#BEAUTIFUL SAD MAN LET ME HOLD YOU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckyalpine · 2 days ago

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His Winter Flower

Modern Beauty and the Beast AU Winter soldier x f reader

Long awaited, I hope you all enjoy it as well.

Word count: 8.9k

Warnings: 18 + Angst, injuries, Fluff, All the sweet smut, Bucky is a sweetheart

"оставаться внизу" [Stay down] The soldier ordered, holding his gun to the targets forehead, his metal finger twitching against the trigger while the man cowered in front of him.

"Please" The man tried to plead but it was no use. He knew his fate was sealed the second he heard the thud of the boots entering his home. The whirring of metal. The ghost people spoke of but never saw until it was too late.

"тишина" [Silence] The soldiers rough voice growled behind the mask that covered his face. He pressed the barrel further into the man's head, freezing when he heard the soft patter of footsteps nearing the office he had broken into.

"Papa?" A soft voice called, the scent of roses and vanilla accompanying it, "Papa, where are y-

You gasped as you entered your father's study, your heart dropping to your stomach seeing him kneeling on the floor with his hands tied while the soldier towered above him.

So the rumors were true.

The silver of his arm was illuminated in the moonlight, the rest of him covered in Kevlar and black leather. Weapons were strapped to every bit of his body but the only one that worried you now was the one that was about to take your father's life.

"Don't hurt him!" It was a futile attempt to save your father, you knew this enough. The Winter Soldier didn't spare anyone, in fact for the longest time you wondered if he was nothing more than an urban legend. No one had actually seen him. Those that did didn't live to speak the tale. The soldier grunted in response, hardly sparing you a glance as he stared at the man before him.

A professor. A brilliant man. One who was quietly working with a group of researchers aiming to destroy the the longtime work of Arnim Zola from so many years ago. No more serums. No more soldiers.

Hydra wouldn't have that.

Not when those very serums created their best asset, the Winter Soldier himself.

"Он моя миссия" [He is my mission] Was the only response you were given. You didn't understand the words he said but it didn't matter; it was quite clear. He didn't intend on sparing the professor.

"Darling, please go, it's okay" Your father shook his head, ready to accept the consequences of his choices. He hoped to aid in the movement of making the world safer and if this was his end, he was prepared to meet it. Tears welled in his eyes with a sad smile on his face, "It'll be alright, go, hurry-

"No, please!" You pleaded with the soldier once again, all you could see were his blue eyes, void of emotion, cold and icy. "If-if you kill him, someone will take his place and then another. My father will no longer help with the government if you spare him and take me. Please just take me instead, it will put an end to all this. Please"

If you kill him, someone will take his place

The words rang through the soldiers mind.

It shouldn't be a problem. He'd killed plenty of people before but...

Then it would be another mission to carry.

And then another.

Another.

The innocent man trapped in his brain screamed to stop. A voice long forgotten, begging him to reconsider. To fight against the words that were causing him to do this. The solider flinched, fighting within himself, contemplating his next actions. The mission was to ensure Arnim Zola's work wouldn't be eradicated. The girl was offering herself to ensure the same work wouldn't continue. He wouldn't have more blood on his hands if he allowed the professor to live.

He shouldn't have cared but a part of him did.

He didn't want to kill another innocent man.

He never wanted to kill anyone.

Your father let out a sigh of relief feeling the weight of the gun pull away, only to have his greatest fear come alive; losing you.

"NO, darling you don't know what you're doing, I'll be fine-

It was too late. The soldier cut through the ropes that bound your father's wrists, taking you instead. Before your father could reach for you, the soldier grabbed and hauled you over his shoulder and strode away, ignoring the plea of the professor to spare his only daughter.

His mind was made up.

She was not his mission but now he had a new one.

If he killed the man, another would take his place.

He was risking repercussions listening to the trapped soul only his mind could hear.

He shouldn't have listened to her words.

He shouldn't have let the professor go.

Yet he agreed.

The gait of the soldier lulled you into a dreamless sleep; exhaustion consumed you as he wandered through a thicket of trees and into the woods far from home. You hadn't spoken a word nor let out a cry as he carried you off, after all, you agreed to be his prisoner as long as you father lived.

He brought you to a place he knew no one would find.

A place no one else knew of.

A place that was now his own.

He was once sent to take the life of a wealthy aristocrat, a man who had no one to leave his estate to. The place was deep in a forest, away from most of humanity; even when Hydra had sent him to finish the man, they were unable to give him a location. The soldier had located the target himself only to find the man had already passed from old age.

No questions were asked.

The mission was considered complete.

The body was disposed of and for quite some time, the soldier thought nothing of the castle like place that no one else knew of. It was a secret only he knew and he soon found himself seeking its solitude. A resting place between missions. A place to patch up. A place to hide when his mind was too loud, trying to escape from clutches he didn't understand.

It was the closest place he had to freedom.

The soldier pushed through the heavy wooden doors, entering the dark oak foyer. He stilled, torn between taking you down to the cellar or taking you to the rooms up in the master wing.

How could he chain something so soft.

How could he imprison something so delicate.

His feet began to move towards the large staircase before his mind could process anything, shifting to carry you in his arms as he made his way up to the west wing. He set you down gently onto the large bed with the soft sheets, careful not to stir you. He stared at your sleeping form, unmoving from his place as you softly snored, the choices of his actions beginning to plague his mind.

What was he to do with you now. Why hadn't he gotten rid of you.

He knew the rules; once his job was done, he was to return to the base but he hadn't completed the mission. He had been away for weeks and the longer he was away, the louder the screaming was. The voice of a young sergeant who fought bravely in the war. The pleading young man, scared like a child, trapped in the body of a killing machine. The cries of a little boy trying so hard to runaway from monsters that haunted him every single night. All trapped and begging to escape.

He'd let the professor live.

It was wrong of him.

He disobeyed his orders.

Or perhaps it was the right thing to do.

Though the soldier had been brainwashed, there were times he found himself caught in-between a state of control and chaos. His duties were to Hydra. He knew this was wrong. You shouldn't be here. His task was to continue their vision. He was their asset. He belonged to them.

His tourmiol continued. Why did he spare the professor. Why did he bring the girl and set her down on the softest bed out of all the rooms when he should have chained her in a cell. Exhaustion began to weigh on him but he didn't close his eyes. He didn't allow sleep to consume him. The soldier remained in place even as the sun rose. He watched as you stirred, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains, falling onto your face.

You blinked, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a fearful gasp escaping your lips when you saw him sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. A thousand thoughts began to run through your mind at once as you sat up, a part of you surprised to find your hands and legs free from binds. You were atop a plush mattress on a large bed, the room itself surprisingly warm and quaint. Had you not been in a state of terror, you would have taken some time to appreciate the olive green walls and fine paintings that decorated the space as well as the well kept antique furniture.

"Please don't hurt me" You whispered, still disoriented from the night before.

"я не буду" [I won't] He replied, aware you didn't understand him. His lips twitched, all the words of English he wanted to speak dying in his mouth. His mind wouldn't allow it.

It wasn't required for this mission.

You stayed frozen in place while he said nothing else, walking off and closing the door behind him. Tears welled in your eyes as dread began to set in. This was your life now. He could kill you at any moment without warning. In fact, you didn't understand why he hadn't. From the rumours, you knew the soldier never took prisoners. You didn't know why you were spared; the only sliver of joy you had was that your father was alive. You thought about your him as you gathered yourself out of bed, deciding to make the best of your circumstances with the faintest hope that one day you'd be reunited with him again.

You inspected the room the soldier had put you in. There was a vanity across the bed. A walk in closet that only contained a few old sheets. You gasped as you entered the en suite bathroom, white marble tiles covering the floor, a large clawfoot tub, brass and gold accents decorated the handles of the cupboards.

The room was enchanting.

After splashing some water onto your face, you crept into the hallway, padding down to the staircase, surprised again at the beauty of the place. High ceilings. Dark wood. Crystal albeit dusty chandeliers. French doors. Original paintings. It was the type of place you'd imagine when you read fairytales. It would have been the type of place you'd dream to live in; one you'd only imagine in your wildest fantasies where the princess finds her prince. Such stories were only found in books.

You quietly explored the main floor of the mansion and avoiding the rooms which were locked shut. You didn't dare touch a thing, quickly retreating back to your room once you'd seen everything, familiarizing yourself with it's layout. The kitchen. A study. A living room. The hauntinly beautiful hallways. A door to the grounds in the back. You hadn't seen the soldier which both relieved and scared you.

Where did he disappear to?

That night, there was a knock at your door and when you opened it, a plate of warm food was left on a tray. Boiled carrots. Potatoes. A dinner roll. You hadn't even heard his footsteps down the hall. As you peered out of your room, it was empty without the slightest hint that anyone had been there seconds ago.

Where had he gone?

You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you took the first bite, scarfing down the rest in haste, placing the tray back in the hall. The next day was the same. You woke up to find a simple spread of breakfast outside of your room; toast and jam.

The soldier was a man of his word; if you were to be his captive, he had to keep you alive.

At least until he knew what to do with you...

Days had passed and you'd managed to avoid him, keeping to yourself and staying out of his way but you weren't able to avoid him forever.

The soldier had already heard you coming, pausing his cleaning as he waited for you to enter. The sight of your trembling form evoked something inside him.

You were scared. He didn't like it.

His mask remained on his face while his blue eyes peered at you, waiting for you to speak.

"I-I need clothes" Your voice was hardly a whisper, body shaking as you approached him, finding him in the study room, parts of his gun in hand. There was nothing wrong with the simple cotton dress you had on though it certainly wasn't comfortable to sleep in every night and you weren't able to wash and it dry within the same day. You needed at least one other set of something to wear. "Please"

He nodded without a word, resuming his cleaning while you retreated to your room. His brows furrowed as he thought about what you'd need. Perhaps it would be easier to return you and finish off the professor or get rid of you both-

No.

He didn't want more blood on his hands.

The foods he stole were already a risk....where would he go for clothes?

The next morning, you found a fresh set of clothes left beside your tray of breakfast. You lifted the pile and brought it to your room, munching on the toast that had come with honey instead of jam for a change.

There was a red Henley and some sweatpants. A black t shirt and joggers. A few other basics for you to wear comfortably around the house. You couldn't help but giggle at the very large leather jacket he'd also left in case you felt cold even though there were already plenty of warm blankets. They were very clearly his own clothes but they were all washed and perfectly clean. You couldn't expect him to go shopping for you.

You threw off your dress, taking a long bath before drying off and slipping on the Henley and sweats. They were warm and soft, fitting loosely on your smaller frame, his soft scent of something distinctly him clinging onto the material. It was strange that it didn't bother you. Quite the opposite. It was pleasant, almost comforting.

You wondered about the man behind the mask and who he was. Such a dangerous man who was giving you the clothes off his back, feeding you and keeping you alive even though he'd killed hundreds of others. He was dangerous and yet he looked at you with such softness, you couldn't understand how he'd be capable of hurting anyone.

What was his story?

He hadn't chained you to the bed.

He hadn't locked you in your room.

You were free to go about where you liked.

Surely he wasn't all evil?

As you grew more accustomed to your living arrangement, you decided to inspect more of the kitchen. You hadn't been told you couldn't cook; even if the soldier didn't kill you, boredom eventually would. You needed something to pass the time and he had disappeared yet again.

You opened the fridge and pantries surprised to find a few fruits and vegetables stocked up. An untouched sack of flour and bag of sugar sat at the bottom of the shelves. Who knew the winter soldier enjoyed plums so much? There were a few pots and pans as well as basic kitchen utensils. You didn't need much to make a simple meal, careful not to make a mess as you began to peel some carrots.

The soldier blinked as he entered the house, the smell of food wafting throughout, a smell he hadn't come across in a long time.

Home.

There was a pot of stew left on the stove along with a pie left to cool on the counter. His eyes widened at the way his stomach grumbled; it had been years since he'd truly felt hunger. He ate for sustenance. Raw, uncooked, at most boiled food to keep him going. When he was with Hydra, he was fed with a tube.

Just basic nutrients to keep him alive.

He hadn't had a home cooked meal in years.

You woke up the next morning to find a pastry at your door instead of toast. When you wandered into the kitchen, you smiled at the tiny crumbs left pie tin and the now empty pot of stew. There were also newly stocked ingredients waiting for you; berries, potatoes, somehow even a whole chicken. You got to work, deciding to try something new each time; each night a warm meal awaited the soldier along with something sweet at the end.

He continued to bring you breakfast but there were only so many different pastries and cakes he could nick, besides they didn't compare to yours.

It wasn't enough. The soldier frowned at the strange feelings he had within himself.

He wanted to do something for you.

He wasn't sure what. He smuggled a handful of cookies you'd baked that morning into his room before removing his mask and savoring each once. He didn't leave a crumb behind, licking the remnants of chocolate off his lips while his mind wandered. You didn't have to cook for him. In fact you had every right to try and escape from him but you never did. He recalled the number of bookshelves that lined your home, after all he'd taken note of every detail as part of his mission.

You liked to read.

You sat up when you heard a knock at your door, the soldier waiting on the other side. He looked at you with a softness you hadn't seen previously, turning around and walking down the hall, hoping you'd follow him.

You stayed a few feet behind, trailing after him as he led you to the living room, leading you to the large bookshelf. He wordlessly stood by it, the strange sensation of nervousness and anxiety bubbling within him when you looked at what he wanted to show you.

Would you like it? You looked so unsure, scared. Perhaps you wanted to be free, you wanted to leave, you-

"M-May I?"

He blinked hearing your voice, nodding, watching your eyes light up as you scanned the various book titles. Gasps of joy and little squeals of delight escaped your lips as you came across stories you adored.

That wasn't the only thing that made his heart beat faster. Seeing you in his clothes stirred something in him. You were dressed in his red Henley, the hem reaching mid thigh. He was pulled away from admiring you as you squeaked, seeing one of your favorite books from when you were a little girl, a first edition no less.

"How did you get all these" You were in absolute awe, lost in your own world while he pondered how he came to own such treasures. Perhaps he was always a soldier gone rogue. His missions came with a side of thievery when he'd see something that would catch his eye. Something that would spark a memory of sorts, such as an old book he'd seen as he passed an vintage bookstore. Soon, the shelves of the mansion were filled with books and trinkets he'd collected. A part of his brain would nearly break itself to try and connect to the things he'd collect, only for the memories to fail to fall into place.

His mind felt like a pile of shreds from different cloths; pieces that would never fit together again. His little treasures were the closest he'd ever get to remembering, a few sparks from the past that would forever be disconnected.

Ever since the soldier had shown you the shelves of books, you'd left your room more often, spending more time reading after cooking. In a strange way you also began to trust the very masked man who had taken you away. You didn't worry about him hurting you. You no longer worried about running into him. He hardly spoke, nothing more than a few words of Russian. He hadn't demanded you stay locked in your room, so why did you?

You picked up one of your favorite books, deciding to read outside in the garden, in need of some fresh air. You hadn't taken much time to look at the outside of the house, pausing as you opened the doors that entered the grounds. It was strangely beautiful, especially considering the assassin who resided in it. For such a dark soul, nature still continued to flourish around it. Tall, overgrown hedge fences surrounded the backyard while weeping willows and bushes of flowers shaded the stone paths that led to a fountain in the very center. You found a comfortable spot under the tree, settling onto the cool grass, the scent of spring calming you as you turned to the first page.

The soldier trudged through the doorway, surprised at the way his appetite had grown since you'd started cooking. His body which was used to sustaining itself on the bare minimum now rumbled through the day. He'd find his mind wandering to your pies and craving the comfort of the soup you'd make. The food was set in the kitchen but you were nowhere to be found. He walked past your room, knocking on the door, only to be met with silence.

Where did you go? Did you run away?

He knew something was wrong when he felt his heart sink because he couldn't find you. He couldn't remember the last time his heart felt anything other than emptiness. It was more than just you escaping.

He was worried about you.

He took longer strides as he searched for you with purpose, fingers already itching to reach towards his gun, deciding to first check the grounds in the back. His heart settled when he saw the doors to the garden left ajar, finding you nestled in the shade, curled up in the grass with a book.

You were safe. You hadn't run away.

Again he was left stunned and unable to move. You were the final piece in the puzzle of the garden; you fit there like the perfect flower. He'd seen the garden 100 times before and it had never looked so beautiful.

Not until now.

Roses and daisies grew in abundance but you were the prettiest thing there. You were meant to be there; a soft, delicate, flower.

"цветок"

You set down the book you were reading, looking up to see the soldier peering down at you. You hadn't heard him coming as he appeared before you with the silence of a ghost.

"цветок" He repeated, gazing at you before looking towards a daisy. He kneeled, plucking one and handing it to you, "цветок. мягкий, как ты" [Flower. Soft, like you]. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you intently, blinking with an innocence you hadn't seen before. He looked almost...shy?

"Thank you" You whispered, stroking the petal of the flower he gave you. You didn't understand why you longed for him to stay as he went back inside, your curiosity about him growing with each passing day.

It went on like this.

Most days, you would spend your time exploring the trinkets the soldier collected, staying out of his way while he disappeared into the forest to do things you didn't pry into. Each night you knew he would return, hearing the heavy creak of the doors open during the darkest hours. You'd hear the quiet sound of clinking cutlery and then the soft sound of his bedroom door shut.

Except tonight.

You set down your book hearing the sound of heavy boots dragging down the hall, quite different from the silence the soldier usually moved with. A sense of dread washed over you as you debated on staying put, something telling you to lock the door, hide, something-

"What do we have here" The click of your door opening sent shivers down your spine, your blood running cold as a man strode in, a metal mask covering his face showing nothing but his eyes. You wanted to scream but your voice was stuck in your throat, you felt safe with the soldier, this man was not the same, he lunged towards you, knife in hand, the blade swiping towards your neck, "The soldiers little pet"-

"DON'T TOUCH HER" A growl shook the window as you hugged your knees to yourself waiting for the knife to plunge but it never came. You gasped as the man was ripped away, the flash of silver gleaming as the soldier grabbed him and hauled him away, shutting the door behind him.

