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Osoyoos Lake, WA (No. 3)
Oroville is a city located in the northern bulk of the Okanogan Highlands in north-central Washington, United States. Oroville is a member municipality of Okanogan County, Washington, situated between Omak and Penticton. The population was 1,795 at the 2020 census.
Oroville is located 4 miles (6.4 km) south of the CanadaâUS border, and features an official crossing into Osoyoos, British Columbia. It is located at the south end of Osoyoos Lake, which empties into the Okanogan River on the east side of the town; the town is bound to the west by the Similkameen River. U.S. Route 97 runs through Oroville.
According to the United States Census Bureau, the city has a total area of 1.68 square miles (4.35 km2), of which, 1.64 square miles (4.25 km2) is land and 0.04 square miles (0.10 km2) is water.
Source: Wikipedia
#Deep Bay Park#Oroville#travel#vacation#tourist attraction#USA#summer 2023#landscape#countryside#north-central Washington#Washington#Pacific Northwest#Okanogan County#Okanogan Highlands#lake shore#nature#flora#tree#lawn#landmark#waves#architecture#small town#wildlife#Killdeer
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đȘ Slasher đȘ Choose Your Own Ending
pairing: DARK horror movie villain!bucky barnes x female reader
summary: somehow, you end up in your favorite old horror movie, and you decide to take the opportunity to fulfill one of your fantasiesâyou're gonna fuck the villain, bucky barnes.
warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), dark themes and elements, typical horror movie violence (blood, murder, some gruesome descriptions), smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, unsafe sadist/masochist dynamic (reader is into it but there are no safe words), dry humping, knife kink, size kink, chase kink, oral sex (m receiving), rough sex, rough body play, light spanking, choking, breath play, bratting/brat taming (reader is slightly unhinged), dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink, boot riding, dacryphilia, pet names (cottontail, baby), reader passes out during sex, possessive behavior
word count: 13.3k total (11.6k with only the dark ending; 11.9k with only the fluffy ending)
a/n: i really didn't know if i'd be able to finish this fic in time for the end of my Slasher Summer challenge because it's probably one of the most ambitious fics i've ever attempted. it's loosely inspired by the movie The Final Girls (highly recommend) but i couldn't decide how i wanted it to end, so y'all get TWO ENDINGS!! both are included here, with additional warnings down below. i worked really hard on this, so i really hope y'all enjoy!!! đ
The last thing you remembered was the feel of fuzzy static on your tongue, fizzling through your arms and legs and making you feel like every nerve ending in your body was buzzing to life. You had a vague memory of licking something you probably shouldnât have, but then your ears popped and you felt solid ground beneath your feet.
Staticky silence was suddenly replaced by shrill screams of excitement and the mechanical whirring of carnival rides. The rich scents of funnel cakes and popcorn and cotton candy filled your nose, making your mouth water with the desire to eat your weight in fried food.
