustion swirl in (Y/n)'s eyes.

But as she kept insulting herself, laughing all the while, it sent stabs of sharp knives into his heart.

"I've been using everyone around me. I'm nothing more than a gold digger, a materialistic woman, trash to society who cant even participate in class, a simple whore who sold herself off to some guy on the internet, and he looks at her with respect and care !" (Y/n) said while laughing.

"I'm..." she whispered, hands wiping away at her eyes. "I'm a failure, Jing Yuan..."

"What is there to love when I don't even--"

Lips then smashed against her own, silencing her from her words, a hand gripping her chin tightly, but not enough to injure her.

"I love you."

The words the male said were more of an animalistic growl, as if he were terribly hurt and angry. Those honey golden eyes stared straight into her own, as he looked furious.

"Why didn't I mind you using my money ? Why did I let you do as you please ? Because I know you were doing it for the sake of surviving, not for pleasure or want. Because I know you needed it and you were brave enough to take action for it !" Jing Yuan said, pain evident in his tone as he stared straight into her eyes, his rough hand still holding her face in place.

"From the first time we met, you never asked for more than what I gave you. You never really accepted what I gave you, unless I forced you to take it. You were ever so grateful that I paid off your loans, gave you this place, and you're rejecting it all of a sudden. Why ?!"

Jing Yuan's anger melted into sadness, tears shining in his eyes as he slowly let go of (Y/n)'s face. "I fell in love with you, the you who never asked for more than what she was given. The you who never gave up trying. This...this is all just a small phase, (Y/n). Everything will be okay. Everyone goes through burnouts. Everyone has their depressive moments. It is perfectly normal, my dear! You are not, and will never be a burden to me !"

"Are you ashamed that you have a sugar daddy ?" Jing Yuan asked hastily. "Is everyone talking about you behind your back ? Then let's make it different. I know I love you. And I know you love me too, from the way you consider burdening yourself to me when I was the one who wholeheartedly gave you what you wanted even when you didn't want it,"

"So then...wouldn't you want to be my girlfriend then ? Be my real lover, and you can put this all aside. You wont need a sugar daddy when your boyfriend is wealthier than half the country's nett worth, you don't need to be embarrassed and thinking about other people when we're official, you don't need to stress over things that we can solve together."

"Jing Yuan..." (Y/n) said, her cheeks dusting red as her tears dried up, looking at the man before her who professed his love so vividly and wholeheartedly, even going as far as to hold her soaked hands from the tub.

"Do you love me ?" Jing Yuan said, looking at her straight in the eye.

"Yes..." (Y/n) nodded with a small blush on her cheeks.

Jing Yuan smiled brightly, pulling her arm as her body followed, her lips softly meeting Jing Yuan's own again. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, as water splashed and slushed around as he pulled her close, wetting his shirt.

"Then it's official. We're dating now. For real." Jing Yuan said with a happy cat-like smile on his lips as soon as he pulled away from the sweet kiss.

He then licked his lips. "You're so sweet, (Y/n)...you know how long I've been holding myself back from kissing you more than once each time we meet ? How hard it is to hold myself back whenever I see you...?" Jing Yuan asked, getting closer to (Y/n) who seemed to cower in the bath, realizing again that her body was completely bare before the man's eyes.

"Your pretty lips...your gorgeous eyes...your pretty hands..." he whispered, taking her hand in his, and brought it close to his lips as he kissed her inner wrist with tender love.

(Y/n) also decided to play along with his game, though her cheeks dusted red, her heart pounding in her chest. "Wh...what's stopping you...?"

Jing Yuan almost perked up at that, and he looked at her with a light she's never seen before. The look of love and complete adoration.

"Are you sure about that, princess ? What you're saying there is a...risky stunt you are pulling there..." Jing Yuan said, hiding his shock quite professionally. But no one could deny the blush on his cheeks and the redness on the tip of his ears.

(Y/n) moved to the edge of the tub, her wet hands cupping his face before pushing her soft lips onto his own, meeting him in a sweet kiss.

Jing Yuan moaned slightly, feeling himself get excited with every following second. He pulled (Y/n) closer, almost pulling her out of the tub as his lips hungrily took more and more. Water splashed everywhere, on the tiles, and on Jing Yuan, but neither seemed to care at the moment.

Jing Yuan placed a hand on (Y/n)'s chin, coaxing (Y/n)'s jaw open with little to no effort with a soft gesture. No time to lose, Jing Yuan shoved his tongue into (Y/n)'s mouth, their soft muscles meeting in a heated kiss.

They pulled back from their heated exchange, both faces red and panting heavily. But Jing Yuan couldn't hold himself back anymore, as he tilted (Y/n)'s head to the side, latching his lips onto her soft neck, licking and sucking to his heart's desire.

"Ji-Jing Yuan...!" "Hush....moonlight. Let me have you..." he whispered back huskily, silencing her moans with other kiss to her lips.

"A-at least...not here...let me wash off and dry off first..." (Y/n) said, embarrassed. She looked, away, hands retracted to cross over her chest in an attempt to cover her breasts that gleamed beneath the light of the bathroom.

Jing Yuan seemed to get an idea. A sultry smirk pulled at his lips as he looked at her with a teasing gaze. Then without hesitation, he hooked his arms beneath her armpits and hoisted her out of the tub like she weighed nothing.

Water splashed everywhere and (Y/n) squealed in shock and fright as she was being hoisted without any such warning at all. The male then held her close to his chest as he carried her wet and bare body out of the bathroom.

"Ji-Jing Yuan !" "Worried about my clothes, princess ? Don't worry, they'll be off soon enough. You should worry more about yourself," The CEO said teasingly, kissing her forehead as he walked into the connecting bedroom.

"I don't plan on letting you feel like you're worthless. I'm going to love you, to every inch of your body, till you never forget how much you mean to me." he said with a light chuckle.

"If I have to love you all night for you to see my love, so be it."

#dragon's cradle #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan x you #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #hsr #star rail

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Text

Imagine

18+ Minors dni

Bucky x f reader

A/N: self indulging here with how we ended up down this rabbit hole. A lil cocky Bucky.

Warnings: Dirty talking, a little smut, illusions to smut, swearing

The TikTok that started it all: https://www.tiktok.com/@hungrymathi/video/6948835965326707973?_t=8Tqbk2XuzbB&_r=1

Word count: 1.2k

You looked around you, sighing contently seeing no one else in the shared living room. You plopped down onto the large couch, snuggling into the cushions, pulling your phone out.

Tumblr.

Wattpad.

AO3.

The holy trinity; your latest guilty pleasure and favourite place to be. It all started with a tiktok.

Avengers walking in on you naked

You snickered at the accuracy of how each person would react; Tony, Steve, Sam, Peter but then the next avenger made your stomach clench. The one and only James Buchanan Barnes. The other avengers would run away or sneak a little glance. Bucky on the other hand, flicks his eyes over your body, licking his lips before walking in and shutting the door behind him. Sure, it was someone else pretending to be Bucky but that did it for you, you had entered a very interesting rabbit hole. You let curiosity get the best of you, searching his name and finding hundreds of TikToks. Some were some rather spicy edits of him working out or pictures of him shirtless. Those were nice, but what really sent you into a spiral were the stories.

It felt wrong but so right. He was your co-worker (disgustingly hot co-worker) for fucks sake but…

The first video you came across made you blush like a little school girl, momentarily confused about wtf y/n stood for. It was an elaborate story about you and Bucky pining for each other, classic idiots in love, there were almost 50 videos for the one story. It was sweet. Wholesome.

And then there were the ones where you were apparently Tony’s daughter (not too different from reality, Tony was very protective over you, more like a brother) and you were caught hooking up with Bucky. It started off with him teasing you, then you sat on his lap and then…. Butterfly emoji. You can imagine the rest?

You huffed because it was never enough, the videos always hinting to sexy times but with 0 details and fuck you wanted to details! You scrolled through the comments, seeing a number of people recommending Wattpad and AO3 stories that had all the details.

You figured just a peek wouldn’t cause any harm, you’d see what it’s about and it’d scratch the itch. You were so fucking wrong because with each story you read, you only wanted more. You allowed your mind to explore all the fantasies you always had, your heart racing and stomach erupting into butterflies with each spicy detail.

It didn’t help that all the fics were all so accurate. They all nailed Bucky’s personality and you were able to imagine everything perfectly. You did your best to hide your filthy little secret from everyone but it was becoming more and more difficult.

Which led you here; to this very moment. You kept the phone extra close to your face so no one would be able to sneak a peek at your screen, immersing yourself in the smuttiest of fics. Your heart was racing as the plot line was reaching its climax with Bucky ramming his cock into you against a wall.

“Whatcha reading there y/n?”

You shrieked, throwing your phone across the room, looking back to see Bucky with a smirk, his head cocked to the side right behind you.