"You're weak. You were supposed to kill him"

"So this is what's been keeping you"

"Kill her and come back to us. That's an order"

"Rumlow-

"Kill her. They're nothing more than collateral damage, end them, желание-

You didn't dare move, tears spilling down your cheeks as you heard the sounds of a struggle growing further and further away, eventually melting into silence.

He saved you.

You heard him return, still frozen in fear but the sound of a pained whimper pulled you out of bed. You peered into the hall, eyes widening in horror seeing a trail of blood staining the floors leading to his room, streaks of crimson smeared onto the wall. You didn't think twice as you dashed out of your room to his, your body moving faster than your mind could comprehend as you let yourself in.

Your heart continued to race seeing the blood lead to the washroom where he stood with a needle in hand, beginning to sew a gash on his side across his ribs. His bloodied tactical gear was thrown on the floor though his mask still remained hoping to silence himself as he attempted to take care of himself.

He hissed in pain, piercing his skin while his head began to spin, multiple wounds needing attention, the blood loss starting to take its toll.

"Let me" you hesitated to touch him, going against your better judgement when you wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand away. The soldier shook his head, fighting the way his body craved for something more gentle, more caring, more loving than the jagged and painful stitches he was giving himself.

"I won't hurt you, soldat" you looked in his eyes with such sincerity, for a moment he thought he'd ask you to be his girl.

Such a doll...

One he'd take dancing...

Call you darlin' with that Brooklyn drawl...

He blinked at the fleeting memory, a whimper escaping his lips when you dabbed his gash with an alcohol soaked cotton ball. You blew across the cut to soothe the pain before taking the needle and carefully stitching him up with a feather light touch.

"There" You whispered after taking care of the awful injuries that littered his body, leading out of the bathroom to lie down so he could rest. You didn't dare ask what had happened as you looked around the room; though there was a large bed with the softest sheets and finest materials but the makeshift pallet on the floor was clearly where he chose to sleep at night. He collapsed from exhaustion, falling into a deep sleep while you remained by his side.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest, occasionally glancing over the dressings you'd put to see if blood had seeped through. You couldn't bring yourself to leave him alone, only getting up to see if you could find a sheet to drape cover yourself with in the cold room. As you removed the blanket that covered the bed, something caught your eye in the mostly untouched room.

A wooden box, carefully tucked away in the furthest corner of the room. There wasn't any dust on it, compared to the other pieces of furniture that were never used. It was something he very clearly wanted to keep a secret. His other treasures that were out in the open on the shelf were different from this.

Even the soldier had secrets.

Your curiosity got the best of you as you made your way to the corner, lifting the box as silently as you could so you didn't wake him, inspecting its contents.

Newspaper articles, some decades old.

Old photographs.

One of a young man.

The eyes.

Those blue eyes you'd become so familiar with.

James Buchanan Barnes.

A brave soldier who fought in the war. A young man, no, a boy, drafted to war, his life ripped away from him, leaving him for dead in an icy forest. You blinked back tears at the innocence the young Sergeants eyes held, bright and heroic, hoping to help in a fight that wasn't his. Scribbles on scrap pieces of paper read "I am James Buchanan Barnes" repeatedly.

Your could feel your heart break into tiny little fragments as you pieced together what happened to the boy from Brooklyn, he had his whole life ahead of him but-

A pained scream tore from his lungs, his eyes squeezed shut as you knelt by his side again, brows furrowed together. You looked over his injuries, everything was still in place but he sounded like he was being tortured. He tossed around, his screams melting into sobs, pleading for someone to stop.

"James?" You hesitated to use his real name, your hushed voice made him flinch in his sleep but it wasn't enough to pull him as he begged for the painto end. He didn't want to lose his memories again. He wanted to remember. Please?

"You're alright James" You cooed softly, running your fingers through his locks while tears continued to stream down his face, lost in a nightmare. "You're not alone"

You were careful not to scared him awake, your gentle ministrations soothing him, his cries coming to a stop. You wiped away the remnants of tears that fell against his cheek, some slipping beneath the mask he refused to remove. You didn't have in you to take it off, not without asking him first. His soft snores filled the room once again as the sun began to rise.

He stirred feeling a strange warmth surrounding his body blinking in confusion when he found soft sheets draped over him. The usual sting he'd feel after stitching himself up was nearly non existent. He ran his fingers along the gash, the neat little sutures still in place, covered with a bandage to protect the area. Bits and pieces of the night came to him in waves.

Running into his captors. Evading them. Escaping. The bloodshed. The weapons. The injuries. The pain.

However, there was also softness. Such tenderness. The touch of an angel he'd only be able to imagine in his wildest dreams that would never come true. Not for someone like him. Such sweetness. God, he'd missed it. He missed what such love and care felt like. It was so foreign to him. He was so used to the cold. Razor sharp, jagged edges. He'd forgotten so many things but the longer he kept to himself, the more that came back to him.

You called him by his name. He was sure of it. In the muddled fog of nightmares, he was sure he heard an angel call.

He knew he was in no condition to move or get you breakfast but the delicious smell of your cooking wafted through the halls letting him know it was okay for him to rest. He closed his eyes, flinching at the few prickles of pain he felt in his head.

You were there.

You'd take care of him.

He couldn't remember everything just yet but surely the puzzle pieces would fall into place soon.

"NO" The sound of the soldiers pained cry made you drop the book you were reading in your room, running off to find him. He'd fallen asleep after eating what you made for him that evening; you were sure he was getting better. He knelt on the floor, sweat covering his body as he gripped his hair, pulling from the roots. He felt another sharp piercing pain in his head, fleeting memories of things he didn't understand all flooding back at once.

You rushed to his side, taking his hands into yours to keep him from hurting himself. His eyes shot up, tears threatening to spill over, all the things he thought were lost forever coming back together.

He was a Sergeant.

A soldier.

A young man.

One who loved to go dancing.

One who wanted to help others.

Hydra turned him into a beast but you brought him back.

There was always something about you.

His sweet flower.

He relaxed feeling your soft fingers trace against his palms in hopes of grounding him, giving both his flesh and metal hands equal affection. He gently pulled his right hand away to remove the mask, letting you see all of him.

"Soldat?" You whispered, hesitantly brining your hand up to his scruffy cheek. He pressed his hand against yours, leaning into the warmth of your touch, he never wanted it to end.

"цветок" [flower] he whispered back, your eyes widening hearing the precious name he had just for you, "It's me, flower"

"James?" You knew it was no longer the soldier speaking, this was the little boy from Brooklyn, his piercing blue eyes now full of warmth and light.

"Your father, I have to take you home, flower I'm so sorry-" dread began to consume him as he realized how long he'd taken you for, trading one life for another, how could he-

"James, breathe" You held his face in your hands, wiping away the tears that began to fall, your hand coming down the rest against his erratic heart, "It wasn't your fault, I-I read what happened to you, you were taken, it was never you, you're a good person" You soothed his aching heart but it didn't ease how heavy it felt. Every part of him wanted to beg for you to run away, so far away from him so you could be home again yet his arms moved on their own, wrapping you up and holding you close, you fit so perfectly with him.

"I'm still a broken man, цветок" Bucky whispered with a sad smile, holding you with such care as you curled up in his lap. "I don't think I deserve to hold something as sweet as you"

"You're not broken, you deserve this and more" You cooed, inhaling his soft scent, your nose brushing against the column of his neck.

"You took care of me, flower" Bucky held you tighter, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, feeling safe for the first time in years, home had never felt closer.

"And you took care of me" Your fingers moved to card through his hair, pulling his face away so he'd look at you.

"I took you with me, doll" He couldn't shake the fact that he'd taken you from your father, first intending to kill him and then taking you in his place. "I didn't give you a choice, you should be home" The guilt ate him from the inside, if he'd been himself, he would have never-

"And you still protected me with your life" You whispered, your forehead resting against his.

"And I always will" Bucky promised, his lips brushing against yours. He meant it from the bottom of his soul, he'd always protect you no matter where you were. It didn't matter that he didn't want you to leave, that he wished you could stay, he knew you belonged elsewhere. He'd still always make sure you were safe. Exhaustion began to pull at him, his eyes growing heavy as his body continued to fight what Hydra wanted him to do and the man he really was.

"Sleep, Jamie" You pulled him down to lay on your chest, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and for the first time in years, he slept soundly without a nightmare.

Over the next few days, you continued to nurse the soldier back to health, hushing him each time he plead for you to go, insisting he'd be okay to manage on his own.

"My body will heal, I promise, you don't have to do all this for me, let me take you home-

"Once you're all better. I'll write to him so he knows I'm safe" You pressed a finger to his pink lips before going back to tucking him in bed. It was true that the cuts had all cleared up exceptionally quicker than normal but you could see the mental exhaustion that plagued him each day.

He found a way to get in touch with your father without alerting anyone in Hydra from finding him and while your father graciously forgave him with understanding, nothing felt easier. He promised to return you home as soon as it was safe but the longer he spent with you, the more he selfishly wished for it to last forever. He promised your father he'd take care of you in every way possible but he knew it was truly you taking care of him.

He'd sleep soundly when you were near, falling asleep quickly when you'd read to him, sometimes softly playing with his hair so he'd relax. The few times he'd been alone, the awful memories would come flooding back leaving him confused and disoriented. It broke your heart hearing him cry, the soldier who was nothing but a killing machine truly an innocent man on the inside, a prisoner of his own mind.

You'd comfort him every single time, every moment more intimate than the next. It started with your soothing voice, sitting by his bed where you'd call his name, your fingers caressing the scruff of his beard, wiping away his tears. Then the nights came where you crawled into bed with him, helping him fall asleep with his head on your lap only to wake up with your limbs tangled together.

Then he started to hold you before he was asleep. He held you tightly while telling you stories about things he could remember. Things that made him smile. That his nickname was Bucky. You would do the same. You told him about all the things your father taught you. He'd start to kiss you goodnight. Innocently with a peck to the top of your head.

Sometimes your cheek.

He so badly wanted to kiss your lips, stopping himself when he felt his stomach stir, especially when your sweet doe eyes looked up at him. When he cuddled you, his arms would wrap around your body, his hands finding their way to the hem of the Henley you wore. His henley. His fingers would slip up to feel your skin, knowing such an angel was real grounded him. You'd do the same, tracing over his scars, neither of you openly talking about the growing tension between you both each day.

"Will you read to me?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder while you stirred some honey into the tea you were making. You giggled at his needy cuddles, his much larger form practically engulfing you from behind. "Please"

"Who'd have thought such a strong, scary soldier would want bedtime stories" you cooed, letting him carry you away to his room, making a stop at the bookshelf first to pick out a new story.

He settled against the headboard with you tucked in his lap, relaxing at you made yourself comfy between his thighs. Your words had an affect on him he couldn't describe, no longer paying attention to what you were saying and instead watching the movement of your lips. Your eyes darting across the pages. Your body pressed against his.

The butterflies started again.

His stomach stirred.

He tried to adjust himself, pulling you into a hug to calm himself down, ignoring the way he wished he could have more.

"You alright, Jamie?" you asked, feeling his squirming, his eyes growing wide as if he'd been caught red handed. He shook his head, insisting you continue reading, God he didn't know what to do with himself.

He fidgeted again, this time trying to keep you off the tightness growing more and more, you made it so difficult for him-

"Are you sure you're okay bub?"

"I don't remember much but-I-I know I want you closer, flower" His voice was shy, his adams apple nervously bobbing in his neck as he shifted, unable to hide the hardness between his legs. His mind was a mess, fragments of love and intimacy struggling to piece themselves together yet he knew enough to want to hold you close.

He wanted to feel your soft skin on his.

He wanted to kiss you in places that would make your cheeks warm.

Where you'd want to cover yourself but let him have you, just him.

He wanted to feel your hands touch him everywhere. He wouldn't flinch at your delicate ministrations, he'd give all of himself to you. He'd trust you in his most vulnerable state, feeling things he hadn't for years, so heavy between his legs.

"How much closer, Jamie" you couldn't meet his eyes, gripping onto his t-shirt instead, setting the book on the nightstand, now all your attention on him.

"You know, angel" He let his nose bury into your hair, the blush on his cheeks travelling to his neck. He couldn't bring himself to actually say what he wanted, hesitantly moving his hands to your hips instead, slipping up your shirt to hold your waist. "Can-can I kiss you?"

He could hardly recognize himself, nervous beyond comprehension, his heart racing when you nodded, cupping his cheek to look at you. He leaned down to press his lips to yours.

"More" You let your body melt into his, his tongue lacing with yours, deepening the kiss. He didn't pull away until he desperately needed air, no longer able to contain his arousal.

"M'sorry angel, s'been so long, my body's not the same-

"Don't. Don't you dare, I adore you just like this Sergeant" He sucked in a breath as you toyed with the hem of his shirt, nodding after a moment letting you take it off. You kissed every scar on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder where metal met flesh, "You're the most handsome, beautiful man," You kissed his neck making him hiss, your tummy jumping at the feeling of his erection now pressed right against you, "You deserve all of this"

"Can I see you, please?" He undressed you with such care as if he was unwrapping the most precious present, first laying you down before slipping your top off. You wordlessly undressed each other until there was nothing left to take off going right back to wrapping your body with his.

"You're the softest thing I've ever touched" He whispered, loving how you felt, your thigh hitched over his hip, your breasts pressed against his bare chest, your soft tummy against the hard planes of his abs, your hands rubbing up and down his spine, oh God your silky most sacred parts absolutely soaking his length. His body moved on its own, rutting up to chase more, his cock slotting so perfectly with his flushed tip rubbing against your clit.

The desperate moan he let out made you gush, seeing how lost he was in chasing how good you felt with the stutter of his hips.

"M'so hard" He whined, hugging you tightly, "Please angel, do something" It was the most delicious torture. You pulled away from his hold wanting to give him every bit of loving he deserved, giving his body the pleasure it had been deprived of. You shuffled to kneel between his legs, his eyes growing wide, your face so dangerously close to where he was achingly hard. There was no way, you weren't going to- your lips pressed a gently kiss to his frenulum and the tears started, you wouldn't give him more than this-

"Baby, oh God, no, no, I can't angel, oh God-OHH" He cried, his body splayed wide for you, bach arching off the bed as you took his swollen cockhead into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his circles, licking every bit of his essence that dripped out. Your face was between his legs, his cock was in your mouth, you were suckling off his most sensitive parts, how could he not spread his thighs apart further for you. He'd never been so open or vulnerable, letting you play and toy with his cock, his tears soaking the pillow at his balls started to pull towards his body, it couldn't be over so soon-

"Sweet baby, please, please-" He pulled you off his cock, bringing you up to smash his lips against yours, his thick length slapping against his tummy. He could have sworn he was close to cumming just tasting himself on your tongue. "Can-please I want to-" He scrambled to lay you against the pillows as you squeaked at the way he manhandled you in desperation, "please"

He was between your thighs, sighing with heart eyes as he carefully spread your folds with his fingers, taking his time smearing around your slick, your throbbing clit begging for his mouth. He latched on like a baby, nursing with the most needy gurgles, your gasp melting into a moan making his eyes roll back.

He couldn't believe he had his mouth on his pretty angel, his tongue toying with the precious parts between her legs, letting him taste her, drinking up her nectar, feeding him in the best way possible.

"I-oh-slow down baby, please, M'gonna- You gasped, feeling surges of pleasure already pulsing as he flicked his tongue with precision, his arms wrapping around your thighs, tossing them over his wide shoulders.

"Mph, cum" he whined before diving in for more, greedily humping and grinding against the mattress, how was he supposed to last like this.

"Want-want to feel you, please" You begged, needing him inside you, giving you something thick and hard to cum on. He didn't waste a second, shakily clambering back on top of you, nervously positioning himself at your entrance.

"You sure, sweet girl? I-it's been so long"

"I trust you" You pulled him down to kiss his reddened nose making him blush, letting out the breath he was holding as he started to push. You both moaned together as he buried himself all the way, stilling once he was flush against you, his orgasm already so close to shooting at the base of his cock.

"Hng, I needed this angel" He didn't move and you didn't need him to, just the feeling of him stretching and filling you fulfilling something you couldn't describe. You loved the feeling of you both being connected in the most intimate way, joined as one, it felt so right like he was finally where he was meant to be. Like he'd found his everything.

Your thighs moved to hug his waist, your arms around his shoulders. He drew his hips back and thrusted forward gentle, the gasp escaping your lips urging him to keep going. He started to move at a steady pace, bringing his hands to lace with yours, pinning them against the bed.

"I love you-even if I have no right, I love you so much" Bucky lost himself to you, his hips moving at a slow grind, letting every inch of his cock fill and caress your walls, "You showed me love when I least deserved it"

"Fuck, I love you too!" You cried out, the curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, sending you higher and higher. "Oh, James!"

"My God, the way you say my name when m'inside you, say it again baby, please" He started to move faster on his own accord, primal urges starting to take over as he began to chase his pleasure and yours.

"Please, James, feels-feels so good"

"Gonna make me cum so hard, the things y'do to me baby, drives me crazy, wanna be like this for the rest of my life, making love to you and nothing else, swear this is all I want"

"James, gonna-gonna cum"

"Cum with me angel, all over my cock baby, cum on it, wanna feel it, please give it to me, I need it. Need your sweet cream all over me, fuck-yeah-jus like that-" You clenched around his cunt, his name dripping from your lips as your orgasm crashed over you. That was all it took as he tucked his face right against your neck, holding you tight as he trembled, it was so much,

"M'cumming!!" His sob was muffled as his cock throbbed, warm streams of his cum pumping you full, his ass stuttering with each jerk of his hips. "So-so much for you, s'all for you angel"

Bucky made love to you everywhere, not one place left without him taking you apart to his heart's content, including the garden. The story you were reading was long forgotten as he took you under the shade of the tree, the long wispy branches of the willow tree hiding you from the rest of the world.