Blinking your eyes openânot remembering when youâd closed themâyou were met with the entrance to the Bakersfield Fun Fair. The big banner declaring the name of the carnival sparked a hazy recognition deep in your mind, but when you looked around, you didnât quite recognize where you were, and you had no memory of how youâd gotten there.Â
Still, something about the fairground, with its ticket booth and carnival rides and all kinds of stalls selling food or touting games to play for prizes, felt familiar. Like youâd seen it in a dream, or when you were a child the memory was a distant thing.Â
Muggy summer air brushed against your skin with a soft breeze that helped to alleviate the worst of the heat, the air holding a hint of chill as the sun set on the distant horizon. It cast everything you could see, which was mainly just the carnival and the grassy field being used for a parking lot, in a golden glow.Â
Finally, it occurred to you to look down at yourself, finding that you were wearing cutoff jean shorts and a plain tank topâneither of which you recognized.Â
The confusion youâd held at bay suddenly overwhelmed you, making you feel as dizzy as if youâd just ridden the tilt-a-whirl, which you somehow knew was nestled somewhere in the fairgrounds. Your stomach lurched as your mind tried to make sense of where you were and how youâd gotten there. You closed your eyes and tried to think.Â
As you concentrated, memories began to surface in your mind, like you were dragging them up from the depths of a deep, murky lake.Â
It wasnât summer. It was fall, you remembered, and just moments before youâd been curled up on the worn, aged rug in your grandmotherâs basement. You were housesitting for her while she was on a cruise.Â
You remembered closing your laptop, heaving a huge sigh of relief at finishing work for the day, then going down into the basement. Youâd spent countless hours there as a teenager watching movies on the big, boxy TV set, the kind where you could feel the static if you put your hand against the screen. Your favorite movies to watch were the horror onesâŠ
That was it!Â
That was why Bakersfield and the carnival seemed so familiar. Bakersfield was the small town terrorized by the ruthless villain in your favorite horror movie, Slasher, and the final actâs killing spree took place at the townâs annual end of summer carnival. The Bakersfield Fun Fair.
And the villain was Bucky Barnes, a psychotic killer with a sadistic sense of humor and piercing blue eyes.Â
Youâd had a crush on him when youâd first watched Slasher as a teenager, and your attraction to him remained even well into your adult years. Youâd decided to put the movie on because youâd been lonely at your grandmotherâs, figuring a night with your favorite horror movie slasher would be the closest thing to a date you could get.
Once you remembered that, the rest of it came back to you. Youâd been curled up on the rug in front of the TV, and your favorite scene had come on. It was the one where Bucky is cleaning a bullet wound in his shoulderâgiven to him by the movieâs mean girl, right before he brutally stabs her in the headâand he had his shirt off, showing the broad expanse of his muscled chest.
It hadnât been your finest moment, but you were lonely and you got it into your head to lick the screen of the TV over Buckyâs bare chest. And then, that was it. That was all you rememberedâand the feeling of static on your tongue.
Opening your eyes, you looked up at the banner again. You blinked. And blinked again. Then you pinched yourself. You didnât wake up.Â
The sign still read Bakersfield Fun Fair. ButâŠthat was impossible.
Your jaw went slack as you looked aroundâreally looked at your surroundings.
In the time that youâd spent figuring out where you were, the sun had dipped behind the tops of the trees in the forest beyond the fairground, turning the sky pink and orange, fading into a deep cerulean. There was a ferris wheel in the distance, and the canopy top of a carousel off to the side.Â
There were lines of stalls stretching in both directions beyond the entrance to the fair, some with ring toss games and others with milk bottles to be knocked over. Other stalls were selling all kinds of junk food, from cotton candy to candy apples.Â
Everything looked and sounded and smelled real. You could practically taste the funnel cake on your tongue, and feel the powered sugar-covered fried dough melting in your mouth. You could clearly see the faces of all the people milling around the fair, kids breaking off with hands clasped tight around their tickets as they went running down the various rows of stalls.Â
And the closer you looked, the more realized everything was dated. The clothes, the rides, the toy prizes. Everything looked like it was from the early 90s, when Slasher was made. Even your own clothes and the tennis shoes on your feet looked like they were out of the 90s.Â
It was bizarre, and yet, it didnât feel like a dream. But it had to be a dream. Right?
Spinning around in a circle, you decided that had to be the case. It was the only thing that made sense. Itâs not like you couldâve been transported into the world of your favorite horror movie. Stuff like that didnât happen; it broke all rules of physics and other science stuff you didnât understand.