How long had he been standing there?!

“N-nothing! I- cookies! It’s a cookie recipe!” You grabbed your phone and headed straight for your room without looking back, feeling his eyes watch your flustered form run away.

“Cookies my ass” Bucky smirked to himself, his cock stirring in his jeans.

You slammed the door shut, throwing yourself onto your bed to scream into your pillow. Ugh, why were you reading that in the middle of the living room like a perv. You had no idea how you were going to face him again, deciding to take a very cold shower because your entire body felt like it was on fire.

You let the cold water shock you, your mind racing hoping to Bucky didn’t actually see what you were reading but who were you kidding. He had super everything, hearing, sight, stealth, he was probably able to smell how aroused you were too. You shook your head, contemplating on sending Tony a resignation letter, maybe moving to Switzerland, live out your days as a cow on a nice pastoral farm. You switched off the water, grabbing a towel to wrap around you. You stepped out of the bathroom, your soul leaving your body; towel almost falling in the process.

Bucky was lying on your bed, casually scrolling through your phone, a shit eating grin on his face; how the hell did he know your pass code?!

You gripped onto your towel, bolting towards him, straddling him, trying to grab your phone, struggling as he grinned holding it out of your reach.

“Bucky!! Ugh, give it back! That’s private, you can’t just scroll through someone phone like that!” The towel nearly slipped off as you momentarily let go of it, squirming on his hips, your face flushing as you clutched it again.

“I thought we were friends doll, friends don’t hide secrets”

He continued to hold the phone out of your grasp, his eyes trailing the water droplets that were running down your neck, past your collarbone and into the valley of your breasts. He let out an involuntary groan each time your hips clumsily rocked forward, your breasts bouncing in his face, inching closer to his mouth.

“There are no secrets, you’re just being a creep right now, give me my phone back!” You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest, sitting back right on his crotch, your eyes growing wide as you felt his clothed cock pressing into your ass.

“Maybe you can tell me what you’ve been up to on your phone then, been noticing you’ve been glued to it recently”

Bucky grabbed your hips to sit right above his achingly hard length, moving you to grind on him. You gasped, unable to process anything that was happening right now, as he licked his lips, watching your mouth gape, your brain glitching. You could feel your core clench around nothing, arousal pouring out of you. Bucky gripped your ass, flipping you around, trapping you under him, his metal hand holding both of your hands pinned above your head.

“Tell me what you were reading”

“I…”

Bucky smirked, watching the way your eyes flicked between his eyes and lips, moving closer to your face so his lips would brush against yours as he spoke.

“You like imagining all the dirty thing’s Id do to you?”

You nodded, whimpering, your legs spreading apart further allowing him to rut his clothed throbbing length onto your desperate core.

“You like imaging me pounding you against a wall, wrapping my metal hand around your throat while I fuck your brains out?”

You moaned, squirming under him, trying to rub yourself on him, the growing ache between your legs was becoming unbearable. Bucky reached between your bodies, ripping the towel off you, leaving you bare underneath him. He sat up, tugging his shirt off before laying back on you again, his hand making its way down, teasing your folds while he kissed your neck.

“You don’t have to imagine babydoll, I can just show you”

Please let me know if you wanted to be added or removed from the taglist!

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72

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ellethespaceunicorn · 8 months

Text

Daddy Knows Best, Part IV

Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part IV

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy?

Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll deal with the police, and attempt to move on after the tragedy.

Warnings: pet names (Daddy, Babydoll, babygirl), age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), loss of a parent (mother), police interrogation, Dom/sub vibes, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

You wake in your bedroom, the early afternoon sun shining through the curtains. You roll over on your side and expect to see Daddy but he’s not in the room. Deciding to take a shower and start the day, you rise and undress.

As you wash yourself, you are suddenly hit with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness and loss. For a few moments, you were free. And then you remembered.

Mommy’s dead.

You saw her lifeless body floating in the swimming pool. That vision will probably never leave your brain. The last memory of your mother is of seeing her face down. The crystal-clear water of the pool marred with the sight of her.

Even though you had a rough relationship with her, you still mourn the loss of your mother. With your dad out of the picture, you only had one parent in your life. And now she has been taken away from you.

The water in the shower had gone a bit cold so you rinse yourself off and grab your towel to dry yourself. You dress in a black crop top with a sleeveless black plaid A-line dress on top of it. Pulling on some black thigh-high stockings and a pair of black platform Mary Janes, you embody the look of the mournful daughter.

You look over yourself in the mirror and try smiling at yourself. Instead, a few fat tears roll down your cheeks and you let them fall before giving up on trying to fake happiness. Wiping your face, you settle for going to find Daddy.

Once you leave your bedroom, you walk downstairs and are surprised to see that Daddy isn’t alone. Both men stand when you reach the bottom of the stairs, but the woman stays seated with a small smile on her face. Daddy holds out an arm for you to come join them.

“Come on over, don't be shy. This is Detective Marshall. He came to talk about what happened to your mother,” He nods at my words, “And this is Rachel, she’s a psychologist who works with Detective Marshall.”

I watch as Babydoll walks over and stands next to me, she greets our guests and then sits leaving space between us on the couch. That’s my good girl, don’t give them the chance to question our relationship. I sit down and gesture for Marshall to continue.

“I think I’d like to continue with you in private, if that’s alright Mr. Walker. Perhaps Rachel may speak with your stepdaughter?” Marshall suggests and I agree to his terms.

“Why don’t you take Rachel up to your room so you two can have a little chat?” I insist, patting Babydoll’s knee softly.

Once she nods, she and Rachel make their way upstairs and I hear the door to her bedroom shut. I look back to Marshall and he is scribbling in his little green notebook. His eyes are harder when our gazes meet.

“Just a few more questions and I will be out of your hair, Mr. Walker.”

“Please, call me August. Whatever I can do to help.” I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and my hands clasped together.

“I appreciate that, August. Uh, so you say that your stepdaughter was the first to see your girlfriend’s body. Where were you at this time?”

“I was bringing in my luggage from my car. I made it to the kitchen and noticed the open patio door. When I walked toward it, I heard her scream and caught her as she passed out. I saw her mother in the pool and realized that she wasn’t moving. After putting my stepdaughter in her bedroom, I called the police.” I kept my face neutral, but my eyes welled up a bit and I blinked away tears.

“So, you and your stepdaughter weren’t home when your girlfriend was killed. You two had been on a trip?”

“Yes. I had been on a trip for work, but my stepdaughter didn’t want to be here alone with her mother, so I brought her with me. Their relationship has been a bit strained since the divorce about a year ago. She misses her father and I, no matter how hard I try, am barely a substitute for him.” That’s it, play the role of a loving stepfather.

"You mentioned you work for the CIA, Special Activities. Is it safe for you to take your stepdaughter along on business trips in your line of work?”

“She was never in any danger. No one knew our location or that she was with me. The safe house we stayed in was discreet and out of the way. The only time she was left alone was this morning, and it was just for a couple of hours. I’m sure you understand I can’t divulge the details of my assignment. But you are more than welcome to check in with my superior, Erika Sloane.” I fish her card out of my wallet and hand it to Marshall.

“Thank you, August. As soon as Rachel is ready, we’ll be out of your way.”

No sooner do those words leave his mouth, than Rachel is coming down the stairs with Babydoll in tow. I notice the smiles on their faces and wonder what they got up to while they spoke. As they come back into the living room, Rachel stands next to Marshall and Babydoll stands near me.

“I think that’s everything. We’ll be in touch, August. Thank you for your time.” Marshall reaches out to shake my hand and he smiles at Babydoll.

For a split second, my face betrays me as I slightly scowl at him smiling at her. But in the same breath, I steady myself and look at Rachel before shaking her hand.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.” Rachel tilts her head at Babydoll and touches her shoulder.

I walk the detective and his partner out and once the door is closed, I turn and make my way back to the couch. My perfect little one sits with her leg under her, her big doe eyes settling on me.

“So, sweet girl, what did you and Rachel talk about?”

You took Rachel into your room and closed the door behind her. She looked around and smiled at the various photos and knickknacks you had scattered about the room. She sat on the edge of your bed and patted the space next to her. You sat down and she began to ask questions right away.

“So, you and your stepdad seem close. What was your relationship like with your mother?”

“My mom and I were never all that close. I was a lot closer with my Nanny, while she was here. Um, I guess I’m more of a Daddy’s girl. Mom was never satisfied with me, I don’t think. She always wanted me to be better. At sports, at school, at everything. She wasn’t my biggest fan. And then after the divorce, I felt even more distant from her. Dad was gone and I was left with her. Then August started dating Mom and it was weird in the beginning, but he ended up being a nice guy. And he listened to me, and he would stand up for me when Mom was on my case. I didn’t hate my mom. I just wished she liked me.” You looked away from Rachel to wipe a single tear that threatened to fall from your eye.