The summer sun cocooned you in a blanket of warmth as clothes were all tossed aside leaving you both bare on the sheet you'd spread on the grass, the sounds of the breeze, the rustle of the bushes and your moans blending in so perfectly with his rhythmic thrusts.

"Beautiful" he whispered against your cheek, pulling away so he could look at every bit of you, "So beautiful for me like this"

"Jamie, stop" You grew bashful, you knew no one could see you in your secluded spot so deep in the forest but you still felt so vulnerable, spread out naked with just his body covering you, shamelessly taking his cock while the afternoon sun hung in the sky.

"S'just us baby, just you and me, don't worry" He purred, bringing your arms up, holding your wrists in his metal arm while his flesh hand came down to caress your face. "We're not doing anything wrong darling, m'showing you how much I love you, how good you make me feel, yeah?"

"Yeaah" Your voice melted into a breathy whine as he started to move with more purpose, his warm breath fanning against your face.

"Lookit how pretty you are sweet girl, my pretty flower, you were meant to be here baby, feels so right, just like this"

Out of all the stories and poetry you'd read to him, this was what Bucky saw as true art. He'd seen the finest paintings around the world in the richest houses, guarded by the highest security. He'd seen nature's most incredible wonders with the tallest trees, the sweetest flora and nothing, absolutely nothing, would top how gorgeous you were, bare, on the grass, him filling you up, it was euproic.

The image was etched in his brain, he'd treasure it forever. Your shy moans. The clench of your cunt. The way he filled you up and kept his cock in you even after it was soft. The way you cuddled and kissed in a post sex haze, listening to the sounds of the forest. He could have cried at the way you fell asleep in his arms, so trusting for him to keep you safe.

This was all he needed.

He took care of you, keeping you protected while he did his best to eradicate Hydra with you to patch him up each time he came home. As soon as it was safe, he took you right home and under the care of your father, he healed from the words that held him captive.

It didn't take long for your home to be filled with the sounds of tiny feet mixed with the sounds of science experiments gone wrong; your little babies, their daddy and their papa getting up to mischief at all hours.

"Careful, flower" Bucky shook his head, running towards you as you waddled into the living room with an expression of concern on your face, cocking an eyebrow when you saw your son looking up at you with bug eyed goggles matching his papa.

Bucky came to steady you, his hands coming to wrap around your growing belly while your father and son continued to tinker away at a new creation.

"How are my princesses" He cooed while you huffed, still wondering what they were doing.

"We're both wondering what you're going here James"

"Papa's building me a rocket-

"A bicycle! Just a bicycle darling, go sit, son why don't you take her for a walk" You father ushered you and Bucky out, sending a wink to his grandson.

"A bicycle my foot" You shook your head while Bucky took you to the kitchen, setting a pot of water, ready to dote on you as usual.

"He gets that side of him from you, love" Bucky chuckled, coming down to kiss your belly, resting his head there. "Just wait until she's here too"

"You're a menace, Sergeant"

"You married me, darling" Bucky pouted making you giggle, cupping his face to kiss his jutting lips.

"and I love every bit of you"

"I love you more, pretty girl"

You would always be his flower.

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yup-thats-me · 6 months ago

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"let's see kids who can hug mamma the first!" Your husband told or rather commanded your twin boys as the three came back from their grocery run.

Your two sons giggled as they ran towards the house and the thirty-something-old kid (your husband) too ran with them. The only visible difference being was that he was taller and was carrying three to four bags with him. He, same as his kids, had that stupid little smile on his face.

When the door barged in and her kids ran to your side, Y/n couldn't help the smile that made its way to her lips. Putting down the cup of coffee she was holding, she stumbled back a little by the force as the two little humans hugged their mother like their lives depended on it.

Smiling, Y/n was caressing her two boys lovingly. What she did not expect was to see her husband as well to join in on the group hug and forcibly make his way into the middle making the kids grumble in dissatisfaction.

"That's not fair, dad! we came first!" Your kids whined.

The man gave them a smug grin. "You think? You little seaweeds wouldn't be here if I did not come first, you know." He blew raspberries at the kids. "Also, did you not know your mother loves me the best?"

His comment earned him a smack on the head from his beloved wife. The man held his head in feigned hurt and looked at Y/n like she just betrayed him in the worst ways.

The boys laughed at their father but were quick to ask, "Do you really love Dad more than us, mama?"

Smiling she pecked the two on their cheek, and her husband too to make him stop pouting. "Well...it may be partially true."

It was the kids turn to look betrayed. "But mom!"

Y/n giggled. "I do love you boys. I love you two so much. How can I not when you are literally a part of me? I love you two." She caressed their cheek.

"But as much as it's true that you two are a part of me," she continued, "I wouldn't be able to have you with just myself. It is thanks to your father that I am given such a beautiful gift." she smiled, her eyes shining with a sadness that is not melancholic. It was the realization that her kids would someday leave her. Of course they would, they are bound to. And when they do, she'd be thankful to her husband who stayed.

Her husband smiled at her and gave his kids a nod. Upon the command, the three hugged Y/n out of the blue and greeted, "Happy mother's day momma!"

Y/n was brought back to the present, she smiled, a few tears pricking her eyes. "Thank you, boys," she kissed their cheek. "We have brought you some food as well! We'll go bring it!" The two got up and ran to the kitchen to bring whatever they brought as a gift for their mother.

In the meantime, Y/n's husband snaked a hand around her waist, pulling her close. "Thank you, baby, for being the mother of my children. Really, thank you." And this time, her husband was speaking from the bottom of his heart

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mondaymelon · 1 year ago

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— 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮! ♡

໒꒱ || :feat~ lyney, freminet, wriothesley, neuvillette x gn!reader:

໒꒱ || cw: fluff <3 maybe a lil ooc since i havent done the fontaine quests yet, wrio is whipped !!

⤷ giving your fontaine boyfriend flowers ♡

“Oh? For me?”

LYNEY’s expression is one of delight as he holds the bouquet of roses you’ve gifted him, smiling gratefully. The shining excitement in his vibrant eyes, however, doesn’t quite translate into how ecstatic he really is… because usually, he’s not used to being on the receiving end of affection, since the charmingly flirty magician is constantly the one to make you glow red.

“They reminded me of you…” You laugh sheepishly, watching his grin only grow.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, love.” He moves the flowers to one hand as the other finds its way resting on the small of your back, giving you something to lean on as he moves forward and gives you a quick peck on your cheek, light and fleeting. “So I’ll show you my thanks, hm?” His voice is low as he stares at you, something earnest in his gaze as his violet irises twinkle. You nod, slowly, unsure of what he implies, but you know him well enough to not be startled as he swiftly moves forward and meets his lips to yours. You can feel his warmth… is it because he’s a pyro user? It’s hard to think about anything, especially when you’re pressed up against him like this, mind blank as his mouth moves against yours.

He speaks as he pulls away with a slight smile, and your hand instinctively latches onto the hem of his coat. “Not enough for you?” You can hear the smirk in his tone. “C’mon now, we can’t be too greedy, love~”

“What? No, I just-!” You hastily release your grasp on his clothes, face growing hot. “Lyney, you know I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I know, I know, it’s just so fun to tease you, y’know?” He lets out a laugh at your pouting expression. “I can’t help it, really.”

There’s no winning against this man. “Hah… alright, alright…” You glance up in surprise as Lyney gently moves you out of his arms and starts to stand up.

“Aw, don’t look so sad, I just have something for you too! Surely one kiss or two isn’t enough to repay the gift you’ve given me?” He smiles as he reaches for his signature hat, which dangles on the coat rack. You watch in awe. How come his every movement is still so graceful?

“Lyney, I don’t need repaym-” You’re cut off as the man flourishes his arms - You blink, and all of a sudden there’s a bouquet of his own in his hands, splendid yellow roses, fully in bloom. “Wh-”

“Tada!” He bows, looking pleased with himself as he stares at the flowers in your arms, then up at you. “Now we match~” He holds up his own bouquet with a beam.

“W-When did you-”

“Magic.”

“So you can create just about everything with magic, huh…” You stare at the roses in silent wonder.

“Ah ah, not everything!” Lyney bounces on his feet, watching the look of curiosity on your face with an air of amusement. One of his sparkling eyes closes in a wink.

“No magic could ever conjure up something as limitless as my love for you!” ♡

“H-Huh? Flowers? For… me?”

FREMINET’s eyes are wide as he hesitantly holds the flowers in his hands, looking rather anxious. “But… why?” The poor male glances from the roses in his hands back to your face nervously, studying your features. “Y-You should’ve told me so that I would’ve had flowers for you too…!”

“There’s no need for you to give me a gift, Min. I just got you a bouquet because I felt like it, no reason.” You beam at him as his face only grows redder. “There’s really no need to get embarrassed!”

“Ah… but I feel bad…” He shakes his head, lightly colored hair swaying with his movements. You can hear him mumble under his breath, quietly to himself: “...omorrow…ing…”

“What was that?” You blink at him, confused. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“N-Nothing! Uhm… do you want to go somewhere today? You’ve put me in a good mood, so…” He smiles softly, and the air around him seems to glow with the sheer brilliance of it. You match his smile with one of your own, watching as he takes the flowers out of the bouquet and arranges them into an intricately decorated vase, half-filled with water. Gazing at him is like observing a masterpiece at work, although you know far too well that the male’s job certainly has nothing to with that of a florist, yet the movement of his skillful hands captures your attention anyhow.

“Is something wrong? You’ve been looking at me for quite a while… is there something on my face?” Upon noticing how your eyes are fixated on him, he flinches, ears flaring red.

“No, you just look pretty today. You look pretty every day, Min.” It’s hard to restrain your laughter as you watch Freminet bury his face in his hands, his red ears visible from behind his hair.

“Don’t tease me…!”

“But it’s true.”

“D-Do you want to go to town or not…?” He shifts a finger, hesitantly peeking an eye out between them. “We can go get something to eat… I’ll pay, but you’ll have to order…” His usual habits were the same as always, how he’d stutter over his words when faced with anyone except his siblings… and of course, you.

“That sounds great, Min. Come on, let’s go!”

The next morning, a soft knock jolts you awake, three light raps hitting the wood before the sound of footsteps quickly retreated away. You manage to crawl out of bed and open the door, only to be startled as a large bouquet - larger than the one you had gifted him - sat on your doorstep, mixed with Fontaine classics and even Romaritime flowers… had he dived underwater to pick these for you? Every petal was perfect, and the flowers were all fully in bloom, despite being out of water. What kind of magic was this?

A cream-colored card catches your attention, leaning against the bouquet. On it are finely crafted words, written in Freminet’s familiar small script:

“Thank you, love.” ♡

“Hm? What’s the occasion?”

WRIOTHESLEY’s usual professionalism fades as his chest tightens with a giddy sensation. He had been having a rather tedious afternoon in the Fortress of Meropide - time passed all too slowly whenever you weren’t present - but now that you were here, he knew his minutes with you were already slipping away like sand through his fingers, no matter how tightly or carefully he cupped the grains in his hands. You were a free soul, a rather unfitting lover for his occupation, coming and going like the wind. And while your presence may be as fleeting as the gale, at least the breeze you brought would leave in him a warm sensation. “I wasn’t aware you’d be visiting today.”

“I figured I might as well surprise you! Besides, you always come home with a scowl on your face, so I was just making sure you weren’t having a hard time here,” you smile at him, an expression that causes his heart to stutter. It takes him all he’s got in him to at least somewhat maintain his professional expression, knowing full well that if anyone else saw him at the moment, they would certainly be in for a shock. Your words are entertaining. Him? Having a hard time? That had long dissipated the moment you stepped foot into the building.

“Were you worried about me? I’m okay, so don’t concern yourself over such trivial matters.” Wriothesley lightly shakes his head. For someone as beautifully naive as you to exist in this world, he knew full well that your future would not be free of adversaries. He supposed that wasn’t exactly a problem, though. The male had already promised himself that he’d dispose of them all when you weren’t looking.

Your face scrunches up like you’ve eaten something bad. “Trivial?” you echo, your tone expressing your annoyance. “Wrio, how could you say that? Of course I should be worried about you, silly! What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t?”

Ah, there you go again. Every time you refer to yourself by that title, he swears he can feel his heart skip a beat, the only evidence of his flusteredness is the burning of red dusting his ears. He had been refraining from holding you until he had gotten back home, but, naturally, you had broken his final sense of reason. You blink, and there he is, pressed up against you with both of his arms wrapped around your waist, your back leaning against his chest. He’s warm, startingly so despite him being the bearer of a Cryo vision, and you can hear the rapid thrum of his heartbeat.

“You’re cold,” he remarks offhandedly, pressing a kiss into your nape, then another.

“You’re warm,” you respond, smiling, only to hear the drumming of his heart quicken.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” Wriothesley’s face is flushed, just the tiniest bit, and once you blink, you could’ve sworn that it was never there.

“Do I?” You grin up at him cheekily. “Why don’t you care to elaborate?”

“Fuck, darling… you can’t keep doing this to me. I don’t think my heart will be able to take much more of this.” ♡

“They’re beautiful.”

NEUVILLETTE's fingers graze a petal and trace its outermost edge, studying the bouquet with a smile. The blooming assortment lays perfectly balanced in his hands as he cradles them gently. “Thank you, dearest.” His smile is serene, like an untouched expanse of water. Smooth, and glimmering, and when you lean over to peer into it, you can see your clear reflection staring up at you. His eyes mirrored it, pure and unsullied. His beauty stuns you for a moment. He had always been a man with an air of elegance, his magnificence simply inhumane, and it was likely a stroke of luck that Neuvillette had ever taken you as his partner.

Of course, those were merely your thoughts on the matter. His did not match your sentiment, not even in the slightest. For in his mind, he was the one who didn’t deserve you. No, it would be simply unreasonable to compare him to something as perfect as water. You were the only one in his eyes who deserved such a title. And he was the Romaritime flower, only able to thrive in your presence.

“You like them?” He loathes the surprise in your voice. Indubitably, he did. There was no other option. It was something that you had gifted him, and that enough made its value clear.

“Certainly,” his eyes are warm. “I will treasure everything and anything you bestow upon me.”

“Vil, there’s no need to go that far…” you laugh sheepishly, only for the sound to slowly cease as you realize he isn’t jesting. “...Why?”

His soft laughter fills the silence. “I love you. Have I not made that apparent?”

“Yes, but there’s certainly no need for-”

“Shh.” This interaction has made something painfully clear for the man. Perhaps he hasn’t been showing you enough affection? He is a busy man, but he always heads home, heads to you whenever he has a second to breathe. Yes, only in your arms would he finally feel content. Only with your fingers carding through his hair, whispering his name with a smile and closed eyes, only then. You knew how much he yearned for you, right?

If not… well, that could be changed.

“You’ve given me such a precious gift, so I should show my thanks out of courtesy.” Wrapping his arms around your smaller frame and leaning your head against his chest, to hide the slightest flush on his cheeks. “Ah, but it should be a fair trade.” You tilt your head at his words, confused.

“Only one kiss won’t be justified, hm?” ♡

(a/n) help why do i actually like wriothesley's part this isn't supposed to happen ?! anyways yeah it was about time i wrote for fontaine men

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

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feelinmatcha · 6 months ago

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❛ 𝐎𝐇, 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ❜

SYNOPSIS: you're in a relationship with bakugou katsuki WARNINGS: tooth-rotting fluff 🎵: mr loverman by ricky montgomery

whether you're a stay-at-home mother, wife, or girlfriend-- or working a 9 to 5-- he sends you a text in the middle of his patrol asking if you've eaten anything for lunch yet. if you did, he'll ask what and if it was healthy or not. if you didn't? he's wiring money to your phone in the next 3 seconds even if you say you had it handled

he doesn't really forget his lunch, ever, but on the off chance that you find it still sitting on the kitchen table-- it's on purpose and you find yourself in his office scolding a cheeky katsuki

he often asks you, with a scowl, "are you giving me a kiss before i leave or what?"

if you lose something, he knows where it is. it's like second nature at this point. "babe, have you seen the remote?" he's already lifting the cushions underneath you

you notice the different sighs he lets out. you could already tell if he's genuinely angry, upset, sad, or even adoring you

you litter kisses along his beauty marks, freckles, tiny scars, and even those spots of discoloration

if you listen to sad music one evening and he's present? he's turning that off!! immediately!!

when you call him your "lover man" he gets so unbelievably warm under his clothes to the point where he's able to feel a bead of sweat run down his spine. he's flushed red, hands clammy, and he's throwing affectionate curses at you from the door because he was leaving for his night patrol. once the chilly air hits his cheeks, he lets out a breath he's been holding and doesn't miss the feeling of his lips quirking up. yeah, he's your lover man. kiri will be sending you a text in the next hour asking if you've done something to katsuki because he's been in a weirdly good mood.

your contact name for him as teens was bakublow and now its lover with an orange heart emoji

his contact name for you as teens was simply your last name and now its wife <3 (you did it as a prank, he blew red, and you told him you'd change it back but he was awfully persistent in not letting you touch it anymore)

when shopping for clothes, ingredients, etc. he makes it a rule to pay for everything. he makes a fuss about it, sure, but he'll yank you away from the register if you so much as stare at the cashier for far too long

at night, when his phone dings and he's busy shaving his beard in the bathroom, he calls out for you to see who it is. you have to tease him to say please. it's either work-related, spam, or one (or all) of the bakusquad pestering him to hop online and play a few rounds before it gets too late

he slides into bed with you and always, alwayssss gives you a forehead kiss. he doesn't forget unless he's very sleepy after an all nighter

NOTES: oh how i love him.

#mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugo x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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authorhjk1 · 7 months ago

Text

Home

Mother and Daughter

(Kwon Eunbi X Winter X Male Reader)

With tears in her eyes, Minjeong quickly unlocks the front door. She hates it. She hates school. She hates the other girls. She hates the guys. She just hates it!

"Welcome home, dear!"

"Hi mom."

Minjeong is able to hold back a sniffle as she heads to her room. Her mother, busy with making dinner, had her back turned towards her. When she turns around, expecting her daughter to tell her about her day, she is surprised that she already left.

Inside her room, Minjeong throws her backpack onto the bed. With clenched fists, she kicks a dirty sock under her bed. Why does she have to watch this shit everyday? A boy and a girl messing around during the break? Both of them sharing meaningful glances in class?

"Argh!"

Minjeong stops herself from kicking her bed. She tries to calm herself down by taking deep breaths. This wasn't the first time she had to watch one of her friends make out with a guy from school. So why did it bother her so much today?

She shakes her head in annoyance. What does her friend has that she doesn't? Isn't Minjeong funny? Isn't she polite and caring? Isn't she pret-

Minjeong's eyes fall on the mirror. Is that it? She sees her sad face in the reflection of the clean glass. Is she unable to find a boyfriend, because she isn't pretty enough?

"Oh man!"

Minjeong lets herself fall face first onto the bed.

What is she supposed to do then? All her friends are bragging about boyfriends and...and... and sex...

Minjeong shakes her head. That's exactly the reason why she finally wants to have her first time! She hates feeling this way! She blushes when it's a topic of a conversation. She wants to know how it feels.

Raising her head slightly, she glances at the mirror again. What is it with her? She is desperately trying to ignore the obvious. The thing, or rather things, she can't change.

She is, well, naturally pretty, if you can call it that. Rather cute than sexy, but that isn't so bad. Is it?

Minjeong's eyes finally land on her cleavage. That must be the problem. She hates her chest. Why does she have to be so small? She sometimes hears the guys talking about the girls in her class. Allegedly they even made a list, ranking all the girls.

"I'm definitely last."

Minjeong groans in annoyance.

Why isn't she growing bigger? Her friends all look way better than her. Especially Karina. She is Minjeong's best friend. But in moments like these, Minjeong hates her guts. Why does Karina have it all? A beautiful, sexy face, a big chest, full thighs, a round ass.

"What is wrong with me?"

Minjeong kicks her legs into the mattress, feeling like the ugliest girl in the world.

"Minjeong-ie!"

She hears her mom knock on her door.

"What is it, ma?"

"I made us dinner, sweetie."

"A minute!"

Minjeong tries to pull herself together. Looking at the mirror again, she checks if her eyes have become red from crying.

Eunbi watches her daughter sit down on the other side if the table.

"Are you doing alright, honey?"

"I'm fine, mom."

Eunbi raises an eyebrow in suspicion, but she doesn't pressure her. At least not now. She has always taught Minjeong and her brother to respect other people's boundaries, so she always leads by example.

But throughout the unusual quiet meal, Eunbi starts to become more concerned about her daughter's condition. Minjeong just pokes at the meat on her plate, instead of actually eating it. How is she supposed to cheer up her daughter?

You come to mind.

"Are you excited for tomorrow, Minjeong-ie?"

"Tomorrow?"

Minjeong raises an eyebrow in confusion. She doesn't even remember what day it is, too busy thinking about how to become more attractive. Should she eat more? That way she could make her chest a little bigger maybe. But she doesn't want to get called fat at school. It's a dilemma.

"What day is tomorrow?"

"It's the 10th."

Eunbi gives Minjeong a meaningful look.

The tenth...

"(Y/n) oppa!"

Minjeong is suddenly smiling brightly. She almost forgot that you would come home tomorrow. After not having seen you in person for almost half a year, Minjeong is longing to hug you for hours, once you are back.

"Exactly."

Eunbi smiles as well, happy to see her daughter being finally in a good mood.

"He will come home late though, so you will see him on the day after tomorrow."

"But..."

"No but. You have school."

That's something Eunbi always prioritizes. School. It sucks for Minjeong. She hates school. But she gets why her mother has that obsession with school.

After her husband left her, Eunbi had to take care of both of you, while needing to find a job as well. Because she didn't go to college or anything, it was hard for her to find a well paying job. Once you were old enough, you started working at a sporting goods shop, having been interested in soccer and sports, since you can remember.

You were able to help your step mom out enough to make up at least a little bit of the damage your father had left. But your already bad grades started to suffer even more. And eventually, you dropped out of school.

That's why Minjeong doesn't argue further with Eunbi about staying up late and welcoming you. It's not like you are gonna run away, before she can even see you.

"Talking about school... How is it going?"

Eunbi rests her chin on her hand, looking at her daughter.

"I-It's alright."

Eunbi notices how Minjeong is suddenly very interested in the food in front of her.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Everything is great, mom."

Minjeong manages to smile at her, before looking down again.

"And how is it going with your love life?"

Eunbi winks at her sheepishly.

"Mom!"

"What?"

Minjeong looks at her puzzled mother, embarrassed that she was going to take it out on her.

Eunbi always told the both of you to be open minded and always listen to other people's perspectives. And that includes relationships as well.

"I-I don't have anyone."

"Oh, that's alright, sweetie. You are still so young."

"No I'm not. (Y/n) is only a year older than me. And Karina and the others all have boyfriends already."

"That's true."

Eunbi nods, now realizing where her daughter's sour mood might come from. But that's not something she can actively help her with as her mother. Respecting Minjeong's boundaries, Eunbi decides to not press her further. If she needs advice or someone to talk to, Minjeong knows that Eunbi will be there for her either way.

While Eunbi starts doing the dishes, Minjeong goes back to her room to finish her homework. Math. Something she could totally live without.

As she tries to read the next task for the next problem, her mind seems to be somewhere else.

"Come on."

Minjeong grumbles, annoyed with herself.

She eventually finishes her homework. Later than she hoped though. Realizing that she has to go bed now, because of school tomorrow, Minjeong starts to get ready for bed.

Debating on what pajama to put on, she looks around her closet. They all look ugly to her today. She really hates this. How can she be sexy, if she doesn't even have sex clothes?

Suddenly Minjeong feels this tingly excitement creeping up, when she remembers the purchase she made a month ago. Today isn't the first time she hated her body. It's more like an every day occurrence. But the last time it was this bad, Minjeong got herself something to make her feel better about herself.

She takes her chair from the desk and puts it in front of her wardrobe. Her mom is not gonna come into her room today anymore, already having said good night. Minjeong gets on the chair and then on her tip toes, trying to reach the parcel at the back.

Once she got her hands on it, Minjeong opens it, taking out the underwear that's hidden inside. She is so glad that she was able to buy it online. If she would've had to buy it in a store, she probably wouldn't have had the confidence to do so.

A smile creeps onto her face as Minjeong puts the box back to its rightful place, before starting to put on the lingerie. Karina told her once that she got something similar in black for her boyfriend. Hers is peach colored though. She feels the smooth fabric hug her skin as she slowly puts it on. After a couple of moment, she checks herself out in the mirror.

White stockings wrap around her slim legs, making her look a little thinner than she usually does. The peach garter belt around her hips is actually more of a tiny skirt. Minjeong is able to see a hint of her lace panties, even without needing to lift it up. The small bow in the front is a little darker than the rest. The same goes for the short strings that connect her belt and her stockings. Minjeong's stomach is fully exposed and she can't help but let a hand wander over it. She is proud of at least that part of her body. Not everyone looks as fit as she does. But the bra still looks a little too big for her.

Minjeong sighs in disappointment. It has the same lace patterns as the skirt, but she is unable to fill it completely. Why doesn't she have her mother's genes? She always envies her. Her mother has had a couple of boyfriends throughout the years. They were all unable to focus, whenever Eunbi wore a low cut top. But why can't Minjeong be like this? She wants to turn all the boys' heads in class, when she enters the classroom.

But looking into the mirror a little longer, Minjeong realizes that she isn't as ugly as she thought she is. She might not have the biggest chest. But apart from that...

Minjeong gets on the bed, finally, at least a little bit, comfortable in her own skin. She mindlessly lets a finger run along the straps of her bra, looking up at the ceiling. Her naked thighs slowly start to rub together. Suddenly, Minjeong is horny. She doesn't even remember what she thought about a moment ago, after she lied down. But the increasing heat in her lower area makes her reach out for her laptop on the desk.

With shaky fingers, Minjeong types in the address of the porn side she usually goes to. It always feels wrong and dirty, whenever she opens it. But she can't stop.

Minjeong scans the home page, looking at the new videos that came out, after she watched something last time. Her cursor finds itself on a video she hasn't watched before.

Once the video starts, Minjeong quickly skips past the annoying scenes of the woman, showing off her body. She reaches the point where the guy fucks her doggy style. Minjeong watches how the woman's tits sway with every thrust. Jealous, but turned on even more, Minjeong finds her right hand rubbing her lace panties. She is wishing so desperately to be that woman. She finally wants to get fucked like her. She wants to be able to tell everyone that she isn't a virgin anymore.

Eunbi yawns as she steps out of the bathroom. She feels small butterflies in her stomach, thinking about you, coming home tomorrow. She hasn't talked to you properly in so long. She wants to tell you how proud she is. What a great man you've become.

Wondering what the two of you should do together during your stay, Eunbi passes Minjeong's room. She stops in her tracks, when she hears light moaning.

"Fuck my little pussy harder!"

She furrows her eyebrows. That's not Minjeong, is it? Is that why she disappeared so quickly into her room when she came home? Is this the reason, why she acted like this during dinner? Is she hiding her boyfriend from her?

Eunbi is disappointed. She hoped that, when the time comes, Minjeong would tell her about everything. Curiosity slowly starts to creep in.

"Maybe just a quick peek."

She slowly turns the doorknob, before looking inside.

"Mom!"

Minjeong is thrown out of her blissful moment, when she hears the door crack open. Horrified by realizing that her mother just saw her masturbate, she quickly closes the laptop and covers herself with her sheets.

"Baby..."

"Go away, mom!"

"There is nothing wrong with doing this, Minjeong-ie."

The young girl's cheeks flush red. This must be one of the most embarrassing moments of her live.

"I-Please leave."

"Minjeong-ie, I want to us to be as close as we've always been. You don't have to be ashamed by what you are doing. It's totally normal."

"R-Really?"

"Yes. I do it too."

"Mom!"

Minjeong covers her ears, not wanting to hear about her mother's sexy life.

"Don't be so childish. We can talk about this like adults."

Eunbi finally opens the door completely, before stepping inside.

"You look really pretty by the way."

She slowly walks over to Minjeong.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

With a warm smile, Eunbi sits down on the edge of the bed.

"The colour matches your skin really well. And your body is just perfect. I'm still surprised you haven't found anyone yet."

"Mom..."

Minjeong seems more sad than embarrassed now.

"I-No one likes me. I'm not pretty enough."

"How could you say something like that?"

Eunbi's heart brakes as she gasps in surprise.

"You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen. You are by far better looking than all the girls your age."

"Oh please, mom. I will never be as hot as you."

Eunbi can't help but feel a little warm inside at her daughter's compliment.

"Don't say that. Everyone is pretty in their own way. Tell me something that I have that you don't. I'm sure you can't-"

"Y-Your chest."

Minjeong's shy comment makes Eunbi look down on herself. She glances back at her daughter, who is lying on the bed, looking up at her with a sad look on her face.

"Oh come on, Minjeong-ie. Yours aren't as small as you think."

Eunbi reaches out and feels her daughter's tits.

"They are maybe not as big as mine, but bigger doesn't always mean better."

"It does."

Eunbi shakes her head.

"You are not ugly, just because you don't have a big chest. Your face is so gorgeous. And you take so much care of your body."

"You are lying. You could sleep with any guy you want. The guys in my class won't even look at me."

"You are lying to yourself. Who wouldn't want to be intimate with a girl like you?"

Eunbi cups Minjeong's cheek with affection.

"Everyone it seems like. No one likes how I look."

"That's rubbish."

Eunbi unconsciously lets her hand wander over Minjeong's body.

"If you think no one is paying attention, you have to dress a little more provocatively. Your own body is not the problem."

"You mean dress more sexy?"

"Exactly."

Eunbi takes another look at her daughter's outfit.

"This lingerie looks so good on you. Anyone would want you."

"But I can't walk around in lingerie at school, can I?"

"That's true, honey. Why don't I show you tomorrow how I dressed, when I went to school? It was good enough for your father, you know?"

Eunbi winks at her daughter playfully, her hand resting on her midriff.

"Fine. But can you please leave now? I-I want-need to..."

Minjeong trails off. Still embarrassed to voice her need for pleasure.

"Of course, baby. But don't watch stuff like this. It can make you addicted and it's just not how sex works."

"Then how am I supposed to..."

Minjeong's cheeks redden once more.

"Just think about a guy you like. Or something you want to experience."

"What do you think about, when... when you, you know?"

Eunbi ponders for a moment. She would've said that she takes herself back to the best moments of her own sex life. But that would hit a nerve right now. She is finally on the same wavelength with her daughter. She doesn't want to give that up now.

"I think about actors, or singers, you know? Maybe a guy I've met in the mall. Something like this."

"And what do you imagine doing with them?"

"Well..."

Eunbi thinks for a moment, if this isn't a little too much. But she finally decides to be honest.

"I usually just imagine them having sex with me. I usually start by kissing. And then, they ea-eat me out, you know?"

Eunbi can't help but be a little shy as well. This is the first time she talking about how she pleasures herself. With her daughter no less.

"I wish I knew how that felt."

Minjeong's confession makes Eunbi's heart ache.

"And how do you, you know?"

Minjeong rests her hand on her own panties. Eunbi can't help but notice the proportions of her hips and waist. How is her daughter not getting laid 24/7?

"Well, I sometimes use toys. But I usually do it with my hand, like anyone else."

"I see."

Minjeong looks away, but Eunbi feels like there is more she would like to know.

"I sometimes have trouble fin-finishing. Especially without the videos. C-Can you maybe show me?"

Her daughter's desperate eyes make it impossible for Eunbi to say no.

"Of course, baby. Give me some room."

Minjeong scoots to the right side of the bed as Eunbi starts to rid herself off her jeans. The younger one can't help but stare in envy at her mother's body. Every part of her seems to be made for perfection. Minjeong can't find a single flaw on her mother's body.

When she slowly pulls down her black panties, Minjeong takes in the sight of her mothers vagina. A weird feeling overcomes her. Is that where I came from?

It weird to think about it, so she brushes the thought away, when Eunbi finally sits next to her. Both of them rest their heads against the wall behind her bed.

"You have to warm up yourself first. So don't go in immediately. Start by teasing yourself."

Minjeong watches her mother as she starts to play with herself. Her fingers circling around her snatch and around her clit as well. She let's her own hand wander down her body, until it disappears inside her panties. She tries to mimick her mother's movements.

"Try to find something that feels good for you. I usually do this."

Eunbi forms a V with her pointer finger and middle finger, using it to slide up and down along her clit. Minjeong follows her movements once more. A deep sigh escapes her mouth at the new found feeling.

"That's the part where you start to think about someone. Think about a guy you like. How the two of you would kiss."

The both of them start to enter their own worlds, lying side by side. Minjeong catches herself altering the shape of her mouth as she imagines herself kissing the hottest guy at school. Karina's boyfriend.

"Once you are ready for the next step, start to push your fingers inside of you. You should be wet enough by now."

Eunbi follows her own words, letting two of her fingers enter her snatch. A deep moan escapes her mouth as she thinks about the last time she had sex. Meanwhile, Minjeong winces as she tries to put two fingers inside of her as well.

"M-Mom. It's not really working."

"Are you not doing it right? Let me try."

Without thinking, Eunbi lets her own fingers slip out of her, before she reaches inside Minjeong's panties. Minjeong moves her hand away, feeling her mother's fingers resting on her lower lips.

"If you've never done this before, try one finger at first."

Eunbi sinks a finger into her daughter's pussy.

"Mommy."

Minjeong moans as she feels her mother's finger move inside of her. Her walls tighten as she feels it glide along them.

"You're really tight, baby. Guys like that."

"R-Really?"

The younger one can't help but smile.

"I'm gonna try two fingers now, okay?"

Minjeong nods, watching her mother's hand inside her panties. Another moan escapes her, when a second finger joins the first.

"Oh god."

Another breathless moan escapes Minjeong's mouth. Eunbi told her to imagine herself with a guy she likes, but she is unable to do so. Her whole body and mind are focused on the two fingers inside of her. Minjeong catches herself slowly grinding against her mom's hand, letting out small whimpers.

"That's a good girl."

Eunbi said that a thousand times before. But this time, she feels dirty saying it. She realizes what she is actually doing. She is fingering her own daughter. She watches how Minjeong's eyelids flutter with every stroke of her fingers. How her back slightly arches off the wall. Her thighs rubbing against each other.

"Mommy."

That word sounds so dirty to Eunbi's ears, when Minjeong releases it in another needy moan.

The sight of her daughter shaking and moaning around her fingers proves too much for Eunbi. Her left hand finds its way towards her own pussy. And eventually, she starts to finger herself and her daughter at the same time.

"M-Mommy. This is the-the best."

Minjeong can't help but mewl. Her eyes are still closed, her empty hands trying to hold onto something for stability. Her mind gets overwhelmed by the pleasure that radiates from her mother's fingers inside of her.

Eunbi starts to finger herself faster as she feels her daughter's walls hug her fingers more and more. She has never done something like this with anyone before. The warmth that starts to rush through her body is something different than usual. It awakens something more primal in Eunbi. Her vision becomes a little fuzzy on the edges as she keeps fingering her own daughter.