Deciding to just roll with it and enjoy your dream, you shrugged off your confusion and headed into the Bakersfield Fun Fair. While you meandered down one of the lines of stalls, you wondered if youâd see any of the characters from the movie. You wondered if youâd see Bucky.Â
You almost tripped over the grass beneath your feet at the thought, your heart speeding up in your chest and beating excitedly against your rib cage as you considered the possibility of actually meeting your biggest horror movie crush.Â
But your mind didnât stop there. Oh no. You were the girl whoâd decided to lick an old, staticky TV because it was the closest you thought youâd ever get to licking Buckyâs bare chest.Â
Naturally, your mind took the thought of meeting him much further and you thought about fulfilling one of your most cherished fantasies. If you were in the world of Slasher, you wanted to fuck Bucky Barnes.Â
Before youâd ended up at the Bakersfield Fun Fair, in some ultra-realistic dream, the closest you couldâve gotten was finding a guy who looked like Bucky Barnes and try to convince him to wear the Slasher mask while chasing you through the woods.Â
But youâd found yourself in the world of your favorite horror movieâwhether by way of your subconscious dreaming about it, or some breakdown of the space-time continuumâand you had the chance to fuck the actual Bucky Barnes. Giddy excitement flooded through you, and you began skipping down the line of carnival stalls, trying to remember what exactly happens in the final act of Slasher.
It probably shouldâve worried you how unconcerned you were with the possibility that Bucky could kill you before you even got started trying to convince him to fuck you. But it was your dream, so what was the worst that could happen? If he killed you, youâd just wake up horny and dissatisfied, right? Then, youâd have to take care of yourself, which wasnât any different to any other day of your life.
Nah, you were almost entirely certain you were in a dream, and because it was your dream, you wouldnât have too much trouble getting Bucky to fuck you. You just had to find himâŠ
As if right on cue, screams erupted from the opposite end of the fairground, and it sparked your memory. The action at the end of Slasher ramps up when Bucky storms the Bakersfield Fun Fair and the final girl, along with the remainder of her friends, try to set a trap for him.Â
Trying to hid your giddy grin, you raced through the fairground, heading in the direction of the screams. Since youâd remembered the beginning of the end of the movie, you couldnât help but think about what else happens. Bucky carves through the final girlâs friends one by one in various, gruesome ways on the carnival rides at the fair. Then, the final girl eventually traps him by crushing his arm in the gears of the carousel.Â
Bucky doesnât die, of course. He comes back in the sequel, Slasher II, and sports a metal arm that glimmers in the moonlight while he stalks the final girl around Bakersfield all over again. Itâs not nearly as good as the first movie, but Bucky is still very hot, and you watched the sequel nearly as many times as the original when you were a teenager.
You were so distracted by thoughts of Buckyâs prosthetic arm, and what it would feel like to have his metal hand wrapped around your throat while he fucked you, that you didnât realize you were suddenly alone in the fairground, and youâd made it to the Tunnel of Love ride.Â
It was then that you spotted the macabre scene of the final girlâs best friendâyou couldnât remember the characterâs name, it was something boring like Johnâwith his heart ripped out of his chest and held in his limp, dead hands. His lifeless eyes stared unseeingly ahead, looking almost like a movie prop, but so, so much more real.
This particular kill was one of Slasherâs most controversial, you remembered. Half the cult fandom argued it was too on the nose, since the movie heavily implied John was in love with the movieâs final girl and never found the courage to tell her. The other half of the fandom enjoyed the tragic romance of it.Â
Personally, you didnât care much about the kills or the drama between the final girl and the other characters. You really only watched Slasher for Bucky, and only cared about the creativity of the murders when he looked particularly hot doing them.Â
Your mind whirled as you stared at Johnâs dead body, your brain focusing on the Slasher message boards youâd trawled well into your college years, rather than trying to make sense of the horrible sight in front of you. It really, really looked like real blood soaking his clothesâand you could even smell the coppery tang of it in the air.
Instinctively, you took a step back, the grass of the fairground soft beneath your feet. The sun had slipped fully behind the trees of the forest beyond the fairground, casting long, ominous shadows over the scene. Your heart beat harder in your chest, and you took another step back, as if putting room between you and the horrific sight in front of you would somehow make it easier to reconcile.