“Seems like August was your knight in shining armor.”

“Um, yeah. He cares about me. He cared about my mom too. He doesn’t treat me like a kid like Mom did. I don’t mean to make my mom seem all that bad. She was doing the best she could, I know that. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. I hope whoever did this to her rots in a jail cell forever. Sorry, I’m just angry and upset. My emotions have been a bit off the rails.”

“It’s perfectly normal to feel sad or livid or even bitter about death. With your relationship with your mother, I am not surprised your emotions are unsure of what to do. Sometimes, we might even feel like a weight is lifted off our shoulders when a certain person in our life is gone. Nothing of what you’re feeling is wrong.” Rachel tilted her head at you and smiled.

“Thanks.” You returned the smile and went back to fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Do you feel safe here with August? I only ask as a precaution. Having you in a place where you feel safe is most important.” She put a hand over yours and you froze. What did she mean by that?

“I feel more than safe with him. He’s never given me a reason not to trust him.” You suddenly felt defensive over August and you tried to keep yourself calm.

“Good. I’m glad you have him to help you through this trying time. But if you ever need to talk, or even if you just need someone to listen, you can call me.” She pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to you.

“I don’t know if I’ll have anything to talk about but thank you.”

“Maybe something that you can’t talk to August about. Something that maybe only another woman would understand?”

“Oh. Ok. Um, I will let you know if anything comes up.” You stood and put the card on your desk and Rachel stood as well.

“Good. Any time, day or night. I’ll be available at that number. Use it whenever you need me. I think that’s all I need. Why don’t we go and rejoin the others?” Rachel went to your bedroom door and let you walk out first.

You’re not quite sure about how to feel about your interaction, but at least you felt like you defended August well and even made a new friend. She seemed nice enough anyway.

After she tells me everything that she and Rachel talk about, I feel a bit more at ease. Less like the detective thinks I murdered her mother, but more like his partner thinks something is going on between me and Babydoll.

Which there is, but she doesn’t need to know that.

Even if she did know, it isn’t illegal. She’s 18, a consenting adult, and she’s well taken care of. Not that I need to explain myself to anyone.

“Babydoll, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? Anything at all. Daddy is here to listen and to keep you safe.”

“I know, Daddy. There is something...but, I don’t know.” She ducks her head and looks to the floor.

I put a finger under her chin, lifting it so she can look at me. “Anything, Babydoll. You ask and I’ll make sure it gets done right away.”

“Daddy, I...don’t want to live here anymore. All I can see around me is bad memories with Mom. Or old memories with...my father. And neither of them is in my life anymore. Does it make me a bad person that all I wanna do is move on? I feel weird even being in the living room, so close to where Mom died.” She plays with her fingers and looks down again.

“Let me make a few calls, Babydoll. I’ll see if we can be out of the house by week’s end, alright?”

“Thank you, Daddy. This means a lot.” She stands and wraps her arms around my neck in a tight embrace. I hug her back and lift her off the ground a bit and she giggles. The tuneful sound tickles my ears, and I am happy to be the cause of it.

I kiss her cheek and send her up to her room to deflate. In the next few hours, I have a house lined up for us on the nicer side of town. Three bedrooms, three baths, finished basement, big backyard with an in-ground pool. A perfect place to start a new life.

By the end of the week, we are finishing up moving all our stuff over to the new house. Other than a small crying fit that Babydoll has while she and I go through her parents’ belongings and decide what to keep and what to donate, the move was mostly hassle-free.

One morning after a run to clear my head, I was surprised to have a visit from Detective Marshall, and this time he only wanted to talk to me. I let him in and ask Babydoll to give us some privacy. We talk for a short while about moving from the old house and how Babydoll is doing. I ask him to cut to the chase and he nods and tells me Babydoll’s father’s body has been found.

He was discovered in a hotel room with substances in his system, along with a suicide note that included his confession to killing his ex-wife. At that bombshell, I’m visibly unnerved. Marshall reaches out a hand to my shoulder and apologizes for having to deliver this information.

He makes a sort-of backhanded comment that my former partner must not have liked that I took his place in his family. I responded by saying it wasn’t appropriate to make assumptions about dead men. Besides, as his ex-wife told me many times, they were rocky well before I stepped in. Marshall also stated that since Babydoll’s father had confessed to the murder this case was now officially closed, and we could go ahead with a burial ceremony.

I thanked him for relaying the news and escorted him to the front door. Before he left, he made sure I knew he would be keeping an eye on us. Seems the detective doesn’t trust me. I couldn’t care less, honestly. Let him try and pin this all on me.

I mean, he could pin it all on me if he wanted to do so. It's not like he would be wrong in doing so.

But I covered all my tracks and sealed them airtight. And with my record, they’d be ridiculous to come after me now that they have a confession and another dead body on their hands.

I wait until the detective drives off in his large black Ford F-Series, leave my sneakers at the door, and then make my way up to find Babydoll. I find her sprawled across the bed in the Master bedroom, sketching something in her notebook. Technically, this is my bedroom and hers is down the hall, but she sleeps with me most nights.

“What are you up to, Babydoll?” I ask, coming around the bed to sit next to her and peer into her notebook.

She shuts it before I can get a good look inside, “It’s a surprise, Daddy. You can’t see it yet.”

“Oh, I'm not allowed to see it yet, huh? Well, I guess Babydoll isn’t allowed to cum tonight then. How about that?”

Fuck, I loved to tease her. She always made the cutest little pouty faces.

“Daddy! No! Please may I cum tonight? I’ll do anything. Just, I was making you something special and I don’t wanna show you ‘til it’s finished. I don’t wanna ruin the surprise. Please?” There goes that little pouty lip of hers, it could make me agree to anything.

“Ok, fine, Babydoll. But you’re gonna cum when Daddy says to.”

“I can be a good girl for you, Daddy. I promise.”

“There’s my good girl,” I lay back against the pillows after I shuck my muscle tank, joggers, and socks, “Show me that sweet little pussy while Daddy gets his dick ready for you.” I take out my length and start to stroke it while she pulls her panties down, laying on her back so she can show me how she plays with herself.

Within minutes, her cunt is making those glorious squelching sounds I love so much while she fingers herself for me. I am beyond hard at this point and I am salivating just to get inside her.

“Come up here and lay back Babydoll. Let Daddy have his turn now.”

She removes her fingers from her wet snatch and slides next to me. I take off my boxers and my cock springs up and bounces against my abdomen. Leaning over her, I position my dick at her entrance and slowly slide in thanks to the wetness she has accumulated.

“Fuck, Babydoll, you are so tight. You feel so perfect around me.” I don’t stop until my balls are against her ass and our hips are flush together. I’ve molded this pussy to fit my shaft perfectly. Pulling out, I slam back in and am rewarded with her angelic little whimpers.

I don’t necessarily need to last long; I just need to make sure I get her to her peak before I reach mine. I find a steady rhythm thrusting in and out of her tight heat that has her keening in my ear. Her arms are around my neck and her legs are wrapped around my waist.

I can feel her core tightening around me, and I know she is close. Reaching a hand between us, I use my thumb to flick against her clit to push her over the edge. Her moans tell me everything I need to know.

“Cum for me, Babydoll. Soak my fucking dick, sweet baby.” Not even a second later, I feel the tell-tale signs of her orgasm as her folds flutter around me and the dam breaks loose. She screams out and I can’t help myself.

I fuck into her until I feel my balls draw up and then I slam into her heat one last time. I swear I was going to pull out and I almost did, but the warmth and the tight fit and my exhaustion from the run got the better of me. I came deep inside her as my cockhead sat against her cervix. I didn’t give a fuck about anything except the notion of her cunt holding me so perfectly as I blew my load.

The only sounds in the room were of us catching our breath.

Once I could move again, I lean up on my knees and pull back from where I collapsed on top of her. Holding her legs open, I let my length slip out. Soon, my massive load starts to rush out and I push all of it back inside her as she lazily smiles up at me. I smile at her then pull her into the bathroom with me to shower.

She’s barely able to stand in the shower and I mostly hold her steady. We both get clean enough and I help her dry off then dry myself off and we make it back to the bedroom and lay back down in bed. I tell myself it is best to talk to her now about all this instead of waiting and possibly upsetting her.

“Alright, Babydoll. Daddy just creampied you, I didn’t pull out this time. I came inside you. Now, in the morning, Daddy is gonna run and get you a plan B pill so that you don’t get pregnant. But I think it might be time that we get you on birth control so that Daddy doesn't have to worry about this kind of thing in the future.” I speak slowly and clearly so she knows that I have her best interest at heart.

“Ok, Daddy. Can we take a nap now? I’m exhausted.” She is already rolling over on her side and throwing an arm across my chest.