When she looks at her, she can see Minjeong squirm on her sheets, begging her mother for more. Eunbi licks her lips, feeling the younger girls juices on her fingers. She eventually submits to her urges.

Eunbi removes her fingers from Minjeong's cunt, earning a disappointed and needy moan. She edges herself even more, moving her fingers to her mouth. She tastes her daughter's pussy juices on her finger.

Minjeong's eyes widen, when she sees her mother licking her fingers clean, before she starts to reposition herself. She ends up between Minjeong's legs, pulling down her panties.

"Mommy..."

Even Minjeong herself doesn't know what's going on with her own body. She can't help but buck her hips towards her mother's slightly parted lips, eager to feel another person's mouth on her pussy.

"Please..."

Her needy plea makes Eunbi finally throw all caution out the window. Flattening her tongue, she uses a big swipe along the length of Minjeong's pussy, to lap up her juices. The slightly salty taste hits her taste buds.

Minjeong's hands find themselves in her hair as she holds on for dear life, feeling her mother's tongue exploring her most intimate part.

"Mommy."

She can't help but say that word over and over again.

Eunbi starts to eat out her daughter, succumbing to the pleasure of her fingers, which still move inside her own pussy. The thoughts that tell her how wrong this is are being pushed to the back of her head. Her lust takes over. She wants to show her daughter how this feels like.

Mother and daughter moan in tandem as one eats the other out. While Minjeong's moans echo through the her room, Eunbi's stimulate the younger ones pussy even more. Her humms make her squirm on her sheets.

"So good, mommy."

Minjeong loses herself in a world of unknown pleasure. She has never felt this before. She feels how the warmth, starting out from her pussy, starts to spread through her body. A tingling sensation with it. Almost like waves. They rush through her, elevating her from one plateau to the next. Each gives her another spike of ecstasy. Another idea of what heaven must feel like.

"M-Mommy, I-I..."

Minjeong loses the ability to speak as she also loses control over her body and mind.

Eunbi watches in awe as her daughter orgasms in front of her. Wave after wave rushes through her body from head to toe. Each one stronger than the the previous one. Minjeong's hips lift off the mattress in a failed attempt to contain the pleasure within her.

Minjeong becomes undone in front of her mother's eyes. Eunbi, unable to look away from her daughter's climaxing body, eventually reaches her own high. She buries her face in the mattress. Shame and embarrassment are mixed with raw pleasure and love. She never even thought about doing this with her own daughter.

"Mommy...."

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

Hi guys!

I tried to write something a little different than usual today. I got the idea for this from someone I text with on Wattpad. There will be more chapters for this, I hope you will look forward to them.

Stay healthy!

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #male reader #kpop gg #aespa #winter #aespa girls #aespa winter #aespa smut #winter smut #kim minjeong #kim minjeong smut #eunbi smut #eunbi #kwon eunbi

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hongcherry · 3 months ago

Text

on my mind || l.c (m)

The handsome stranger at the pool gives you an experience you won't forget.

💦 Pairing: idol!Chan (Dino) x stranger!Reader (f) 💦 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); smut (!!!), fluff, some angst; idol au, strangers to lovers au 💦 Warnings: Pet names (baby, pretty girl, beautiful), public/pool sex (bc of those pictures), unprotected sex (be safe!), no prep (be safe again!), bigDick!Chan, breast play, lowkey sad ending 💦 Word Count: 3.4k 💦 Author’s Note: Oh Lee Chan... How dare you do this to me 😩 (and ty @okiedokrie for beta'ing!!! 🥰)

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty!

“You know you’ve been staring for the past thirty minutes, right?”

Your gaze snaps up from your book. The handsome stranger stares down at you, water droplets dripping from his hair and down his sculpted body. You force your eyes to stay on his, but all you want to do is follow the water south.

You had hoped to be more discreet earlier, but supposedly you failed.

“S-Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew,” you lie.

The man’s lips tilt in a knowing smirk. His expression fans the heat in your belly.

“Am I?” he questions.

“No,” you reply and avert your focus on your book again. “Sorry.”

You expect him to leave, but he still blocks the sun from your view. When you realize he’s not moving, you look up again.

He beams a charming smile.

“What brings you here?” he asks.

You rest your book on your lap, keeping a finger between the pages as a bookmark.

“Paid for the pool, might as well use it,” you chuckle.

He laughs and glances back at the water. “You’re not really using it, though.”

You bite your lip. You were going to, but seeing the stranger and his friends play in it, made you want to watch rather than join. However, his friends had just left and now it was only you two.

“I used it earlier,” you lie again.

He cocks his head to the side. “Do you always lie to strangers?”

“What?” Your eyes widen; your heart races.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks, abruptly switching topics. His pretty smile falters as if realizing his friendliness has taken a turn.

You sit up and shake your head. “No! You’re not. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says and looks away for the first time. He glides a hand over his hair. The muscles in his arms bulge at the motion, and you force your thoughts to stay PG.

“I should head inside. It was nice meeting you,” he says, barely making eye contact.

You place your book down and rise to your feet. You tentatively reach out and brush your fingertips against his forearm to stop him from leaving.

He turns to you fully again.

“I’m Yn,” you introduce, hoping that will make him stay.

He gives you a tiny smile, answering sheepishly. “Chan.”

Is he shy now? You almost giggle at his change in attitude.

“What brings you here?” you reuse his question.

“Work,” he replies.

You glance around at the upscale hotel. “Must be a nice job.”

“It is,” he says.

Sensing he still feels nervous, you glance at the pool. “Join me for a swim?”

His brown eyes grow. For a second you think he’ll decline, but he nods and walks to the stairs. He takes the steps carefully and when he’s at the bottom, he holds out a hand.

You don’t need his guidance, but you accept his offer—if only to feel his strong hand around yours.

You let out a small gasp at the cold water. He chuckles as he watches you tense up.

He steps toward you and runs his hands over your arms carefully, not wanting to overstep a boundary. However, he must feel how you feel. There’s something between you two that makes you want to skip a few imaginary steps from strangers to friendship to maybe something more.

Your lips pull in a smile as he warms you.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

He nods then slowly steps away. He looks around; his sight snags on a volleyball floating at the other end.

“Want to play?” he asks, gesturing to the ball.

“Okay,” you reply. Hopefully doing so will alleviate some of the timidness.

Chan swims to retrieve it. As he does so, you sink into the water to get used to the temperature. You take the moment to admire Chan’s back muscles. They ripple with every movement he makes, and you wonder how they’d feel under your hands.

When he turns and catches you staring, he smiles. You glance away, embarrassed at having been caught.

“I kinda liked having your eyes on me,” he says playfully when he nears.

You tuck your chin down and fidget under the water.

He chuckles and taps a finger under your chin to get your attention.

“Ready to play?” he questions.

Eager to change the topic, you nod and stand.

Chan’s gaze follows the water rolling down your body. You’re glad to see he feels the same way for you.

You reach out to grab the ball and Chan snaps his eyes up, only now realizing he was staring. It’s his turn to look embarrassed.

Granting him the same courtesy, you let the moment go.

“First to ten wins?” you ask.

Chan swallows the lump in his throat and nods.

You take a few steps back before you toss the ball in the air. With your hands clasped, you hit it with your forearms, sending it in his direction.

Chan mimics your pose and bumps it back to you; however, it falls short and you miss it.

“First point goes to me,” Chan smiles. He pushes the water to make the ball float to you.

“Isn’t it your turn?” you wonder and grab the ball.

He shrugs as if to say it doesn’t matter. You nod and toss it in the air before you hit it.

You and Chan play until it’s four to two.

Chan eyes the ball in the air and then hits it with his hand.

You move to the side and hit the ball, though, it goes more up than out.

Chan rushes to it. He reaches out to volley it back but slips on the pool’s tiles. You don’t have enough time to react as his body collides with yours and slams you both under the water.

He scrambles to stand and lifts you by your sides to surface you.

You inhale a breath as soon as you can.

“I’m so sorry!” he exclaims, holding you tight in case you might fall back under.

A mixture of laughter and gasping comes from you. It’s probably not a pretty sound, but Chan smiles anyway. The worry etched on his face slowly fades.

“Does this mean I won?” you ask between giggles.

Chan laughs and nods. His wet hair sticks to his forehead and his torso shines under the sunlight. He’s beaming that handsome smile, the one that reads happiness and confidence. You really like his smile.

“Only because I’m disqualified for body slamming you,” he replies.

You shrug as if it doesn't matter. “It was fun.”

Chan raises his brows. “Being body-slammed?”

Another shrug. “It didn’t hurt.”

“I’m glad,” Chan says.

“So, what do I win?” you ask playfully.

It’s not until Chan squeezes your waist that you remember he’s still holding onto you. However, you don’t pull away. His touch feels nice.

“What do you want?” he questions in return.

You take the tiniest step forward.

“Something unforgettable.”

Chan’s eyes flicker to your lips.

“I can do that,” he whispers confidently. Then not even a second later, his lips are on yours.

Your mouths move in a heated kiss, tongues already sliding against each other. You’re quick to meet the other halfway to connect your bodies. Your soft breasts push against his hard chest.

Chan’s hands glide up and down your sides, thumbs brushing the side of your breasts. Meanwhile, your arms wrap around his neck, a hand caressing the back of his head to keep him close to you.

Needing to feel him more, you grab one of his hands and place it on one of your breasts.

Chan moans into the kiss and automatically squeezes them. He slips his hand beneath your swim top to feel you directly.

You pull from the kiss with a gasp and a moan.

Chan takes the opportunity to slide your top up, gathering it under your arms. He marvels at your exposed chest and cups your breasts in his strong hands. He pushes them up, rolling the flesh in his palms before pinching your nipples.

You mewl at the pleasurable pain, which causes Chan to smirk. He alternates between massaging your breasts and twisting your nipples between his fingers. You can feel how much he wants you against your body. It makes you eager to feel him inside you.

You grab his hands and gently pull them off. He frowns but doesn’t say anything. After giving him a reassuring smile, you lean forward to peck his lips.

Your kisses trail south, along his jawline, down the column of his neck, and in between the valley of his pecks. You take a detour to flick your tongue against one of his nipples, eliciting a small moan from Chan.

Your tongue plays with it before moving to the other and repeating your actions before continuing downward.

Chan watches attentively as you trace his defined muscles with your tongue. You ignore the slight chlorine taste as you lick his abs, tongue dipping in the divots of his body. You’d be ashamed of yourself if you weren’t so aroused.

Though, Chan doesn’t seem bothered at all as he stares down with darkened eyes and an open mouth. You kiss just above his swim trunks, a grin taking over your mouth.

“Shit, come here, pretty girl,” he mutters and pulls you up.

The disappointment of almost sucking his cock evaporates as soon as he kisses you roughly. He leads you both to the shallower part of the pool.

When he comes up for air, he takes a quick glance around. The area is empty.

He reaches out to grab a flat inflatable lounger that floats by.

“Get on,” he instructs softly and holds it in place.

You carefully ascend the floatie. Thankfully, the trees in the area block the sun from your eyes when you lay.

“Move down more,” he says, still holding it tight so it doesn’t flip from under you. “Wrap your legs around me.”

You scoot lower until your ass is toward the bottom of the lounger, legs around Chan’s waist to keep steady. You suck in a breath when his hard cock brushes your clothed center.

“You ever done this before?” you wonder, taking in your position. The height of the water makes the floatie align perfectly with his pelvis.

He chuckles. “Nope, so if this goes horribly wrong, I apologize in advance.”

You laugh. “I forgive you in advance.”

Chan grins and moves one hand to circle your clit while the other gropes your breasts. Your body jerks at his touch. The fast motions against your clit combined with the rough squeezes of your breasts heighten your arousal.

“I need to feel you, Chan,” you whimper.

“You are feeling me,” he teases, hands moving a little rougher to indicate what he’s referring to.

You whine pathetically as you buck your hips. “Inside me.”

Chan’s movements slow down.

“Okay, let me,” he begins to say as he trails a hand lower to your core.

You shake your head, grabbing his hand. You know he means to prep you, but you’re too eager.

“Just want your cock,” you beg. “Please.”

A smirk forms on his lips. He slowly takes his hands off your body, and you pull him closer with your legs, thinking he’s about to leave you.

“Easy there, beautiful,” he says and rubs your thighs comfortingly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Once his words register, you nod sheepishly and ease your grip around him. Smiling, he tugs his swim trunks down enough to free his cock. Your pussy gets wetter at the sight of him.

“Let me know if you want me to stop, okay?” he asks and pulls your swim bottoms to the side. His focus flickers between your eyes and your dripping core.

“Okay,” you answer, eager for him to fill you.

Chan carefully inches closer and then gathers some of your arousal with his tip. You hold your breath in anticipation.

When Chan’s tip finally slips inside, your mouth falls open with a gasp.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sliding in gradually. You’re so tight around him.

“Open up for me, baby,” he coos and starts to rub your clit again. “Let me fill this pussy all the way.”

Your hands clutch the sides of the inflatable lounger. His girth stretches you in a way you haven’t experienced before. You focus on the circular motions against your clit, easing your body and letting Chan enter you easier.

“There you go, pretty girl,” he praises, pushing in the last of his cock.

“So big,” you mumble. You shift slightly and moan at the sensation. Chan’s circles on your bud falter.

“And you’re taking me so well,” he says with a smile.

He stays sheathed inside you for a minute. Your hips buck every so often from him stimulating your clit. Each movement makes you whine or moan from feeling Chan’s cock rub against your walls.

“Can I move?” he questions; there’s no pressure in his voice.

You nod.

Chan rearranges his hands to hook under your thighs. His palms the top of your thighs to ease any nerves you may have. Though, you’re not nervous at all. You may have just met Chan, but you know he’ll never hurt you. He’s been attentive to your needs and your comfort since he first spoke to you.

Slowly, Chan glides out halfway. The drag of his cock feels heavenly.

Then, he pushes back in.

He does this motion slowly, making sure you get used to the feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls.

“Faster, C-Chan,” you say. Every glide feds the fire in your belly. Whatever pain or discomfort you were feeling has disappeared. In its place is a lust that needs to be quenched.

“You sure?” he asks.

You nod. “Fuck me.”

Chan curses under his breath. His grip on your thighs tightens and his pace gradually picks up.

Before you know it, he’s pounding inside. He uses your legs as leverage, eyes hooded with hunger. Occasionally, his gaze moves up to watch your tits bounce with each slam of his body. The water laps around you both; some of it sloshes over the sides of the pool. The sounds of the water splashing and his skin hitting yours make everything feel sexier. You’re sure this looks like a scene from a porno, but that fact just turns you on more.

“Try to be quieter,” Chan says after a string of loud moans comes from you.

His suggestion barely registers in your mind. “I’ll tr—oh fuck.”

Chan chuckles and slows down. He trails a hand up your body to caress your face. His thumb glides along your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting it snap back in place.

When he goes to do it again, you open your mouth wider and suck his thumb into your mouth.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, sight locked on your puckered lips.

Chan moves his other hand to grip your hip. He begins to transition from powerful thrusts to sensual glides. He rolls his hips expertly against yours. Although they’re not fast motions, the slow slides in and out have your eyes rolling back. You hadn’t expected him to know how to move like this, but it’s obvious he’s skilled. You briefly wonder where the skill stems from. Has he had lots of practice having sex, or did he move his body in other ways a lot? His smooth motions remind you of a talented dancer.

“You feel so good,” he rasps and pulls his thumb from your mouth. He wipes your salvia along your lips, making them shine.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks, increasing his speed.

You nod, a choked cry escaping you when Chan connects his thumb to your clit again. He rubs it harshly while rocking into your cunt.

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet, but it’s difficult when Chan’s fucking you so well.

Your legs tighten around Chan as the fire grows. It builds and builds until it’s too much to bear. Your walls flutter around his cock and before you can warn Chan, you’re cumming hard.

Chan continues to circle your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm. He only removes his hand when you squirm from his bruising touch.

“Think you can hold out a little longer, pretty girl?” he asks.

In a haze, you nod.

Chan unwraps your legs, hooking his arms under your knees and lifting you ever so slightly. The new angle lets him go a little deeper.

You clutch the floatie and hope you don’t pop the damn thing.

Chan’s hips snap into you fast and hard, driving you absolutely wild. More moans spill from his mouth as he nears his climax. You think he sounds so pretty, but you don’t stay on the thought for long. It’s hard to focus.

“Oh fuck,” he groans and pulls out quickly. He pumps his cock, abs clenching with furrowed brows.

Soon, your tummy is covered in white. Chan’s head rolls back as he releases his load over your body. You and Chan stay still, panting and coming down from your highs together.

Chan takes in a long inhale and finally looks down. His eyes scan the mess he made on you and your fucked-out expression.

He laughs softly. He tucks himself back in his swim trunks then reaches out to fix both pieces of your swimsuit. Afterwards, his hands swipe at the cum, gently cleaning off your body.

Chan leans down to wrap his arms around you. He carefully lifts you off the floatie and onto the pool floor. He keeps his arms in place as he stares with a big smile.

“How’s that for unforgettable?” he asks.

You lean into him, hands massaging his shoulders and neck. You feel dazed and overjoyed.

“I fear you may haunt my dreams,” you reply teasingly.

“Haunt?” He chuckles. “Wouldn’t I be blessing them instead?”

You laugh, shrugging. “Depends on if I can see you again.”

Chan’s smile suddenly turns into a sad one.

“I don’t know,” he replies.

“I can’t get your number?” you ask, heart filling with lead and weighing it down. You just met the man but the thought of never seeing him again cracks your heart.

He rubs his lips together in thought. Though before he replies, the sound of an opening door interrupts the conversation.

Two men peek their heads out. From your position, Chan’s back faces them.

“There you are,” one of them says. His smile is as bright as the sun.