You took one more step backward and bumped into something solid, something that you knew deep in your bones shouldnât be there.
The smell of blood was stronger suddenly, mixing with an earthy, spicy scent that didnât make sense for the carnival fairground. Holding your breath, you slowly looked over your shoulder and were met with the sight of a black leather-clad chest.Â
Already, you knew it was him. But you dragged your eyes up and sucked in a gasp when you met the piercing blue gaze of Bucky Barnes.
His eyes were filled with a cold hatred that was so visceral, it made your stomach twist in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. Inexplicably, warmth bloomed low in your core, unfurling and reacting to the villainâs presence. Finally, you were face to face with your biggest horror movie crush, and you couldnât help but take a moment to take all of him in.
Bucky Barnes was even bigger and more intimidating than he seemed on your TV screen, and he was more handsome too. His eyes were an electric blue, the color so bright, it seemed like it glowed from within. And his chin-length brown hair fell on either side of his face, highlighting the strong line of his brow and the intensity of his gaze.
The villainâs mouth and nose were covered by the hard plastic mask that matched the utilitarian leather jacket and combat pants he wore with thick, heavy boots. There were straps on the leather jacket that spanned his broad shoulders, and a utility belt around his trim waist where he secured the various knives and weapons he used throughout the movie.
Looking up at his face again, you realized Bucky was so much taller than you expected, standing behind you like a mountain of cold hatred, radiating danger and menace. Unfortunately for you, that only made the heat simmering in your belly burn hotter until you were squeezing your thighs together against the ache building there.Â
You knew your bodyâs reaction to the psychotic murderer was foolish, to say the least, but there was something about the dangerous man that made your heart beat harder, and made you want to spread your legs for him.Â
Glancing down to Buckyâs hand, you saw the big butcherâs knife dangling from his fingers. He hadnât raised it yet, and when you looked back into his eyes, the villain seemed to be watching you closely, as if wondering how you were going to react to him.Â
The longer you went without screaming or running away from him, the more his brows lowered over his eyes. He began to look perplexed.
That was fine, you could work with perplexed.
Carefully, as if dealing with an animal you didnât want to spook, you turned around and set your hands gently on Buckyâs massive chest, your fingertips toying idly with the leather straps on his jacket. Holding his gaze with your own, you slid your hands up to his shoulders and pushed yourself up onto you tiptoes so you could twine your arms around his neck, as if he were your boyfriend and you were welcoming him home.
âHi,â you murmured, your voice coming out breathy as your heart beat wildly in your chest. You fluttered your lashes at Bucky, figuring that if you didnât treat him like a threat, he wouldnât be. And so far, it was working.
The horror villain didnât seem inclined to respond to your shy greeting, so you pressed yourself close to him, enjoying the feel of his hard body against your soft one. Arching your spine, you pushed your tits up in your tank top, as if offering them to him.Â
You were gratified when Buckyâs gaze dropped to your lightly heaving chest, and felt his empty hand twitch against your bare thigh, like he wanted to touch you but was holding himself back. Not that you needed him to touch you to know he was enjoying the feel of you against him.
Buckyâs bulge was already digging into your lower stomach, and you suspected heâd already been hard before youâd pressed against him. But still, you were gratified when, every time you shifted against him, he twitched in his pants, his cock eagerly responding to you.Â
The interest of Buckyâs cock had a smile spreading across your face, making you look like the cat who got the cream as you tipped your head back and grinned shamelessly up at the horror movie villain.
âIs that a knife in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?â you purred, rocking your body against Buckyâs bulge and pressing your chest more tightly to his leather jacket. You were practically rubbing on him like a cat in heat, but you couldnât stop yourself. It felt too good to feel his solid, sturdy form against you.