“Yeah, Babydoll, let’s take a nap.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and kiss the top of her head.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking of her tummy round and swollen with my kid and her tits heavy with milk. But I know that’s just emotion talking. As much as I want to get her pregnant, right now it is far too soon after everything with her parents.

Right?

Part V (coming soon)

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to get out, loves. Anywho, hope you enjoyed this. I still have more in me, I think.

**Tag List**

@winterschildren8 @raccoon-eyed-rebel @viking-raider @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @livisss @randomweirdoss @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker [Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁]

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 4 months

Text

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone (Part 2)

Pairing: Jim Hopper x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: This is a continuation of "Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone" where the reader is a secretary at the Sheriff's Department and Hopper drives her to and from work everyday. Hopper gets worried when he finds out the reader is sick and decides to take care of her. This story is the aftermath and set a few days after the reader has recovered. Set before the events of Season One of Stranger Things.

Tropes: Mutual pining, angst, fluff, grump x sunshine, age gap (reader is fresh out of college), jealousy, shy reader

Warnings: No Smut, mostly fluff, self-deprecating talk, indecisiveness, occasional cursing/a lot of cursing, Hopper is a little OOC, contains a few references to sex (I'm going to label this one mature just in case, only because of Sandra.)

Word Count: 4.7k (I'm so sorry- but not really because it's great)

There is a minimal use of (y/n). Any references to the reader besides the (y/n) is done using "your" or "you."

Internal monologue is done in italics

Honestly, this is kinda self-indulgent, but absolutely necessary. If you don't like, don't read. If you do like, you're my favorite!

ENJOY!

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Exactly four days later you feel 100 times better and are ready to go back to work. Hopper hadn't stopped by again, but he had called to see how you were feeling and if you needed a ride to work. You glance at your reflection in the mirror trying not to cringe at the memory of Hopper peeling you off the bathroom floor and tucking you into bed.

UGH. I can't believe he saw me like that. You groan to yourself. All stuffy, hoarse, and drippy. EW. You internally curse Marcie for bringing back the illness from work. But then you thank her.

You had spent an entire day with Jim Hopper and you weren't scared. It wasn't that you were afraid of him hurting you, but rather that you were shy and usually couldn't think of too much to say to him without blurting out how nice you thought he looked.

He made you soup, carried you to bed, and carried you to the couch. Your cheeks warm with the memory of how perfect it felt to be held against his large chest, how his arms seemed to be made to carry you. You glance at my reflection in the mirror, thinking about putting on some of Marcie's makeup.

After Jim had seen you sick, you thought that maybe today you should try harder to dress up to erase the image of your feverish and leaky self the other day. You stutter on the thought of his name. When he left you hadn't meant to say it, you just wanted to call him by his first name because what he was doing felt personal and in that moment calling him Hopper, sounded wrong.

Maybe I scared him. You snort at the thought of scaring a man almost three times your size.

You were aware that your feelings for Hopper had passed work colleagues and friends a while ago, and you had been successfully ignoring them, until he showed up like a knight in shining armor and took care of you when you were sick.

I mean the man peeled me off the bathroom floor and TALKED TO MY MOTHER.

You flinch at that though. That had been increasingly awkward when she demanded to know if you were sleeping with your boss, a question that Marcie asked you when Hopper left and she came out of the shower with a wide smirk. When you said no she then tried to convince you that he wanted to, but you shook her off and went to bed.

Bed being a relative term, because every time you closed your eyes you thought about how good it felt to be pressed against him when he carried you.

That entire day all you could think of was that it seemed like maybe he had feelings for you too, but then when you hugged him and said his name he bolted.

You sigh to yourself, applying a small amount of mascara to your lashes, that you will inevitably rub off, and spritz your tangerine perfume twice in the air before glancing one more time in the mirror and walking to the living room.

Hopper's car appears in the driveway and you practically float out the front door, smiling to him through the windshield before looking down at the ground with red cheeks.

"Hi." You smile at him while climbing up into the car with as much grace as you can muster.

"Hey." His smile is wide, but his voice sounds a little hoarse.

"Oh no are you getting sick. I'm so sorry-"

Hopper clears his throat. "It's okay I'm fine."

"Well just let me know and I can make you some chicken soup, return the favor- ya know." You smile wider moving closer to the middle of the car, to bump your knee against his.

"Yeah." Hopper leans away, making you feel like a bucket of ice water has been dropped on you.

What did I do?

"Well I made you some lemon squares anyway." You reach into your purse before pulling out the container to give it to him.

"Lemon Squares?" The corner of his lip quirks.

"Yeah I made them from scratch."

"Really?"

"Mhmm. It's what I wanted to do before I started working at the department." You place the box on the seat between you.

"Make lemon squares?"

"No. Open a bakery." You blush looking out the window of the car and thinking of all the plans you had. "Now that kinda feels like that is on the back burner for a bit, just until I get more comfortable in Hawkins."

"I didn't know you liked baking that much." He looks over at you curiously from under the brim of his hat in a way that makes you believe that he sees right through you.

"Yeah I went to a fancy schmancy baking school and everything and I was going to open a bakery where I lived, but Marcie called, said she had cheap rent here and we always said we would be roommates so-" You shrug your shoulders. "Ended up here."

"And you hate it?" Hopper offers.

"No. It's just different." You smile over at him. "I actually really like working at the department, everyone's really friendly."

He snorts. "Not everyone."

"So what? You're a little grumpy, I think it's kinda cute-" As soon as the words pass through your lips you suddenly think that you've said something wrong, because Hopper's entire body goes taunt and he looks away out the windshield. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to-" You begin to apologize, blushing deeply.

You honestly hadn't meant to say it, but it was all you thought when you walked by his office door and saw him scowling down at some paperwork on his desk or when Callahan would ask him a stupid question before Hopper had his coffee.

"It's okay." Hopper's voice is tight, but he doesn't look at you in the minute that follows before he pulls into the parking lot of the station. He practically jumps from the car before he puts it in park, which you don't understand because you believe it should be you that's embarrassed. You didn’t think it would offend him so much.

Your cheeks are still burning with embarrassment as you walk behind him through the front doors, that he holds open for you, without making eye contact.

"Hey (y/n)! Good morning! I got you coffee." Callahan gestures with a full mug in his hand so enthusiastically he spills some of it on the stack of papers on the edge of your desk.

"Oh-um- thanks Callahan." Your smile is tight lipped, still too focused on what just happened in the car to give Callahan your full attention.

Callahan usually said hello before his shift and did occasionally bring you coffee. And although you thought he was sweet, he was too sweet. You preferred Hopper's grouchiness to Callahan's happy go lucky attitude, but still appreciated Callahan's positivity in the office.

Hopper growls something under his breath and sidesteps around Callahan to get to his office without looking back. Callahan follows behind him obediently asking Hopper about something that happened yesterday.

You sit down at your desk and try really hard not to cry, but every second sit there what you said and Hopper's reaction chase each other round and round in your head.

How could I be so stupid? How could I say that? He's your boss- you shouldn't be trying to get close to him.

At lunchtime you try again.

Your knock at his office door is light, but after an audible pause he tells you to come in. Hopper's eyes are focused on the stack of papers in front of him, cigarette still smoking in the ashtray, and although you know he's working, you have the sneakiest suspicion that he is faking. The Hopper before this morning usually looked up as soon as you walked in and smiled, ignoring the stack of papers on his desk no matter how tall it was- but not today, not in the aftermath of your slip-up.

"Hey I just thought I'd bring you a lemon square to go with your lunch." You smile at him, hoping that he will acknowledge your entry into the room.

"Uh-thanks." He doesn't look up.

You place it just on the edge of his desk just out of his vision, waiting for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. His gaze remains leveled at the paper. So you turn to go, defeated.

"Hey (y/n)-"

You whirl around, your heart surging-

"Um I'm going to be a little late tonight. Maybe you should call Marcie to come get you." He says it plainly, controlled, still looking down at the file.

"Oh-um-okay." Your heart breaks inside your chest and tears begin to bubble up in your eyes, but you hold back the tears. "That's alright I hope you don't have to stay too late."

You practically run to the bathroom before the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks, soft sobs shaking your shoulders. Why did I do this? Why couldn't I have kept my big mouth shut? Pretend that I didn't have feelings? The mascara you applied that morning blurs and stains the soft skin below your eyes. You spend another 8 minutes in the bathroom trying to remove it and finally when you emerge from the bathroom with bloodshot eyes and bright pink skin, your day somehow gets worse.

Sandra breezes past your desk as soon as you sit down. Damn Sandra. You have to clench your teeth together to avoid the slew of curses that bite against the tip of your tongue.

"Hopper." She purrs sauntering over to catch Hopper just as he leaves his office. She's wearing a dark red dress that hugs her every curve and runs one hand through her perfectly curled black hair where two plastic earrings tangle into the strands.

What person wears a dress that revealing to work? You think to yourself, watching Sandra flash her perfectly tan skin when she pulls off her sweater, before leaning into Jim with a sickening smile.