Chan twists in your arms to see who it is. He must recognize the men. The aforementioned people drift their gaze to you. You can tell they want to tease Chan, but they don’t. They’re probably saving it for later.

“Do we have a schedule?” Chan asks.

“No,” the other with glasses says. “We just thought you were coming back with us, but no one’s seen you.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Chan replies.

“Don’t stay out too long,” the first says, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We have an early flight tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know,” Chan says.

The men give you both a knowing smile, then leave the area.

Chan exhales a deep breath and slips from your hold. He takes your hand, leading you out of the water.

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” you ask, trying to hide your disappointment. You do a poor job.

Chan sighs and grabs the towel you had. He wraps it around your body and rubs your hands that hold onto the material.

“Maybe I’ll see you before I go?” he says, but you’re unsure if it’s a wish or a question.

“Maybe,” you say.

Chan cycles through his thoughts before speaking.

“I had a nice time, Yn. I won’t forget you.”

Your heart churns as if you’re going through a breakup. Your eyes quickly dance across his face, attempting to memorize every detail. You get the sense he’s doing the same.

“Me too” is all you say. You also had a nice time, and you definitely won’t forget this man. Not only because of the mind-blowing sex but also because he seems like a person you’d want in your life.

Chan leans in and kisses you. Unlike before, this one is slower. He takes his time moving his lips and gliding his tongue. There’s passion behind his movements that makes you crave to be more than strangers. This man oozes love, and you wish you could receive it wholeheartedly.

Maybe things wouldn’t have worked out, but something in your gut says even if you were to be loved by him for only a little while, it would’ve been worth it.

Chan would’ve shown you how it would feel to be truly adored.

A/N: rip the contaminated pool 🥲

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

Taglist: @musingsofananxiouspotato, @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @iammisstora, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

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luvyeni · 2 months ago

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ANNIVERSARY ,, 박종성

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ boyfriend!jay x fem!reader wc. 1.4k+

genre. smut

𓄷 includes ... pool sex , unprotected sex , soft sex, fingering , breeding kink, daddy kink

request. can i request a smut fic with jay, like they spend a romantic time at a luxurious airbnb and they go to the jacuzzi at night with a glass of wineee 👀

「 authors note 𖹭 」 this was cute , i really like this.

❪ masterlist! ❫

dropping your bags at the front door; taking in the beautiful home with wide eyes, jay picking your bag that he got you for your anniversary, holding it in his hand as he followed behind you. “you like it princess?” you nodded, “like? i freaking love it.” you exclaimed. “oh my god how expensive was this airbnb?”

“don't worry about it baby; i told you as long as you're with me you'll never have to worry about the price of anything.” he wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing your lips. “plus it's our anniversary, you deserve everything you could ever dream of, okay?” you smiled, nodding. “good, now let's get settled, we have dinner reservations and i know how long you take to get all pretty for me.” his hands came down to your ass, giving it a little slap. “jay stop.” you giggled. “come on baby.”

“jay!” you shouted, trying to zip up your dress, groaning when you weren't successful. “jay come here!” the man entered the room, looking as handsome as ever in his black suit, his sleeves rolled up revealing his veiny arms. “yes baby?” he asked, taking in your outfit. “oh baby , this dress is stunning.” you pouted. “why is my princess sad on our anniversary?”

“my dress, i need you to zip me up.” he stepped behind you, his hands touching your back. “i got you baby, don't be sad.” he slowly zipped the dress up. “this dress is sexy baby.” he whispered in your ear. “i think we have enough time.” he kissed your bare shoulder. “no we don't.” you scolded. “we both know quickies aren't enough for you.” he chuckled, turning you around to kiss your lips but you hold his chest. “what now?” he questioned, eyebrow raised. “my lip gloss.” he scoffed. “fine, when you want a kiss I'm gonna hold it from you.” shaking your head at his childish antics. “like you could do that, let's go before we miss the reservation.”

you guys have an amazing dinner; filled with good food, laughter; and a whole bunch of love— and jay teasing you under the table, his hand slipping through the slit of your dress to rub your thigh, dangerously close to your ass, but he just pulled away leaving you wanting more.

you guys make your way home; the atmosphere still full of love, neither one of you wanted to call it a night. “how about we get in the jacuzzi?” jay said. “have some wine, and enjoy the rest of the night?” he held your heels in his hand, you nodded. “i’ll go change into my bathing suit.”

you took off your makeup from the night, putting your bathing suit on; the one jay loves so much, putting your hair back before making your way out the jacuzzi where jay was lighting scented candles, two glasses of your wine already sitting on the side. “you didn't have to do all this.”

he turned around, eyes darken as he took in the sight of you in that bikini he loves so much. “you like?” he smirked, nodding. “i fucking love baby.” he bit his lip. “let's get in.” you sat down on the side, slowly getting into the pool, sighing as the warm water hit your skin. “feel good baby?” jay got in, floating towards you, holding you in his arms. “it feels really good.”

he handed you the glass of wine, massaging your wet skin. “good.” he whispered in your ear. “i want you to just relax.” he kissed your neck, you sighed taking a sip of his drink. “let me take care of everything.” his kisses made your stomach erupt in flames, he kissed your shoulders. “j-jay.”

you couldn't take it anymore, between him teasing you in the restaurant and his burning kisses, you had reached your limit and he could tell. “you know if you want something baby then you have to ask for it.” you felt his hands toying with your bikini string, you whimpered. “what is it baby?”

“please touch me.” he untied the string of the top, pushing it off your shoulders, letting it float on the water, he turned you around; gently pushing you against the edge of the pool, running his thumb along you hardening nipples. “such pretty tits princess.” he brought his lips to your perky nipples, engulfing his mouth around them, sucking softly on your buds. “oh fuck jay keep doing that please.” you ran your manicured fingers through your boyfriend's hair.

he suck on your nipples, switching back and forth between your boobs, his hands slipping under the water to unite the strings of your bottoms, lifting you up wrapping your legs around his waist. “ja-jay i need more.” he finally pulled away from your now sensitive boobs. “what do you need baby?”

“please touch me.” he hummed. “touch you where baby?” you whined, he grabbed your cheeks. “don't get bratty now baby, where do you want me to touch you?” you took his hand, guiding down into the water, to your cunt. “here.” he cursed, biting his lip. “you want me to touch this pretty pussy?” he ran his thumb down your slip. “yes.” you moaned.

“good girl.” he pushed his fingers inside of you. “fuck you're so tight.” he grunted. “such a pretty pussy, love it so much.” he kissed your lips. “jay please fuck me.” you moaned, he smirked. “you want me to fuck you baby? make you cum all over my cock?” you nodded. “words baby.” he added another finger. “yes jay, please fuck me.”

“fuck princess, cum in my fingers first.” he added another finger, using his thumb to rub figure 8s on your clit. “cum for me.” he felt your legs twitching as you came. “good girl, cum all over daddy's fingers.”

both your bottoms and top left abandoned, floating in the water, jay finally letting his hard cock out of his trunks, your hand snuck into the water, grabbing his length stroking it up and down. “fu-fuck baby , keep doing that.” he moaned , leaving little marks on your chest and neck. “keep stroking daddy's cock, mmm fuck gonna stuff you full of his cock.” he cursed. “jay.” you moaned, guiding his cock to your entrance. “please fuck me.”

he slipped the tip of his cock into your hole, both of you moaning as he slowly filled you up. “that's it baby.” he moaned. “be a good girl and let daddy fill you up.” the water moving back and forth as he fully seethed himself inside you, pulling out; slamming back inside you. “oh fuck jay!”

the water splashing back and as he fucked you; luckily the houses were further away from each other so no one could hear you screaming for him to fuck you harder , or deeper. “fuck jay im gonna cum again!” he cursed, biting your shoulder. “cum , cum all over my cock.” he groaned as your cunt fluttered around his cock , your arms wrapping around his neck , he held you close as you came. “good girl, you can give me one more right?”

pulling himself out; he flipped you around; your top half exposed to the nighttime air, pressing against you, his cock rubbing against your folds, he pushed himself back inside you, holding your waist before plunging himself fully inside you. “fuck baby , fucking love you so much.” he grunted , grabbed any part of you that he could, your ass bouncing against his pelvis. “gonna give you a baby.” you moaned out , cunt gripping his cock like a vice.

“you like that?” he slapped your ass the stinging from the water made you scream. “fuck you full of my cum, give you a pretty baby.” he hissed. “you'd make such -fuck- such a pretty mommy.” you nodded dumbly. “please , fuck please.” he pulled you up and flush again his chest. “jay im gonna cum.” you moaned, he bit your neck. “cum baby , cream daddy's cock.”

you gasped out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came , he fucked up into you vigorously, using you to get himself off. “fuck im cumming.” he cursed. “shit.” he came, holding you close. “i love you much baby.” he pulled himself out of you , lifting you up, holding you in his arms. “I love you too jay.”

he kissed your lips, before holding your legs getting out the pool, you yelped. “don't drop me.” you laughed. “i won't baby I won't.” he held you, making his way into the house. “let's go to bed.” he smirked.

“we have two more days here and im gonna make sure you leave here with my child.”

©LUVYENI

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #jay park hard hours #jay park x reader #jay park smut #jay park scenarios #jay fanfic #jay smut #jay x reader

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hiraethwrote · 2 months ago

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cw gn!reader but written with f!reader in mind, angst, no comfort, breakup, pining, minor clubbing wc: <1k an i'm on my period which is making me a little emotional, which resulted in this

ex!suguru will never truly be over you, convinced you’re the one that got away.

the breakup was “mutual”, emphasis on the quotation marks — it only meant you guys ended on good terms. it was a very quiet and tender scene. he holds your hands in his, slowly his thumb strokes across your knuckles, never letting his eyes leave your tear stained face.

ex!suguru who, despite disagreeing wholeheartedly with the decision, sees it’s for the best. he will forever hate himself for being unable to see it coming, unable to stop it — one day he suddenly notices how staying in the relationship brought you more turmoil than joy, and he didn't have the heart to hold onto you even though he so desperately wanted to. but he would ruin himself million times over for you

“it’ll be okay,” he says softly, letting himself indulge in the small acts that come so naturally to him one last time before he has to let go, hand reaching up to dry your tears and cupping your cheek. “i’ll be okay.”

with the quiet promise, he feels the stress leave your body and you rest against his touch, a sad smile painting your lips — you’re so beautiful, he thinks.

ex!suguru who lies because he knows it's what you need to hear. you had already stayed longer than you wanted because you didn’t want to hurt him. he wasn’t surprised. you were just so considerate, through and through. he had always thought the relationship was too good to be true anyways, never truly feeling worthy of you

ex!suguru who doesn’t cry, but that is because he feels numb. he can’t remember feeling a pain as intense as this one.

when your tears have stopped, only shy sniffles escaping you, he comes with one last confession. “i’m always going to love you.” he waits, hoping you would say it in return. it isn’t because you don’t love him anymore that you can’t keep going, it’s just because it isn’t working.

“i know,” you say quietly and his heart shatters.

ex!suguru who has his friends fooled because they think he is over the relationship already. he acts the same, eats the same and goes about his business the same — but that’s because it doesn’t concern anyone other than the two of you.

first weekend as a single man, gojo forces him to go out clubbing with him. he really doesn’t want to, but he can’t give his friend any excuses he will accept.

he hates every moment of it, rudely shutting down anyone that approaches him. no matter how attractive, no matter how charismatic, no matter how willing — they’re not you so what’s the point?

ex!suguru who hates the universe a little more than usual. despite his best efforts, he can’t seem to escape you entirely. and he swears he tries, but you somehow just appear every now and then.

he spots you in the grocery store, doing your daily shopping. he spots you in the line of the coffeehouse, ordering your usual drink (one he knows by heart). he sees you on every feed, posting pictures and updates of your life — you seem happy.

his heart screams for him to surrender to his desires, to approach you and hear your voice again. but he knows better, so after torturing himself by admiring you for a few seconds, he simply turns on his heel and leaves.

ex!suguru who after years still thinks about you as much as the day you left. he has tried to move on, but it feels like a betrayal, even after all this time.

has he healed? sure, a little. life goes on after all. with time he has been reunited with some sense of happiness. however it could never compare to the period of his life where he was so fortunate to be with you.

ex!suguru runs into you after nine years. and not like all the times he has simply noticed you down the street — no, you fully crash into his chest one day while walking out of a bakery.

to say he is surprised is an understatement. he has memorised all the places you used to visit so this exact scenario wouldn’t happen, and this had never been a chain you had set foot in before. but a lot changes in nine years.

“suguru, hi.” your voice is light, a rhythm in it that was not present at the end of your relationship. “wow, crazy running into you. how have you been?”

“good,” he croaks, eyes glued to your face. he still finds you as ethereal as the day you left. he wants to say more, but he is a little unsettled by how at peace you seem to be despite not being with him. “and you?”

it doesn’t go unnoticed how you present yourself as genuinely content with where you are in life. however, suguru goes through the entire heartbreak all over again — he has missed so much of your life. he used to think he would be along side you for every single moment of it. instead he is stood in front of you and feeling as if the walls are closing in on him.

his breath catches when you stretch out your hand to grab his forearm. “it was really great seeing you again,” you muse. it’s probably just wishful thinking, but he believes he hears a sadness in your voice that comes from missing him.

“you too,” he whispers, and you’re gone again.

ex!suguru who eventually comes to terms with just being alone again. before you, he always imagined this was how it would end, not the person made to share his life with someone.

you had obviously made him believe otherwise. with you by his side, waking up next to someone and sharing your meals didn’t seem so silly anymore.

but it turns out he only wanted those things if it was with you.

tags @sad-darksoul ﾉ @madaqueue ﾉ @toadtoru ﾉ @hiraethwa ﾉ @harperluvgojo

#— ଓ my creative corner #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #suguru geto oneshot #jjk suguru geto #jjk suguru #geto #suguru #suguru x reader #geto suguru

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malavera · 2 months ago

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Logan: "I'm right here, Bub." (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: You had a fight with your father, he pissed you off so much you ran off to Logan's for comfort. But is that all you want?

warning: SMUT! MDNI. Legal age gap, Unprotected sex, logan has a big cock, reader wanted creampie, reader is called peach, daddykink, foul language, spanking, choking, basically SMUT.

an: concept is inspired after reading @plutodexay-nsfw's thoughts/ideas i hope i got the permission to write this one! This one's dedicated to you!

🏷️: @robynanthonystark @joelsgoldrush @bpmiranda @bobateababe @simonwifu @weallhaveadestiny @daddy-hugh-jackman @suchasweetieee @kholdkill @superhoeva @narjuko @wcndercore @bontensbabygirl @weallhaveadestiny @heart-0f-silk @peachyystuff @the-occasional-artist1125

this is part 4 from my series called Peaches, you can read it as a standalone! if you wish to read the previous ones, click here.

🍑 Check out my other works here

🍑 Logan masterlist here

🍑 do buy me a coffee if you like this one ;)

“Logan! … Logan! Where are you?!”

You storm into his house like a burglar ready to hit the jackpot, the wind rushing in with each determined step. You're on a mission to find the six-foot, muscular beast of a man—and complain about what a complete jerk your father is. How dare he come back from his long-awaited business trip with a woman on his arm, declaring she’s the one he’s going to marry—after all this time since your mother’s death. You put up a hell of a fight back there, screaming and crying, saying that you will not accept that woman as your step-mother as there will be no one that can replace or resume your mother's love.

Logan knew about this. Your father had a long conversation with him, asking whether it would be a good idea to introduce this woman to you. Logan didn’t want to come off as a know-it-all, even though he is, but he steered clear of family matters. Still, if your father had asked for his honest opinion, he’d have told him it wasn’t the best idea—you’re not emotionally ready for something like this.

And then you were off, rushing to Logan’s, even though your father yelled your name countless times. His new girlfriend held him back, urging him to let you be for a moment, to give you some space.

“I’m right here, bub.” Your head snapped toward the sound of his voice from the kitchen, where he stood, a mix of pity and disappointment etched on his face. His eyes reflected sadness, but there was also a glimmer of understanding; he knew how you felt, even if he believed you should show more respect to your father.

You exhaled sharply before rushing to him, enveloping him in a tight hug. His body radiated warmth, and with each passing moment, your anger melted into a puddle. Sobbing into his neck, Logan wrapped his arms around you tighter, his hand gently caressing your long, soft hair as he shushed you. “There, there, calm down, Peaches,” he cooed. He lifted you off your tiptoes, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Holding you close, he made his way to the living room, settling down on the couch with you in his embrace.

“I hate him. I hate him so much,” you murmured into his neck, grumbling a bit as your anger began to bubble up inside you again.

“I know, Peach, I know. It’s okay—just calm yourself, okay?” Logan gently pulled you away to face him, wanting to see those beautiful eyes, even if they were now clouded with tears. Your eyes were bloodshot and red, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sniffled, struggling to hold back the snot threatening to escape.

You sighed, looking down, pouting. "I need you, please..." You whispered, your hands fisting his buttoned up shirt.

"What do ya need, Peaches?" His eyes searching for yours, looking for your honest answer.

"I need to fuck you, please. Please give me what I want." You pleaded, finally looking at him as your hips started to move on his lap a little.

Logan’s eyebrows knitted together, torn between giving you what you wanted and being the better man who took care of you. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sickness in his gut; even as you cried, he found you utterly adorable and breathtaking. He wanted those tears to be from pleasure, that only from him you would receive. He wanted those tears to be from the pain of taking his big cock, his hips piston while fucking you hard. Too bad, the day he saw those tears streaming down those kissable cheeks, was from every little girl's first love, their father.

“Please,” you pleaded once more, pressing your face closer to his, connecting your swollen lips to his soft ones. You began to peck and kiss him all over. The kiss was charged with your wants and needs, the urgency evident in its hurried pace. Short breaths mingled as your tongues swirled together.