As you shifted closer, you could feel the tackiness of blood on your arms and chest, and when you glanced down, you saw that some had stuck to you from Buckyâs jacket. It was odd to see the blood on your skin, but it felt like another reminder of what you were doingâand, especially, who you were doing it with.Â
Fire was blazing through your veins as you cast your hooded eyes on Buckyâs face, your mouth going soft as you met his piercing gaze. There was a cold flame in the depths of his blue eyes, one youâd never seen in all the times youâd watched Slasher, and it filled you with pride to realize Bucky liked having you pressed against him.Â
In response to your question, which youâd almost forgotten in the seconds after it passed your lips, Bucky huffed a laugh behind his mask. Then his hands were on your ass, and he was grabbing your soft flesh with an unyielding grip. He hiked you up higher against his chest, using his inhuman strength, and your legs fell open instinctively, so his thick bulge dug into the juncture of your thighs.Â
A wanton moan fell from your lips, your head falling back as you rocked your hips in tiny circles, grinding on Buckyâs hard cock through your clothes. You could feel the flat steel of his knife pressed to the back of your thigh, and your core pulsed at the weaponâs proximity to your most sensitive place, but you didnât have any worry he was going to use it on youânot when he was staring at you with such a greedy look in his eyes.
Bucky growled out, âDumb slut,â as his fingers dug into your ass through your jean shorts, but you were too distracted by humping against the mountain of a man, pleasure swirling through your body and filling your head with cotton candy nothing.Â
All that mattered was grinding against Buckyâs bulge, and the fact that you were finallyâfinallyâgetting to live out your darkest fantasies of fucking the horror movie villain.
âYâknow, I always wondered if killing made your cock hard,â you murmured breathlessly, catching Buckyâs eye and giving him a cheeky grin. âGuess I have my answer now.â You dragged the seam of your shorts up the thick length of Buckyâs cock, drawing a growl from him, your smile spreading wider. âUnless you just have a soft spot for dumb sluts like me,â you said, giggling at your own joke and batting your lashes at him.
Bucky shook his head at you, but not like he was disagreeing with youâmore like he was already exasperated with your antics.Â
âI thought I already killed this townâs biggest slut,â Bucky ground out, and though you couldnât see his mouth or jaw, you somehow knew he was grinding his teeth. His fingers dug harder into your ass, his grip nearly punishing as you squirmed against him.Â
You found an angle that had your clit rubbing against the tip of Buckyâs cock through your clothes and you let your head fall back, a filthy moan spilling from your lips. The obscene sound rose toward the darkening sky above the fairgrounds, loud against the silence that had fallen over the deserted carnival.
When you managed to get control of your tongue again, and pick up the thread of your conversation, you shot Bucky another grin.
âIâm not from Bakersfield,â you purred, pulling yourself closer to Buckyâs face, until your lips were nearly brushing against the hard plastic of his mask. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy, gusting through the slots on the front, making you shiver. Your expression settled into one of fake seriousness as you stared him in the eye. âAnd you have no idea how much of a slut I can be.â
A growl rumbled in Buckyâs chest, and his blue eyes narrowed on you, like a predator deciding on its prey.Â
âIs that a challenge or an invitation, little cottontail?â
He slapped your ass with the flat of his knife, an obvious instruction to keep humping against him.Â
As you followed the order, you choked out a one word answer, âBoth!â Then bit your lip against a moan, hiding your delight at the nicknameâand your surprise that Bucky would call you anything so sweet.Â
But you didnât seem to be grinding against him hard enough, because he dragged the sharp edge of his knife over the backs of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your ass. He didnât press hard enough to break skin, but you could feel the threat in the gesture.
You lost the battle against trembling in the big, horror movie villainâs arms, and whimpered, rocking against him harder as a single tear leaked down your cheek. Pleasure was pulsing through your body, hard and fast, the same rhythm in which your heart beat in your chest.
Bucky rumbled a sound of pleasure, his blue eyes going molten as he watched the tear track down your face. He seemed to have forgotten your conversation entirely, more focused on your smaller body humping against his larger one.