You force your eyes onto a piece of paper on my desk, but the words all blur together into a haze of black and white.

Sandra was in essence... everything you wanted to be. She was confident, sexy, and beautiful. She also wasn't afraid to say what was on her mind, that became increasingly apparent when Hopper first started driving you to and from work and she cornered you in the bathroom.

*4 Months Ago*

"So you and the chief are getting cozy-" She was waiting at one of the vanity mirrors for you to come out of a stall while applying a fresh coat of dark red lipstick.

"Um I don't think we-" You had practically jumped when she appeared outside your stall door. Sandra hadn't said two words to you since you started working at the department. She worked in the call room and answered the phone, while you worked in the main lobby with Flo.

"Look Honey I’m gonna give you some advice, because I’ve seen this happen more than once.” She makes eye contact with you, still swiping the dark colored stick back and forth, purposely plumping out her lips. “Sure he seems interested in you now, maybe he takes you out once or twice, laughs at your jokes, pays for dinner, is just the right amount of charming- Jim Hopper is the smoothest man who knows how to work any woman under him.” She pauses with a sigh. “He’ll screw your brains out- and it will be incredible, mind blowing-but at the end of the day Hopper is damaged goods. Can’t get it together enough to stay with a woman for more than one night, of course we seem to be closer than the others…” She trails off proudly with a shrug, before putting her lipstick in her purse and taking out a tube of mascara. “But I’m warning you now, you can’t have a relationship with him. He's only good for one thing and definitely not boyfriend material. Anything he says to you before he gets you in bed, is just a lie, broken promises. I've seen it time and time again, all these women who think they can change him. But no. He doesn't change. All that shit with his daughter and his ex-wife messed him up for all of us, which really is a shame because damn I’d like to have him all the time.” Sandra sighs mournfully.

She doesn’t even care what he’s been through, doesn’t even care what he feels. You stand there in stunned silence, trying to stop the all encompassing rage that surges up with her words. How dare she simplify him to just a piece of meat? Jim Hopper is one of the most kind, compassionate men that I've ever met. And yes maybe at the beginning he ignored me, which I've got no idea why, but he's not just something to be used for sex, he's a person. And that's horrible to act like what he went through was nothing. He lost his daughter to CANCER and then he had a divorce. Who wouldn’t be effected by that? I see everyday how it hurts him.

“But if he’s going to be with anyone it’s me. Because we make sense. Just wanted to give you a heads up.” She says swiping her right eye one last time before throwing the mascara in her purse. “He’s definitely not going to want a relationship with someone half his age with no experience. And he always comes back to me.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Your jaw is clenched together, holding yourself back from throwing down with a coworker. But oh how she deserves it.

“Good.” Sandra winks. “Bye sugar.”

*Present Time*

You flash out of the memory before grabbing a pen from one the cups on your desk so you can pretend to be writing something when in reality you're shamelessly eavesdropping on them and trying not to notice how Sandra is dragging her claw-like hand across the front of his chest.

"Hey Sandra." Hopper tips his hat with his free hand. You can hear the smile in his voice.

"I was hoping that tonight maybe you could come over? We just had such a nice time the other night and I was thinking that we should do that more often." You don't miss Sandra glance over at you when she says it.

You suddenly wonder how accurately you can throw the pen.

"Uh well." He chuckles.

"You didn't have a good time? Well it sounded like you were having a good time." She presses again, this time sending a flirty smile at him.

I'm going to throw up.

Honestly you had thought about being with Hopper once-well- more than once, but it wasn't just to reduce him to sex. It was because you loved him and you wanted him to just-. You watch the way he looks at Sandra, smiling down at her. You wanted him to look at you the way he looks at her.

He hesitates. "I did."

Hopper glances over Sandra's head at you, catching your gaze, but you immediately drop your eyes, blushing at getting caught. A sickening feeling fills your chest imagining them together, thinking of how he makes her feel, how she makes him feel.

Maybe he really likes her and he's just afraid to tell her or is afraid of the commitment. You consider sadly. I need to just get over this, move on. It’s only going to make working here harder. Plus he’s my boss. Might as well set boundaries… You think about the other day when he took care of you, held you close to his chest so tightly it didn't seem like he was just being friendly. He made me soup, tucked me into bed, carried me to my bed. How can he go from that to barely looking at me? Hot to cold so quickly that I feel like I'm covered in frostbite and sunburnt at the same time?

"Good. I'm free at 6 and I stay up late. Bring some more of that wine, you know how it makes me do crazy things." She winks, before kissing Hopper on the cheek and sauntering away, but not before glancing at you one more time with a smirk.

And there's the answer. He'd rather spend time with her.

You see her pouting her lips in the mirror again, making you feel inferior with just a look. Maybe that's why he doesn't like me, because I'm too young? Inexperienced? It's not like I'm a child. It wouldn't be that weird to date me would it?

You watch him turn and walk back to his office avoiding eye contact with you the whole way, making something tug at your heart as he does. Will today be the last day he drives me to work? All because I said that I thought it was cute that he was grumpy? Maybe this is because he's worried I have feelings for him and he just wants to be friends, which he's right I do, but I wish that he would just tell me, not avoid me!

The next few hours trickle by in a haze while you sit at your desk and try to pretend your heart isn’t broken. Hopper passes exactly twice and both times he doesn’t acknowledge you.

Just like old times I guess. You think about the two months before he started driving you home, when you were still relatively new and he avoiding speaking to you and would give you a tight-lipped smile occasionally that never reached his eyes, for a reason he never explained. You thought it was because he hated you, but it changed when he started driving you home and you hadn't ever asked.

When it’s finally time for you to go you don’t bother to call Marcie, instead you just begin to walk the 1.23 miles home and of course as soon as you leave, it begins to rain.

Exactly 30 seconds after you leave the station you're soaked to the bone and shivering, but you refuse to go back to the department.

I can’t go back and see him again. Everyone else has probably left by now anyway and the last thing I want to do is catch him sneaking off to Sandra's. He probably wasn't staying late at work, just needed an excuse not to take me home ever again.

Tears fall from your eyes blending with the rain that trickles down your cheeks, making your hair tangle in a wet mat at the nape of your neck, but you don't care. Within 30 minutes I'll be home curled up on the couch after a hot shower, bawling my eyes out properly while Marcie hands me a pint of ice cream from the freezer. You raise your eyes to look at the desolate sidewalk ahead. Just a little longer.

Cars pass you along the road, illuminating your body for a moment before vanishing into the darkness beyond. Each yellowed streetlight stands like a beacon, but all they do is illuminate the raindrops that swirl from the heavens and soak through your thick sweater, that you guessed smelled like a wet dog right about now.

Appropriate because I probably look like a drenched poodle.

Finally a car races past you so fast you feel the wind tear across your body, but instead of vanishing into the night, the car screeches to a halt in the road. The driver shuts off the vehicle, and you watch them maneuver their large figure from the car, before stomping around to the sidewalk where you are walking with your arms wrapped around yourself.

Fear trickles down your back and you think about running. Your mother had sent you countless bottles of pepper spray and despite Marcie's incessant pleas for the two of you to take the only self-defense class in Hawkins, you weren't prepared for something like this. The pepper spray she sent was still on your desk and the self-dense class never seemed to be at the right time for you both to fit it into your schedule. Right about now you wished that you made time.

You prepare to run, when finally the street light above the imposing figure catches the face of the driver beneath his hat and you realize that it's Hopper. He towers over you, glaring down from under his hat.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? I TOLD YOU TO CALL MARCIE TO PICK YOU UP!" He roars dark eyes flashing in the night.

"Why are you yelling at me?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE OUT HERE WALKING IN THE RAIN ALONE! DAMN IT (Y/N) YOU WERE JUST SICK-"

"Just leave me alone Hopper. Or better yet just get in your car and go to Sandra’s." You shout back, finding your voice.

Who did he think he was? My dad? He drives up out of nowhere, scares the crap out of me, and then he starts yelling at me for no good reason.

"Sandra?" He looks taken aback.

And then whatever shred of self-control you have crumbles.

Tears pour from your eyes like a flood as you curl further into yourself. "I don't understand why you're so mad at me. If this is about what I said in the car, I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend you I just-" Another sob chokes your next words. “Please just forget it happened so we can just go back to being friends. I don't want to go back to the way things were before you started giving me a ride. I like talking to you and riding with you and I don't understand what I did to make you hate me so much in the beginning, but please-"

Hopper closes the distance between you so quickly that you don't have time to move away in surprise. His hands go around your waist lifting you up in his arms so he doesn't have to bend down to kiss you. His lips moving furiously against yours, wet from the rain but just as soft as you imagined, mustache tickling your upper lip in a maddening dance that makes you sigh into his mouth.