Logan couldn't find the words; all he could do was surrender to your control. In that moment, he convinced himself it was okay—as long as it was what you wanted and it made you happy, he would give in. Because why? Because he was in love with you. He knew it was complicated, that he should be cautious given the age difference, but from the moment he laid eyes on you, he vowed that you were meant for him and him alone.

The fabric of his jeans felt rough against your exposed skin once you started grinding on him. The tent in his pants started growing each time you ground yourself more to him. Soft moans and pants coming out of your lips as you ground yourself more on his bulge. You placed both of your hands on his shoulders, supporting yourself to grind more on his lap. Logan leaned back and scootch his bum a little lower so you'd feel more comfortable moving on top of him. His arms that were wrapped around you now lay defenseless on his sides, as he now lets you do whatever you want on him.

"This what you want, Peaches? To use me?" Logan grunted, his eyes watching yours as you screwed them shut and whimpered.

"Please—Need... More," you whimpered. You moved a little to sit on his thighs as your hands found their way to the band of his jeans.

"Peach," Logan spoke, he wanted to stop you right there but he himself is not even sure if he should stop this moment right here and right now. You fumbled with his jeans attempting to undo it and once it's done, you pulled his jeans along with his boxers a little, enough to free'd what you're looking for.

Logan grunted once his cock released to open air, slapping against his clothed abdomen. You gasp, even though you've seen it, it never fail to always leave you breathless. His cock stand tall and proud, and you couldn't help but immediately scootch off his lap, until your knees hit the soft carpet, to grab him with both hands and put the tip inside your warm mouth.

Logan nervously moaned from the feeling of your warm tongue twirling around his tip that keeps throbbing from the way you suck on his cock. You purposely let some of your saliva spilling out of your mouth down to his balls, as you let one hand reached down to knead his balls in your hand.

"Argh, god." Logan grunted, screwing his eyes shut, tossing his head back. His hand found your head, as he fisted some of your hair. "Peach," he choked out a moan.

You whimpered before you started to bob your head up and down his cock, purposely making a mess with your saliva. The slurping and squelching sound from sucking his cock is the only thing that fills the quiet room, along with Logan's constant grunts and heavy breathing.

Giving him a couple of bobs before you release his cock from your hold, Logan grunted in surprise. You pushed yourself back up on your feet as you attempted to pull your panties off. Logan could literally smell your arousal leaking down your needy cunt. You pushed him to lean against the cushion as you mount on his lap before grabbing on his cock giving him a couple of pumps while you aim his cock at your entrance.

"Peach, peach—Wait... Baby, I gotta get us a condom." Logan hastily stop you right there but you whined and hold him by his chest.

"I need to feel all of you, Daddy, Please." Before Logan could say anything, he moaned once he felt you sinking down on his cock slowly while you looked down mouth agape slightly trying to hold down the pain from his monster cock tearing your walls.

Logan wished he'd claim your innocence in some other way, other than this. He wanted it to be special, to be memorable for you, but if this is what you want, and he'd hoped this would be memorable enough for you, then so be it.

He grunted through his gritted teeth, trying to hold himself from combusting in you right there and now. The way your tight walls choking his thick cock, it feels like as if he was getting choked by his neck. Your tight cunt felt so good around him, he wanted to take the matters into his own hands and fuck you hard right there.

"Baby, can you move, please?" Logan, is the one who pleaded.

You whimpered before nodding your head as you started to move yourself up and down his shaft. Once you get the hang of it, you place both of your hands back on his shoulders. Eyes bore into his as his into yours while your lips spill out the prettiest moan he's ever heard from you.

"God! Logan, you're so big." Logan lazily smirked.

"I know baby, I know you can take it. Come on, work that pussy on daddy's cock. Use, me baby." Logan whispered, his hand found its way to your nape, pushing your head closer to him to connect your forehead against his.

You started to screw your eyes shut, whimpering once you feel him move his hips along your rhythm. "So good, daddy." You sobbed.

"Yeah? Need to fuck that anger away on my cock, don't you, Peaches?" He reminded you why you needed his cock. To fuck your pain and anger away. The little girl that was once fragile on top of him all of a sudden snapped into someone even you don't recognize. Someone sinister that has been long living inside you.

You snapped your eyes open, eyebrows knitted together before pushing your head off disconnecting from his forehead. Logan keeps his face neutral, looking at you and groaned when he felt your hand wrapped around his throat. You started to move your hips rapidly, like riding a horse to make it gallop fast.

"Yeah, that's it, baby. Use my cock, come on, make yourself feel good. I know you're mad, baby. I know you do, come on, fuck my cock. Faster—Harder!" Logan gave your ass a couple of smack earning a loud moan from you, resulting in getting a rapid move from your hips.

"Yeah... There's a good girl," Logan whispered. "Come on, baby, I know you can do better than that," Logan coo'ed when he felt your hand attempted to squeeze his neck. He almost laughed at you on how pathetic you are, trying to control him.

So he reminded you, even though you're in control, who's the captain of this ship.

Logan's hand found your neck, as you choked out a moan. His squeeze was far from choking you but it felt like he was. He started to thrust his hips upwards, fucking your throbbing pussy; the squelching sound could be heard. His semi-saggy-and-heavy balls slapping against the bottom of your ass, sounding like a clap.

"Awh—Daddy!" You pathetically moaned for him. "Daddy—Yes! Right there, like that—Please! I wanna cum." You pleaded.

"Come on, Baby, cum f'r me."

"Ah—!" You shrieked with your eyes screwed shut as your whole body stuttered reaching your orgasm, coming down on his cock.

"There... We go." Logan helped you ride off your orgasm by still softly fucking your cunt. "Now come on, make daddy cum. Daddy wants to cum too." Logan whispered before he begin to fuck you back, fast.

"Ngh—Daddy! ... Does my cunt feel good around your cock?" You softly spoke, looking down at him flexing your doe eyes and your famous pout while Logan's bore into you, his mouth fell agape slightly as his main focus was to reach his high.

He panted, he groaned, while you're there on top of him doing nothing but letting him use your cunt. "Grrh—Fuck! 'M gonna cum." Logan grunted and now you started to fuck him back forcing his hips to stay down.

You rode him fast, faster than before to help him reach his high. "PEACH—GET OFF!" He boomed but you refused to listen to him, instead you crazily smiled at him and spill out tiny moans, looking at him.

"FUCK—I'M GONNA FUCKING CUM! GET OFF OF ME!" Logan roared.

"Cum in me, Daddy—Yeah!"

Logan couldn't hold himself any longer, his moral is not even working at the moment. All he thinks is only shooting his hot load out and he does, as he choked out a moan gripping your hips to stay in place while he shoot out his strings of cum inside you. His thighs stuttered a little while he still emptying his load; it was so much.

You giggled watching him trying to gain his breath while he looks at you dead in the eye.

"I better not see that attitude for the rest of the night." Logan warned while you just sit there, on top of him, looking at him without a care of his words.

"Thank you, Daddy."

#Malavera #Logan howlett #logan and peach #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader smut #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett dirty imagine #logan howlett series #hugh jackman #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman x female reader #logan howlett x female reader #wolverine #wolverine smut #wolverine x female reader #wolverine x you

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tradgedyinwaves · 2 months ago

Text

Touch

Poly!141 x chunky!reader tw: mentions of cheating

Ghost found you. Pretty thing standing by the produce section and Ghost thought you too beautiful to be quite so sad looking. He snapped a picture and sent it to his team with two words. Found her. 6 Months Earlier.

“Fuck you, Kit! Take your stupid whore and get the hell out!” You screamed at your soon-to-be-ex husband, throwing a vase at the wall by his head. He’d been fucking your cousin because, as he put it, she was beautiful and skinny and you were some used up fat whore. He left with her in tow, smirking evilly at you over her shoulder.

You collapsed on the floor where you stood, sobbing as you tried to deal with your heart shattering into tiny pieces. You and Kit had started dating in high school, back when you were much smaller and he was the guy every girl wanted. Sure, you’d put on weight, but she hadn’t expected it to be the thing that destroyed your relationship. Well, that caused your asshole ex to do what he’d done.

The thing was you lived in an apartment building in a quiet neighborhood in Upper New York, second story with a neighbor above and below. You’d talked to the masked man that lived above, constantly having to apologize for the volume level that Kit would get to at 4 am when he was playing his games. The masked man would just grumble and glare, telling you to make sure he kept it down.

By the 6th or 7th time, Ghost noticed the bruise on your arm despite your efforts to hide it under a loosely knitted sweater and grunted, eyeing the mark before his dark chocolate hues flicked to yours in question. You blew him off, saying you fell in the bathtub, but he couldn’t ignore the fingerprint shape the purple splotch made.

This time he came down and banged on the door, a sense of urgency behind it. He’d never heard you scream like that and he’d found himself with a need to protect you, if he could. You stood from your spot, wiping your tears as you moved to the door. Peeking through the peephole, you let out a heavy sigh and steeled yourself for the masked man’s wrath. Ghost grunted at you, brow raised as he took in the way you looked. Your hair was a mess, body wrapped in a tattered sweater and dark circles that held spilled tears. “I’m so sorry for the noise. It won’t happen again,” you stated, not looking up to catch the man’s eyes and moving to close the door again. But it stuck, the man’s large boot between the jam and the door.

Your eyes widened and you opened the door, peeking around it and finally meeting his eyes. “Don’t d’serve that treatment,” Ghost grunted at you, arms still crossed over his broad chest. You’d always found him intimidating, but you had to admit that his size intrigued you. You whimpered in response, feeling a fresh wave of tears fighting to the surface.

Ghost bullied his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him with his boot as he scooped you up into his arms. He didn’t know why he was doing this, comforting a stranger like you, but he held tight to his words. From what he could hear, you didn’t do anything wrong and never raised your voice to your trash ex and no one deserved to be treated that way for nothing.

He moved to the couch, holding you against his chest until your cries quieted down. That also meant your sense was coming back to you. You scrambled from his lap, moving to stand closer to the corner of the room. “I’m sorry. I’m okay, you don’t need to be here. I’m-I’ll be fine,” your voice shook with every word and you couldn’t look him in the eye.

You heard the couch creak in a way it usually only did when you moved off it as heavy, black boots came into your view. You looked up and met his eyes, gasping softly as you caught your bottom lip between your teeth. “Don’t look a’ me like tha’, love,” Ghost growled low in his throat, massive form hovering over you in the corner.

Maybe something snapped inside you. Maybe you were having a full on mental breakdown. But the next thing you knew, you were raising your hand to the bottom of the black balaclava covering his face. Your eyes never left his, watching them grow darker as your fingers hooked under the bottom. You waited to see if he would stop you, but when he did it, you slowly began sliding it up and off his head, scars and marks revealed inch by inch.

Ghost didn’t know why he was letting you see him. Perhaps he wanted you to see that you weren’t alone in your brokenness. You closed the distance, pulling him down to you as you pressed your lips to his in a desperate kiss. He obliged you, letting you lead the kiss as you worked through your pain. His gloved hands came to grasp the flesh of your waist, backing you to the wall when his self-control slipped momentarily.

With a growl, he pulled back from you and shook his head. He stomped away from you, wrenching your door open and slamming it behind him. He leaned against your door for a moment, ripping his mask back over his head before disappearing upstairs. And you found yourself collapsed on the floor for the second time that night.

You were resolute, determined to rid yourself of everything that tied you to Kit. It would be a long six months of divorce lawyers, packing, moving, and erasing every last trace of him from your life.

Which was why you were standing in the produce section in the middle of Manchester, England, woefully looking over the peppers you knew you’d never end up eating. You hadn’t seen anyone tied to Kit or even your own family for about four months. You were lonely, but it felt better being lonely alone instead of lonely and married. You hadn’t seen the masked man that lived above you after he comforted you that night.

You felt eyes on the back of your neck, heading whipping up in paranoia as it swiveled side to side. But you didn't see anyone. You had moved out so quickly that Ghost didn’t have a chance to check on you and had been searching for you ever since, even looping in his team. How lucky was he that six months later, he happened to be on leave and you had moved right into his hometown.

If I continue, it'll eventually be poly!141. I'm trying not to use many identifying characteristics for the reader other than she is shorter. However, this is written with the idea that the reader is plus size. Please let me know any suggestions or ways to make this better. It's the first time I'm posting my writing publicly so please be nice.

#poly!141 #call of duty x reader #captain john price #task force 141 x reader #cod fanfic smut #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #touchau #tradgedyinwaves

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darlingdaisyfarm · 1 month ago

Text

Rainy night (Ford Pines x fem!reader)

minors don’t interact

It's a summer night outside, the air is filled with the smell of rain falling on warm ground, raindrops are running down the window. The rain is not that sharp or scary, rather soft, constant, but it cools the night good enough after hot day. From time to time you hear low rumbles of thunder that come from afar, but they are soft and lazy.

It’s peaceful, almost. Except for the man beneath you.

Stanford sits on the couch, his back slumped against the cushions with you on his laps. His large hands rest on your hips, his touch is so gentle and light. He looks so tired tonight, his usual serious face softened with exhaustion from another long day of research, you feel the tension in his body, like he’s barely holding himself together.

You shift slightly in his lap and his grip tightens for a moment. His glasses are askew and you reach up to adjust them, but he grabs your wrist gently before you can. You swear there’s something in his eyes, something so vulnerable and sad that makes your heart ache.

“Leave them,” he mutters. You’ve seen him like this before, late at night when the weight of everything he’s been through catches up to him, when the need for human touch becomes almost unbearable. Thirty years in another dimension with no one to hold, no one to ground him, he’s starved for this. For you.

You don’t argue. Instead, you slide your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the soft strands of his silvered hair. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a brief moment, as if savoring the feeling of you so close. His hands move from your hips to your waist, pulling you just a little bit closer, and you feel the warmth of him.

“Ford,” you whisper softly, leaning in so that your lips brush the edge of his ear. “you’re overthinking again.”

He huffs out a breath, letting out a low chuckle. “It’s what I do.”

You smile, pressing your forehead to his, your hands moving to cradle his face. There’s something so tender about him right now, something almost fragile. You tilt his chin up slightly, forcing him to look at you and the moment your eyes meet, something shifts. You see the need there, something he can’t tell you about.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his hands gripping your waist tighter.

You lean in, your lips barely touch his, and you feel him tense under you, it’s like he’s stressed 24/7. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m here.”

And that’s all it takes.

Ford kisses you, but his kiss is demanding, rough even, that desperate it makes your head spin. His hands slide up your back, pulling you closer against him. It’s like he can’t get enough, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go.

His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you part your lips for him, the kiss deepening in a way that makes you dizzy. His fingers dig into your sides, almost too hard, but you don’t care. You want him like this, needy, desperate. He’s been waiting this for far too long.

You shift in his lap, pressing your hips down against his and he groans into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs. He’s hard beneath you and that beautiful moan he makes when you grind against him makes you feel something.

“God,” Stanford breathes against your lips, his trembling hands are everywhere now, pulling you closer, like he’s afraid to let go. “i need this, i need you.”

And you can tell he means it.

You pull back slightly, breathless, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. His cheeks are flushed and there’s a dazed look in his eyes. Ford is trying to compose himself, but it’s clear he’s already lost in the moment.

Without a second thought, you press a gentle yet sensual kiss to the hollow of his throat, feeling the warm pulse beneath your lips. He shivers at that and a low groan escapes him. “God, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You can’t help but smile against his skin. You kiss your way up to his jaw, trailing soft kisses along the way. He tilts his head back slightly, giving you more access, and you take the opportunity to shower him in affection, his neck, his jawline, nose, cheeks, the space between his brows.

“You’re. . . fuck,” he stutters, clearly at a loss for words. His hands, those strong yet delicate hands with their six fingers, twitch nervously against your sides. He looks as if he’s unsure where to place them, obviously nervous.

“Ford,” you whisper softly, pausing to meet his eyes. “It’s okay, just hold me. You won’t hurt me.”

His brows furrowing. “I don’t want to- what if I-“

“Just be with me,” you encourage, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his forehead. “You’re not going to hurt me, i trust you.” he hesitates still, but you guide his hands gently to your waist, resting them there, showing him it’s okay. “See? Just like that. You’re doing great.”

“I just. . . I haven’t been close to anyone in so long,” he admits. “I don’t know how to. . . how to do this.”

“Just be yourself,” you answer, wrapping your arms around his neck again, drawing him even closer. “You’re amazing, Ford. You’re smart, strong and so incredibly sweet, just let me love you.”

His cheeks flush deeper at your words, and he looks at you with confusion on his face. “Sweet? Me?” he chuckles again. “You’re joking, right?”

“No joke,” you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth, watching as his lips curve into a smile. “You are, even if you don’t see it. Just let me show you.”

With that, you return to his neck, kissing him softly, teasingly, feeling the way his body responds, every little gasp, every twitch of his fingers, the way his body tense and shakes a bit. The more you kiss him, the more he lets go, losing himself in the sensation. “God, I’m a mess,” he murmurs. “you make me feel so exposed.”

“Good,” you breathe against his skin. “You deserve to feel this way.”

He grips your hips tighter, his six fingers squeezing just enough to make you look at him. “I’m afraid I’ll”-

“-hurt me? you won’t,” you assure him. “Trust me, i’m right here and i want this just as much as you do.”

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, and he leans into your touch again, his eyes fluttering closed as you shower him with affection. You kiss his forehead, his cheek, his jaw again. But there’s not a second when Ford can relax.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” you hear him whisper again.

“You’re here with me, this is real. You deserve this, Ford.”

He swallows hard, clearly fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “I- I need you,” he tells you.

“It’s okay, just hold me, kiss me, love me.”

Ford's eyes trail down, almost unconsciously, lingering on the curve of your chest. And just for a moment, he looks torn, his gaze flickering between your face and the rise and fall of your breasts. You catch that need in his eyes, the desire that he’s trying to keep under control, but there’s something holding him back.