Your hands gently catch the sides of his face looking into his wide eyes. He's looking at you like he can't believe what he just did.

He looks afraid.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that.” He begins to lean away, hands lowering you to the ground.

You pull him against you and kiss him as deeply as you can, trying to tell him that you want this too, that you want him. "Please don't push me away again." Your words are exhaled in one breath, tears still falling from your eyes.

"I just-" Jim's eyes are wide, but he presses his forehead against yours with a sigh. "I don't want to do this to you, (y/n). I can't-"

"What are you talking about?" Your thumbs rub against his cheekbones, feeling the scratch of his stubble against your soft fingertips.

"I tried to stay away from you because you're so different than me.” He grumbles lowly. “That’s why I didn’t talk to you when you first started workin' at the department.” Hopper looks ashamed of himself, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from you. "I didn't want to like you like that."

“We’re not that different.”

“We are. You're like the sun (y/n). You brighten a room just by walking in it, hell, just by saying your name.” His eyebrows furrow together and he sighs again. “And I'm just an old grump. I don't want to ruin you or make you-"

You kiss him as softly as you can and he kisses you back confirming that he really doesn't want to push you away. "Jim, you're not going to ruin me. And yes you're grumpy but I think it's cute."

"I've heard." Hopper smiles, but then he frowns when he remembers what happened earlier. "I'm so sorry about today. When you said that in the car the only thing I thought about was how it couldn’t work and it made me think about you and Callahan. And then he was standing there with your coffee-“

“Jim, there is no me and Callahan. The only thing I want is you and me.” Your forehead leans against his. “You might see yourself as some giant grumpy grizzly bear, but you’re my giant grumpy grizzly bear.”

He snorts, but this time leans towards you to capture his lips against yours, wiping away the cold chill of the rain to set your body ablaze.

An odd look crosses his face as he remembers what you said moments ago. "Please don't be jealous of Sandra. I know she's a lot sometimes. And yes we've spent some time together in the past-" Hopper clears his throat, ashamed. "But the only reason why I kept seeing her was because I was trying to get you out of my head, because I didn't think that you would ever-"

"Jim." You whisper. "You don't have to explain anything-"

"No I do. Flo told me what she said to you in the bathroom."

"What? How did she-" Your cheeks flush, suddenly embarrassed that he had to hear any of the horrible things that Sandra said about him.

"I told Sandra to leave you alone, but I don’t think she listened to me. She's oddly possessive, but we haven't spent half as much time together as she led you to believe-"

"Jim-"

He brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes. "I promise that the way I feel about her is only a fraction of what I feel about you. And I know that my reputation in town is-" Hopper clears his throat again with red cheeks. "But I don't just want one night with you (y/n), I want more. I haven't wanted more for a long time and that scared me at first, but if you'll be patient with me I'd like to make this work. And I'm sorry that I made you believe that I hated you, when it's the complete opposite."

“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t think so lowly of yourself. What Sandra said about you, it's not true. You're more that what she thinks, Jim. She only sees what she wants to, but I know you. You're kind, generous, strong, and you care so much for everyone that I wonder how you give so much of yourself without asking for anything in return.” You move your hands gently around to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, placing a kiss against his cheeks, nose, and mouth for each attribute listed. “I was so happy when you stayed the other day. And when you left all I wanted was for you to come back.”

“I wanted to stay longer, but I was scared that you didn’t want me there."

“I always want you with me. You have no idea how much.” You kiss him again. "I love that you drive me every day, and every morning when you come to pick me up I get excited to see you. I also find myself wanting for work to end so I can see you again."

Hopper smiles softly at you, hands tightening around your waist that sends a thrill up your spine. Everything about this feels right, more perfect than it has felt with anyone else.

"It's difficult to stay in my office, not when I know you're out there. Sometimes I can't get work done until I see you smile." He traces a finger over your lips as if trying to draw your smile across them.

"Jim-"

Hopper kisses you again. "I like it when you say my name." He whispers against your lips, pulling you even tighter against his broad chest.

"I like saying it." You whisper back.

The rain has continued to fall on both of you, by now soaking through Hopper's jacket, but neither of you feel cold.

"Come on. Lets get you home." Hopper breathes beginning to move you towards his car.

"Hmm." You sigh as he lets go to open the door. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He stands there holding the door for a minute, the rain continuing to soak into his uniform as he gazes at where you sit in the front seat.

“What?”

Hopper leans forward and kisses you again, pulling you tightly into his large chest with a groan, as you tangle your fingertips in the front of his rain-soaked clothing, before he pulls back to press his forehead against yours out of breath.

“What was that for?” You ask leaning back on your elbows across the front seat of his car.

Hopper smiles down at you with red cheeks. “I really liked the lemon square.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“As long as I’m a dork that gets to kiss you, I think it’ll be okay.”

"I'm sure we can work something out." You whisper before pulling him down for another searing kiss and allowing the world to melt away into shades of gray and the soft patter of rain against the roof of the car.

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Thank you so much for reading!

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper #jim hopper fluff #chief hopper x reader #sunshine x grumpy #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #jim hopper x fem!reader #stranger things #strangerthings

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missclementinex · 6 months

Text

Solatium.

Hurt/comfort, victim of domestic violence and emotional abuse, soft!Billy, f!reader.

I needed some hurt/comfort. This is entirely self indulgent.

&&&&

You stood inside the water, memories of your ex husband’s cruel gaze etched in your mind, his cruel words. “Can’t do anything without me.” He’d said looking cold, unfeeling. You could feel your breath coming out in short spurts, as your lungs ached with the force of your anxiety.

You couldn’t do anything without him. Who were you kidding? You gripped the shower wall, fingers clawing at it. You felt like you were adrift at sea with nothing but water all around you, no land in sight.

Billy snapped you out of your memories, and pushed his way into the shower, after seeing you spiraling when he came in to bring some towels. “Your suit—“ you said softly, blinking up at him.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He said roughly, standing under the water in an Armani suit, his dark eyes burning into yours. He gripped your jaw, kissing your forehead. He grabbed the loofah, soaping it up in his hands before scrubbing you gently, making you melt and your eyes flutter.

Your shaking stopped, as you relaxed under Billy’s firm touch, grounding you to reality. Your ex husband wasn’t here. He couldn’t hurt you.

Billy’s touch was tender, so different from your ex’s. It made you crave for more of his affection, but you were afraid he wouldn’t give it to you.

You reached out for him, fingers curling into his soaked suit jacket, as you leaned into him.

“That’s it, baby.” Billy hummed, “Relax, and let me take care of you. I got you.”

Maybe you could be free, strong even, under Billy’s care.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

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call-me-little-sunshine84 · 1 year

Text

Sick Day

Steven Grant x female reader

Characters: Steven Grant x female reader

Rating: mature

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: Steven takes care of you when you're sick and you want to repay his kindness 😏

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, a lot of him calling reader 'love', that's about it

A/N: I have never written for the moon boys before. I don't mention the alters in this, I wanted this one to just be about Steven because he deserves so much love. It's fluff with some smut (probably a little self-indulgent); hopefully I did him justice.

Comments and reblogs welcome!

It started halfway through your shift at the office, that feeling that you were coming down with something. Head congested, sinus pressure, body aches, it hit you all at once. By the time you made it back home to the apartment you shared with Steven, you were barely staying upright. Apparently, you must have looked as badly as you felt, because as soon as he came out of his office to greet you, concern flashed across his face. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, moving to embrace you. Backing up, you said “please stay away, I don’t want to get you sick too. I think it’s just a cold or something. Too much time in the rain, or maybe too much public transportation.” Grimacing, you threw your purse on the table by the door. “Let me take care of you tonight, darling,” he said, and even though you felt like garbage, it still warmed your heart.

He proceeded to run you a bath, even adding eucalyptus oil to soothe your congestion. He helped you remove your clothes, and you sank gratefully into the hot water, letting it seep into your aching muscles. He stayed with you, keeping you company and helping you bathe. He ran the washcloth gently over your body, and you sank into his touch. When he was done, you dried off while he grabbed your robe from the back of the door. “You go get comfortable in bed, and I’ll bring you some soup,” he offered. You accepted gratefully, throwing on your softest pajamas and turning the tv to a mindless reality show. He returned before long, holding a tray with a steaming bowl of soup and some crackers. He even brought a bottle of cold medicine. Your heart swelled. He had to be the most thoughtful, caring man you had ever met.

You ate quickly, like you were starving. After drinking the awful tasting medicine, you could barely hold your eyes open. He came back in to get your bowl and gave you a tender kiss on the forehead. “Get some rest, love,” he whispered, turning off the light as he exited the room.