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you lean in close. “You can touch me there too, Ford,” you whisper teasingly.

He blinks, his gaze snapping back up to meet yours, wide-eyed, clearly taken aback by your boldness. “I- I don’t. . . I mean, I want to, but- It’s been so long. I don’t even know if I. . . if I’ll do it right.”

Your heart swells at the uncertainty in his voice. Stanford — so brilliant, so confident in everything else, especially science and anomalies, was completely lost when it came to something as simple as touch. You notice it in the way his hands hover, unsure of where to go, where to touch, he’s so lost and confused, his fingers twitching nervously.

“Here,” you take his hands in yours, you feel them trembling, those large hands with their extra fingers that have always fascinated you. Slowly, gently, you guide them up your body, until they rest on your breasts. The moment his palms make contact, he inhales sharply, unable to look away.

“See? you’re not going to hurt me. Just. . . touch me, Ford. Please.”

He’s frozen for a second, there’s so much tension in his hands, the way they grip you so carefully, like he’s afraid he might break you if he holds on too tight. But then, slowly, his fingers start to move, tracing the curve of your breasts with a soft touch as if he’s exploring something completely new. It’s as if touching you like this has awakened something in him, something he’s kept buried for far too long. You feel his arousal growing, the way his body shifts beneath you, his hands tightening slightly on your breasts.

“You’re doing so good, Ford,” you praise him as you lean into his touch, pressing your chest more firmly into his hands. “just like that.” his grip on your breasts tightening just enough to make soft quiet moan slip out of you. He’s completely lost in the moment, in you.

“You’re so soft,” Ford says as he watches his hands work over you. “I didn’t think. . .” that’s when he falls silent again, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“You didn’t think what?” you tilt your head, curious about what he’s feeling.

“I didn’t think it would feel this good,” god, the way he looks at you, both amazed and a bit shy, makes your heartrace even faster. You swear you want that man.

“Good, now you’re getting it.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe I’m touching you like this, it feels incredible. I need you,” he repeats again, such painful desperation in his words, the way he’s holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. His hands move more confidently now, squeezing, exploring and every touch makes you whimper softly.

“I’m right here,” you say, kissing the side of his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ford is so desperate, he feels that tightness in his own pants, but he don’t want to take care of that, not yet, only you are his first priority. He’s staring at you like he can’t get enough, his hands, still resting on your breasts, but now squeezing harder, it’s like he’s testing how far he can go.

A soft whimper escapes your lips when his fingers caress your nipple and it’s like something inside him snaps. Without warning, he surges forward, his mouth crashing against your neck, kissing you hungrily, desperately, like he’s trying to devour every inch of you. His lips are hot as he moves from your throat to your collarbones, sucking and biting, marking you as his.

“F-fuck, Ford!” you gasp, arching into him, your hands threading through his messy gray hair. You grip tight, tugging just enough to make him groan against your skin. He never stops kissing and marking your skin and you can’t help the way your hips press down into his lap, feeling his hardness growing beneath you.

His mouth moving to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck and your breath hitches, a moan slipping past your lips. “Ford, that feels so good-“ you breathe, your fingers twisting in his hair, making it even messier, pulling him closer, urging him to keep going.

“Does it?” he asks against your skin. You can feel the way his lips curl into a smile, Stanford nips at your collarbone. “Tell me how it feels. I want to hear you.”

“It’s. . . nnhah, yes, it’s amazing,” you pant as his teeth graze your skin. “Don’t stop, Ford, please- just like that.”

His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you down harder against him, his bulge pressing against your core. “I can’t stop, princess, you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

You’re so happy that Ford starts to show his feelings at least a little more freely now, because you never knew that this scientist was capable of such a thing.

His lips move lower, sucking and biting, leaving your skin red and raw, you’re moaning at his kisses, the heat between your legs growing unbearable.

“F-Forddd,” your voice breaking as you tug at his hair again, pulling his mouth back up to yours. You crash your lips against his, tasting the desperation on his tongue as he kisses you hungrily, like he’s starving for you. His hands grip your ass, grinding your hips down against him until you’re both panting, both trembling with need.

“Sweetheart, I want you so bad,” Ford mutters against your lips, then he pulls back just enough to look at you. “Tell me what to do. I don’t- I don’t want to fuck this up.”

You smile. “You’re doing everything right,” your fingers stroking through his hair, soothing him. “Just keep going. Touch me, kiss me, make me yours.”

That seems to push him over the edge. You let out a choked moan while his hands are everywhere now, grabbing, squeezing, exploring. Finally, finally he’s opening up. His kisses grow more aggressive, more demanding, as he nips at your skin, his fingers digging into your thighs, your waist, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

“You’re so perfect, baby,” he groans and then laughs, looks like his emotions are pretty unstable now and that takes hold of him. “Hahah, I- I can’t believe you’re real.”

“Ford, please,” you arch into him, your body begging for more. “I need you to-“

But before you can finish, his lips are on yours again, kissing you with a hunger that takes your breath away. His hands cup your breasts, squeezing harder now, his fingers pinching your nipples through your shirt, and you gasp against his mouth.

“You feel so fucking good, princess, i don’t even know what I’m doing, but fuck, I want to touch you everywhere.”

And he does.

Ford fucking grips your hips like he’s terrified you’ll disappear. His hands tremble, his movements growing more erratic, like he’s trying to drown himself in you, in your taste, in your touch.

But even when his body is pressed against yours, you can feel the cracks starting to show.

Suddenly, Ford pulls back, his chest heaving, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes are squeezed shut, his jaw clenched tight, his lips trembling.

“I can’t- I don’t, i don’t deserve this. I don’t know how to do this.”

You look at him, your heart breaking at the sight. “Ford,” you start, but he shakes his head, his eyes still shut.

“I’ve been gone for so long, thirty years. . . God, thirty fucking years. I’ve been out there, and it’s like I’ve forgotten how to feel anything. This. . . you,” his voice cracks. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can be here. Not really.”

His words make your chest tighten, the directness of his confession hits you like a punch in the gut. You literally feel the weight of his trauma, the years he spent lost in other dimensions, fighting things that no one else could even comprehend. And here he is, in front of you, vulnerable, fragile, terrified, touch-starved.

“Ford, look at me,” you whisper, cupping his face gently in your hands. His eyes flicker open and you see the clear pain, the unshed tears that he’s been holding back for far too long. “You’re here now. You’re with me.”

“I still see him. Every fucking night,” he sighs deeply. “that demon, it’s like he’s still in my head. The nightmares, they won’t stop. Sometimes I think I’m still trapped there, that none of this is real.” Ford feels like he’s admitting something shameful so he tries to talk quieter than usual. “I can’t shake it. I can’t shake him.”

You lean in, pressing soft kisses to his forehead, his temple, his cheek. “You’re safe, Ford,” you tell him between kisses. “I’m here. You’re here. He’s gone.”

“I don’t know how to believe that,” Ford’s fingers clench in your shirt, holding onto you like a lifeline. “What if. . . what if he comes back? What if I lose everything again?”

“He’s not coming back. You’re not going to lose me. You’re not going to lose any of this. Not again.”

His body is shaking with overwhelming emotions and before you know it, he pulls you to him, burying his face in your neck. His hot breath burns your skin and then you feel it. The wetness of his tears, the quiet sobs that escape from him, muffled by your embrace. Ford’s body shakes as he lets go, all these nightmares and pain. You cradle him against you, letting him cry, letting him feel the safety of your hug.

“Fuck,” he sobs, he clutches you to him, his grip almost bruising. “I can’t- God, I can’t do this, i don’t know how to be here, how to be with you. I don’t know how to live without feeling like I’m going to lose it all again.”

The corners of your lips are down, tears pricking at your own eyes as you hold him tight, one hand threading through his hair, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Ford, listen to me,” you whisper, trying to sound okay despite the lump in your throat. “you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to know everything. You’ve been through hell and back and it’s okay to be scared. But you’re here now, with me. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Ford is afraid you’ll slip away if he won’t hold you tight enough. “I’m scared,” he admits. “I’m so fucking scared.”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, soft and tender, tasting the salt of his tears. “You’re allowed to be scared, but you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

He kisses you back, but it’s so messy, a sob escaping him into the kiss, his touch filled with so much emotion it makes you want to cry together with him.

“You’re not alone,” you say again, reminding him, trying to get it into his head as you kiss his tears away. “You’re here, with me. You’ve survived, Ford. You’ve survived so much. And now it’s time to live.”

His fingers digging into your skin like he’s holding on for dear life. “I don’t know how to let go of it, all the fear, the pain. I don’t know how to stop it.”

“You don’t have to let go of it all at once, but you can let me help. You don’t have to carry it alone anymore.”

Ford’s eyes are red from tears. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you see it — a glimmer of hope, even through all that pain and fear.

“Okay. . . Okay. Just don’t leave me.”

“Never,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I’m never leaving you.”

Ford’s body slowly starts to relax as he allows himself, for the first time in years, to feel safe. To feel loved.

Ford’s breath is still shaky as he clings to you, but there’s something else now, something shifting in the way he holds you, in the way his lips linger just a little too long against your neck, your jaw, your chin. His desperation hasn’t disappeared, it’s just changed. The need to feel, the need to connect, it burns hotter now.

You cup his face, wiping away the last traces of his tears with your thumbs. “I love you, Ford.”

And you kiss him.

This time, it’s not tentative or gentle, it’s hungry. Because you’re trying to make him understand. You swear you hear his heartbeat, his heart pumps blood like crazy. Ford kisses you like he’s drowning, like he needs you to keep himself afloat, and it’s intoxicating, overwhelming in the best possible way.

Finally, his hands slide under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin. He hesitates for a moment, his fingers trembling as they brush against your ribs and you lean into him, your hands guiding his, encouraging him, showing him it’s okay to want this, to want you. He’s still hard, his length feels painfully tight in his pants, it’s aching, but Ford kisses you again and again, making you moan into his mouth.

“I can’t get enough of you.”

“Don’t- don’t stop, please.”

His mouth moves lower, trailing down to your breasts, you feel his breath on your skin. Ford takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin.

“G-God, Ford,” you breathe heavily while his mouth works you over, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as his tongue teases you, flicking, sucking on your nipple like he’s fucking starved. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to keep going.

“You still want, right?” he stops and looks up at you. “I’m just-“

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him with a soft smile. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, i want this. I want you.” so you decide to prove your words as you slip your hand into his pants, fingers wrapping around his thick, throbbing cock, feeling him jump at your touch.

“Ford, are you gonna let me make you feel good?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stutters. “Please, don’t s-stop.”

You start to move your hand, stroking him slowly at first. “You’re doing so good for me,” you purr, your thumb running over the tip of his cock, smearing the precum. “such a good boy, Ford.”

“Ahhh, please, just like that, don’t, nnhah, don’t stop,” his lips part in a breathless moan as your hand strokes him, thumb brushing over the leaking tip. “It feels so good,” he groans, his hips bucking up into your hand as you wrap your fingers tighter around him, moving smoothly, gently. You enjoy the way his breath quickens, the way his face twists in pleasure as you pump your hand, feeling his leaking precum as you take care of hun.

"You're doing so good for me, so perfect, Ford." you lean in to kiss him gently, swallowing his moans as you continue to stroke his throbbing cock, your hand moving up and down in perfect rhythm.

His hands, shaking, reach out, nervous at first, before resting on your thighs. However, the way he looks at you. . . God, the way he looks at you, with such adoration, like you’re the only thing that matters right now, makes your heart melt.

“Y-you're so beautiful," he says, eyes closing as he gives into the sensation of your warm hand around him. He’s so hard, so sensitive. Leaking.

“Just look at you,” his cock twitches at your words. “so needy, so desperate.” he’s leaning into your touch, needing more.

Ford groans and grunts, his hips thrusting up into your hand, seeking more friction, more pleasure. “I- I can’t-! It’s too much!”

“Just feel, Ford,” you move your hand faster now. “let go.” you guide his hand to his own length, showing him how to match your rhythm. You watch him closely as you can’t get enough of his beautiful face, his brow furrowing as you quicken your pace, fingers working faster over him and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him, his mouth falling open in soft gasps and moans.

“Oh, God. . . Ohh, this is so-“ he whines, his six fingers trembling around your wrist, and you know he’s close. “I- oh fuck, I’m gonna-“ Ford gasps, his body trembling and you tighten your grip, wanting to feel every bit of him release. The wet sound of your hand gliding over him filling the air. You can’t get enough of the way his body responds, the way his hips buck against your grip, the way he gasps and moans your name like a prayer. It’s all so beautiful.

Ford’s whole body tenses and he cums hard. His cum spills over your fingers in thick, hot spurts, coating your hand. His head falls back again, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he rides out every last wave of pleasure.

"Oh god, I- I didn’t mean to!" his voice breaking with a mixture of shame when he looks down and sees what happened, his release coating your hand in warm, sticky fluid. "I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be," you whisper, kissing his chin. "You’re perfect, Ford, absolutely perfect."

For a moment, Ford just stares at you, like he can’t believe any of this is real.

“I want to be inside you.” you hear him say and you look at him in surprise, not trying to hide your emotions. You definitely didn't expect to hear this, although you really wanted to feel him inside, you needed him to take you and make love to you. But you thought he would be tired after— “I want to feel you.” his voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Yes, yes, please,” you answer him excitedly, your fingers still gently caressing his length as he recovers. You kiss his jawline, his neck, your lips tracing the lines of his body and face. Ford laughs, his lips twitch into smile, his hand comes to rest on top of yours. He kisses your palm, then your fingers, paying attention to each one while his eyes locked on yours.

“I love you,” he confesses. Your hand slides back down to his cock, already throbbing again. "and I'm going to make sure you know that." Ford grips your hips, guiding you down until you feel the tip of his cock pressing at your wet entrance. You sigh, the sensation sending shockwaves through you, he’s big, thick, and you can already feel how much he stretches you, just by rubbing himself against your wet folds.

Holding you, he pushes you down, sinking into you slowly. The sensation is delicious, filling you in a way that makes your eyes roll back, a soft cry escaping your lips. You gasp as he fills you completely, the stretch making you feel so incredibly full. He’s so hot inside you, his cock pulsing. He’s deep, so deep inside you.

"You’re so t-tight,” Ford groans, feeling your pussy clenching around him. "does it feel good, princess? tell me, tell me it feels good."

You can barely find the breath to speak, but you nod, gripping his shoulders as your hips roll. “Y-yes, Ford, ahhnn, it feels so good” your little cries driving him fucking insane and for a second he thinks all of this is just a dream, that he’ll blink and everything will disappear, but no, here you are, right in front of him. Ford wants to hear you cry for him, to feel every inch of you wrapped around his cock. He wants to know all if this is real.

“You’re so beautiful,” his eyes glued to where your bodies connect, his hands urging you to sink deeper. “Just like that, take me, fuck me”

“Ohh goddd, Ford,” you whimper, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, your breaths mingling. “please, don’t stop!”

“Such a good girl, you’re doing so good for me, just like that.” his fingers find your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts.

His control is slipping; it’s obvious by the way his hips are starting to buck up into you, his cock throbbing inside you, stretching and filling you perfectly. “you feel so fucking good. I want you to ride me, princess,” he mumbles. “I need to feel you- all of you.”

His voice breaks on the last word and it makes your pussy pulsate around him once more, but you obey, moving faster, taking him deeper, the slickness between your thighs making each movement smoother. His hands wonder over your body, gripping your waist, your thighs, sliding up your back to hold you as you grind down onto him. And it’s still not enough, Ford thinks he’ll never have enough of you.

“You’re doing so good, princess, s-so fucking good.” the sound of his needy voice makes you melt, and you lean down, pressing your lips to his. His tongue meets yours, hot and eager, as his hands continue to guide your movements, while your moans muffled by him. Ford pulls away to look into your eyes.

“Please, I need to know,” he’s begging, thrusting inside you desperately. “i need to know you’re mine, please”

You grip his face between your hands as you look into his eyes, nearly crying from overwhelming feelings and pleasure as his cock drilling into you. “I’m yours, Ford, im all yours-“

A low moon escapes him at your words, he fucks into you a bit harder, your wetness and tightness drives him crazy and he pulls you down, pushing deeper, until you feel every inch of him, every vein of his cock pulsing inside you, throbbing with need. You let out a soft cry, your hands gripping his shoulders as you ride him.

Ford watches you lose yourself in the pleasure. “Fuck! I can’t-“ he moans as his hips jerk up into you. “your pussy feels so good, so good, baby, I feel so good-“

The sweet tension coiling in your stomach, the pressure building as he thrusts up into you, you throw your head back as every inch of him stretches you.

“Ford. . . I’m so close,” you whine, feeling him hitting all the right spots inside you.

Ford groans when your pussy tightens around him again and it feels fucking heavenly, he pulls you down for another desperate kiss, you swear your are swollen from so many kisses, but you don’t give a fuck, you want to feel him, every part of him. “Cum for me,” he whispers into your mouth, breathing deeply. “I want to feel you, princess.”

And with one final thrust, you do, your body shuddering as the orgasm crashes over you, your soft walls clenching tight around him. You rock your hips back and forth, never wanting this to end. Ford gasps, hiding his face in your neck to suppress his pathetic, but such beautiful sounds as he finishes inside you, claiming you. You hold him, pulling him even closer as you still roll your hips, feeling his warmth filling you up as he cries out your name, his body trembling.

For a moment, the world is still, the only sound in the room you’re shared heavy breathing as you both come down from the high. Ford’s arms wrap around you, holding you close, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath you.

He then presses a kiss to your temple. Ford looks at you like you’re the answer to every question he’s ever had. You’re silent, waiting him to speak because you know he wants to say something. His fingers gently caress your cheek. "You're the only one I want inside my mind. No one else, just you.”

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