When you finally woke up the next day, you almost had a panic attack when you looked at the clock and saw it was 2:30, and judging by the sunlight streaming through the window, it was afternoon, not morning. You jumped out of bed, almost tripping in the tangle of twisted sheets. Running to the kitchen, you searched for your phone to call your boss. “Hello darling, how are you feeling?” Steven asked when he saw you. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I’ve missed almost an entire day of work!” you said, anxiety taking over. “Love, it’s Saturday. You don’t work today,” he reminded you. Relief coursed through you. Of course. Once you calmed down, you realized you actually did feel a lot better. Then you remembered the previous night.

“You're right, I’m sorry. Thank you so much for everything you did for me yesterday. I feel much better now. Maybe it was just a 24-hour thing,” you told him, and his cheeks turned an adorable shade of red from your praise. “Nonsense, it was nothing. I’m glad you’re well,” he replied. You moved over to him, hugging him tightly. “I am so grateful for you, Steven,” you told him, placing a feather soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to take a quick shower,” you said, heading for the bathroom. Using your best smelling soap - and actually being able to smell it - finished lifting your mood. You decided you wanted to do something to show Steven just how much you appreciated him, and there was one surefire way to accomplish that.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you exited the bathroom. He was in his office, nose buried in a book. He looked up when he realized you were in the doorway. Walking over to him, you slowly unwrapped the towel from around you, dropping it on the floor. He visibly shivered looking at you, desire vibrating off every inch of him, and you could feel the excitement pooling between your legs. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked, looking deep into your eyes for confirmation. “Yes baby, I’m sure.”

Closing the distance between you, you straddled him in his chair, kissing him deeply. Tongues tangling, he ran his hands over your body, roaming over you like he had never touched you before. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his erection through his pants. You ground down onto him, searching for contact. Running your hands through his chocolate curls, you gasped as he touched your breasts, tracing small circles with his fingertips, hardening your nipples. Then he took first one, then the other into his warm mouth, sucking softly, the sensation pulling sounds from you that you didn’t know were possible. “Come with me,” you said breathlessly, dragging him from the chair and toward your bedroom.

All of your plans went out the window once you reached the bed. He quickly removed his clothes, pushing you onto the mattress and crawling on top of you. One look in his wide lust-blown eyes and you knew you were done for. “Steven…,” you whined as he positioned himself between your thighs and slid inside you. This was unusual, the lack of foreplay, sex without preamble. “Sorry, love, need you now, couldn’t wait,” he grunted as his thrusts became steady, pushing deeper each time.

Relishing the feeling of being full of him, you wanted to give him anything he wanted, give him the world if that’s what he asked for. The look of utter concentration on his gorgeous face as he worked so hard to please you made you even wetter. “That’s it baby, you feel so good fucking me like that,” you told him, and the praise from you seemed to break loose something in him. He grasped your hips, pulling your center as tightly against him as he could. Sweat dripped down his chest and you reached out to lick it off. He trembled at the feeling of your tongue on his skin, and you bit gently at his nipples, pulling groans from him that you wished you could record for later. Clenching down on his dick, desperately seeking release, you hissed as he placed a thumb on your swollen clit. Swirling gently, applying just the right amount of pressure, he worked your body until pulses of white-hot lightning shot through you over and over. Yelling his name repeatedly, an orgasmic love song, Steven also reached his climax, shooting his warm seed into you and he collapsed on the bed beside you, wrung out.

Rolling over next to him, you placed your head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat slowing as you drew random patterns on his torso with your fingernails. You looked up at him adoringly. “Thank you, Steven,” you said sincerely. “What on earth for, love?” he asked, genuinely puzzled, running a hand through his curls. “For being you. For always taking care of me and just for...well, everything. I love you,” you replied, hoping he fully understood just how much he meant to you. Holding him tightly, you knew right beside him was the only place you ever wanted to be.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #moon knight smut #moon knight #oscar isaac #steven grant x you #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fluff #steven grant one shot

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xdaddysprincessxx · 8 months

Text

The Cabin in the Woods ll

Dave York x f!reader

Dark fic/ dead dove, again Dave is mean (he’s a bad guy) also I made him bi in this 🏳️‍🌈, death, sprinkle of angst, sad backstory, the cabin description is sooo self indulgent, Dave pov, female and male masturbation, cum eating, like 1 threat, dirty talk, food & drink, uh I think that’s it.

Summary: it’s been days since you almost escaped from the mystery man. Too bad you failed and he threw you in the basement.

A/n: Here’s part 2 babes!!! Thank you so much for all the kind words and support you’ve given on part 1. It means the world to me. This is lightly edited, I gave it a once over but I’m feeling a lot more confident with this one(:

You can’t help but close your eyes as you look up and let the sun wash over you, warming up your whole body. You’ve always loved the feeling of the sun on your face. The smell of fresh cut grass, the fragrant flowers your mom always planted every spring, the sound of kids running and playing. Being outside in your own little world has always been your favorite place to be. Just as you feel your whole body relax you notice how quiet it got and how quickly the sun has gone and instead been replaced by dark, nasty storm clouds rolling in. The smell of water flooding your nose. You open your eyes to see an empty field. The sun is gone, no sign of life anywhere. And there’s that horrible sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

The sound of rain hitting the small basement windows is what wakes you this time. Shivering, you slowly open your eyes. The basement. The mystery man. You sigh as you remember you’ve been kidnapped and after trying to escape, being thrown in this dark, damp basement. It’s been two, no three days since the mystery man chained you up down here. Honestly your not even sure how long it’s been. Even with the little sunlight you get from the windows, time has escaped you entirely. What you do know is that your starving, thirsty and you feel gross. You are in desperate need of a shower and a 5 course meal asap. Your thoughts are rudely interrupted a few seconds later by heavy footsteps right above your head followed by the chain link being unlocked to the basement door.

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It’s been 3 days since Dave took you and brought you to his cabin. 3 days since he touched you and you bit his dick. Dave is no angel, he’s had plenty of partners over the years. Men and women alike and a few have tried to blow him and scrapped their teeth but never has he had someone bite his dick. At first he was surprised at how well you were responding to him and his touch. He had done his research on you of course. Dave knew all about you before he grabbed you. Had to know who he was dealing with. And yes he did expect you to try to escape but he never expected you to actually get away from him. As bad as his dick hurt, that chase was almost worth it. Something primal about hunting your own prey out in the wild and taking them on the cold, hard ground like a wild animal. He hasn’t came that hard in years.

Dave is pulled from his thoughts quickly when he realizes he should bring you some food and water. It has been awhile and I’m sure she’s starving by now. Maybe she’s learned her lesson, dave thinks as he grabs a plate out of the cabinet and gets to work making you a pb&j and a glass of water.

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You hear the door creak open and you can’t help but wince at the sound of the man’s foot hitting the first step. You do your best to curl into yourself and be as little as possible. You have no idea what he’s gonna do to you and you know there’s a really good chance he hates you. You squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, wishing yourself away when the man hits the bottom of the stairs and makes his way to stand in front of you.

Dave clears his throat, “Wake up princess. I brought you something to eat and some water.”

What? He did what? You literally don’t even believe it, your eyes snap open and look up at the man. Holy fucking shit, he really did bring me food and water! You uncurl from yourself, keeping your eyes down, unsure if you should reach out to grab the plate and cup or wait for him to put it down on the ground.

“Are you gonna grab the plate or just sit there? Here.” He says as he shoves the sandwich in your direction.

You don’t need to be told twice, you grab the plate and cup from the mystery man and begin demolishing the pb&j as if your life depended on it. Which it kinda does since one does need food and water to live.

The man just stands there, staring at you while you eat like a rabid animal. A look on his face, half in awe and the other half in disgust? Or maybe he feels bad for starving you and it’s pity? Your not sure.

“Thank you.” You whispered, barely able to get the words out. Your throat feels so sore but after a huge gulp of water, you managed to use your manners.

It almost no time your finishing your sandwich, already wishing you hadn’t ate so fast. “How long will I be down here?” you manage to ask the mystery man.

“I guess it depends. I already told you, if you can be a good girl for me the better this will all be for you.” the mystery man replies to you as he looks away.

“May I take a shower please? And more water? Maybe a blanket? It’s cold down here.” you start to beg already, hoping for a little mercy. “I’ll be good I promise. I’ll do whatever you want. Please I just- I’m dirty and cold and hungry. I’ll do anything.”

The man continues to stand there, contemplating your plea, “Yea but you listen to me. No running away from me, you have to be in my line of sight at all times. If you try anything, I’ll shoot you dead.” he finally answers.

Your eyes grow even wider, looking up at him like a deer in the headlights, “Yes of course I won’t try anything. I’ll be good. I promise.” You replied with a quickness, eager for a shower, food and a warm blanket.

“Alright come on” dave says as he grabs the key from his back pocket to unlock your chains.

Quickly you push your legs out in front of you so the man can get to the chains to unleash you. As soon as your ankles are unchained the man grabs you by your upper arm roughly to help you stand up and before you can get your footing he’s practically dragging you up the stairs.

Once upstairs, you see that the whole cabin is almost like one big room. To the left of the basement door is the kitchen, complete with a little island with a flat top grill. The kitchen then opens up into the living room except it’s not much of a living room. There is an L shaped black leather couch and a big flat screen tv on the wall but no family pictures or decorations. This mystery man is either horrible at home decor or he keeps it minimal for a reason. And the reason you think why scares you even more.

The two of you walk over towards the other side of the living room towards the back where the bedroom was. You didn’t notice it before but there is a door right next to the bedroom door. The man opens it up and flips a light switch to illuminate the most gorgeous bathroom you’ve ever seen. A deep jacuzzi tub sits in the corner directly in front of the door as you walk in, to the right is the toilet and sink. The walls are a beautiful marble gray and the wall behind the tub is a white and gray brick. This cabin is incredible. Maybe in another lifetime you could’ve met him under different circumstances and fallen in love and shared this cabin. Fucking each other everywhere like wild animals.

The man roughly shoves you into the bathroom causing you to stumble. “Ouch” you said quietly under your breath.

“Take your clothes off, soaps on the shelf next to the tub. You can take a bath.” He barks out at you.

“Um okay,” you say as you look around kind of sheepishly, waiting for him to leave or at least turn around so you can undress.

“Go on. Take. Off. Your. Clothes. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Dave tells you.

You can’t help but rolls your eyes at the man. He terrifies you but the whole macho man act he has going on is an absolute joke to you. Do you think he could snap your neck with one hand? Yes. Do you really believe he’s all grr? Partially yes but you really feel like he is soft under all these layers. At the end of the day he’s just a man. And men aren’t indestructible.

You just huff and turn around to start taking off your dirty dress and shoes. Once your naked you bend over to run the water. As you bend over you can’t help but remember how good his cock felt pounding into you. As scared as you were, the mystery man gave you the best fuck of your life. You decide to give him a little show and bend down a little more than necessary, arching your back a little, knowing he can see your pussy on full display this way.

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Watching you undress and bend over has Dave already hardening in his pants. He notices the way you arch your back, almost like your purposefully putting on a show for him. He gets an idea that makes him smirk. And as long as you do what he says, the both of you will be satisfied.

After starting the water, Dave watches you walk over to the shelf and look at the different bubble baths, salts and body washes he has to offer. Originally this cabin was for him and his family. Loving wife and two beautiful daughters. They deserved a good life, much better than Dave. It was his fault they lost their lives. A few years back, dave and his men took a job and it went bad fast. The guy they were sent to kill just so happened to also be an assassin. The guy found out about Dave’s family and cut the brakes on the family van. His wife and girls died in a tragic car accident. It should have been him.

By this point, Dave realizes you were already sitting in the bath, surrounded by sweet, vanilla scented bubbles. With your head laying against the headrest in the jacuzzi tub and your eyes closed, Dave couldn’t help but notice how peaceful you looked. You weren’t a bad person. Definitely not an assassin. But you came too close to exposing him and his men and he couldn’t risk another job gone bad. That’s why he had to take you and save his ass.

Dave saunters over to the edge of the tub and crouch’s down. Looking down at your body, thoughts of taking you right here and now flood his mind. Instead he pushes a button causing the jets to go off. Immediately you shoot up, eyes shooting open, half scared, half confused at what just happened.

Dave starts chuckling at your reaction, “ Calm down sweetheart. It’s just the jets. Help you relax since you will be here for awhile. Might as well get used to this place.”

“How long will I be here?” you ask him, your sweet voice fills his ears. Wishing he was hearing your moans instead.

Dave grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks, making your face squish up and pulls you towards him, “For however long I say little girl.” he responds sternly, “For now I need you to be my good girl and listen to me.”

With a hold still on your face, he moves his so his mouth is right by your ear, “Now get on your knees and face me until you feel the jet on your pussy.” he whispers, his hot breath sending chills down your body despite the warm water.

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You were stunned. The way he grabbed your face and then had the balls to whisper that in your ear, your pussy’s wet. The bitch is wet and not because your sitting in water either. You should not be turned on. The way his voice chills you to the bone. The way his touch is like an electrical shock to your system. This man is a killer. You can tell he’s done shit like this before and here you are ready to bend over and take his cock the very second he whips it out.

Speechless, you do as he says and you get on your knees in the tub, facing him. Almost immediately you feel the jet. The pressure of the water hits your clit in such a way you can’t help but let out a soft moan. Through half lidded eyes, you watch the man’s face soften as he watches you.

“Mm I see you found it. It must feel good huh princess?” he asks knowing damn well it does feel good.

“Uh huh” you nod as you shift around to get the jet to hit your pussy just right.

“That’s it pretty girl. Now touch yourself. Put a finger in that pretty pussy for me.” the mystery man said in a deep, guttural tone.

In a flash your hand moves down to your pussy and immediately you plunge two fingers into yourself, trying to get the best angle to hit your sweet spot.

The man finally lets go of your face as he stands up, the front of his lower body directly staring you in the face. He’s quick to unbutton his jeans and pull his thick cock out, already weeping precum. The sight of that alone has you licking your lips.

“Aht. I can see right through you princess. After your little stunt, it’ll be a long time before you get my cock back in that pretty little mouth of yours.” the man says, shutting down any thoughts you had of tasting him again. You did enjoy the feel of his cock in your mouth, enjoyed the taste and how heavy he was before you bit him.

Dave starts stroking his cock in front of your face. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more turned on, the man starts moaning and rolling his eyes to the back of his head as he’s stroking himself.

Holding out his hand towards you, “Spit”, he orders. And spit you do. You spit as best you can onto his hand and watch him lube up his cock with it.

Between the jet putting constant pressure on your clit and your fingers curled up deep inside, you already feel yourself getting close. And from the looks of it, the man’s close too. Without even thinking you look up at him with your best doe eyes and stick your tongue out for him.

“Oh fuck, yea? You want my cum princess? Such a fucking whore, sticking your tongue out hoping I’ll cum all over this pretty fucking face.” he growls, “fuck nngh keep that tongue out baby I’m close fuck”

You fingers start to go into overdrive, plunging in and out of your pussy. You can’t help but go over the edge just from his words. Holy fuck you just wanna be his little slut, he is right you do want him to cum all over your face so bad.

Moaning out loud, you cum hard just as he starts to cum. Rope after rope hits you in the face. Both of you breathing hard as you come down from your high, you take your fingers out of your pussy and bring them up to your face and wipe his cum off only to stick the cum covered fingers in your mouth.

“Mmm” you can’t help but let out a satisfied sigh as you taste him and yourself. Maybe it’s the endorphins from coming but you like this. Something about this man is bringing out this little vixen that’s been laying dormant inside of you for too long.

Dave just stares at you in disbelief. Did she really just do that? And already he can tell he’s fucked. Ever since the first night he took her, there’s something about her that has him wanting more. More of what he’s not exactly sure.

“Come on, finish up. When your done I’ll give you fresh clothes and some blankets.” Dave says flatly as he puts himself back into his jeans. He’s gonna pretend this little performance didn’t happen, for now at least.

Confused by this sudden cold shoulder of sorts, you finish washing your body and hair and reach to grab your towel to dry off as you step out of the bathtub. Once your dried off, you wrap the towel around you and look back at the man to lead you to the next stop.

Once he sees your ready to go, he grabs your arm again but this time not as rough but still has a tight grip and he leads you to the bedroom next door. As you walk in he stops you next to the bed and walks over to the dresser to pull out a old, used tshirt and an old pair of boxers.

“Here, put these on. I don’t have much here but this will do for now.” the mystery man states in a monotone. You move to grab the clothes from him and begin dressing. Once your all dressed you look back up at him for your next directions. Swiftly he grabs your arm once again and leads you out the bedroom. Going towards the basement door he stops at what seems to be a closet in the living room and pulls out a huge comforter and a quilt. Ever the silent type, he wordlessly hands you the blankets and continues on towards the basement door.

Once settled back downstairs, Dave chains you back up and leaves you alone in the dark. You manage to make a little pallet on the floor and curl up under the quilt he gave you. And of course it smells like him. You can’t help but breath the scent in deep as you drift off to sleep.

A/n: !!!! I’m so happy so many of you enjoyed part 1! I really hope part 2 lives up to any expectations you guys have! Thank you so so so much for all the kind words and love you’ve shown my little story!

Tagging a few of you that showed interest: @toxicanonymity @lumoverheaven @neverwheremoonchild @bonezone44 @cool-iguana @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @ennema @pr0ximamidnight @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @outfirewithgasoline @walkintotheriveranddisappear @axshadows @oldenoughtoknowbetterstuff let me know if you don’t want tagged(:

#pedro pascal #part 2 #the cabin in the woods #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x female reader #dave york smut #proud member of the Dave York pit #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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