You had long since soaked through your panties, and you could feel your arousal leaking through your shorts, coating your inner thighs in your wetness. But dry humping with Bucky wasnât what you had in mind when youâd fantasized about the horror movie villain through most of your adult years. You needed more, and you had just the ideaâa fantasy youâd long wanted to fulfill. With Bucky Barnes especially.
âI know youâre sort of busy, killing and all that,â you huffed, your body straining to keep rocking against his thick length with the speed he desired. âBut I was wondering if you might want to take a break and play a game with me?â Your voice was hopelessly breathless and breathlessly hopeful, the pleading in your tone blatant as your words pitched higher with your question.Â
Buckyâs brows lowered in confusion. âWhat kind of game?â came his rumbling, distorted voice from behind his mask.
With a flash of a smirk, you shifted one hand to his shoulder, where you remembered the bullet wound would be beneath his jacket. You could feel the slight raise of the bandages beneath the leather, and you dug your thumb into the spot. You were rewarded by a vicious growl and Buckyâs hands falling away from your ass, the cold steel of his knife disappearing from your skin.
Hopping down, you danced a few feet away from the now-enraged psychopathic killer, making sure you were beyond the reach of his long arms, including the length of his knife before you stopped. Something in your core tightened with excitement when Buckyâs cold, blue eyes focused entirely on you. Even the sight of him shaking out his arm seemed somehow threatening.Â
You could see the dark stain of deep red blood in the black leather of his jacket, and couldnât help but grin. Youâd unleashed the darkest side of him, and you couldnât be more giddy.
You knew Bucky had been holding back on you while youâd been in his arms. But you didnât want to fuck a horror movie villain because you wanted some harmless dry humping. You wanted him to wreck you. You wanted him to hunt you down and make you his.
âThe game is this,â you began, skipping back a few steps when Bucky lunged for youâthough you noticed he reached for you with his free hand, rather than his knife, which you took as a good sign and grinned wider. âIf you catch me, you can fuck me.â You held his gaze, your smile turning a little feral as you watched the seething villain. âAs hard and as rough as you want.â
Your final words made Bucky pause, like a predator going still right before launching itself at its prey. His electric blue eyes shone brighter, reflecting the neon lights of the carnival as they fall across his handsome face.Â
You could feel the energy in him shift, and even though you couldnât see his mouth, you somehow knew he was grinning. You suspected it was even more feral than your own smile. Â
âYou really are the dumbest fucking slut, little cottontail,â Bucky growled, equal parts humor and menace in his tone, sending a delicious shiver skating down your spine. He took a step forward, his eyes sharp as they watched you skip backward, staying out of reach of his hand and his knife. âYou better not let me catch you, baby, because if I do, Iâm going to make you scream bloody murder as I split you open with my cock.â
The grin on your face was so wide it was beginning to make your cheeks hurt, but you couldnât wipe it away even if youâd tried. Your entire body was buzzing with anticipation, adrenaline already pumping through your veins as you prepared to run. But you couldnât help yourself, you had to taunt Bucky just a little more. If you were only going to get one chance to fuck your horror movie villain crush, you were going to make it count.
âBet you say that to all the girlsâbet none of them can scream like me,â you sassed, bouncing on the balls of your feet and scampering back a few more steps when Bucky took another menacing step forward, his big, heavy boot crunching the grass beneath him.Â
You laughed at his scowling face, the sound loud and wild in the quiet that had fallen over the fairgrounds. Even the music of the carousel had gone silent. But you couldnât hold your tongue. You loved the look of danger on Buckyâs face too much.
âYou gotta catch me first, Mr. Slasher, then weâll see if you can make me scream.â
With that parting challenge, you gave Bucky one last cheeky, impertinent smile, and the you turned and took off.Â
Sprinting off into the Bakersfield Fun Fair, you didnât dare look behind you, knowing instinctively that Bucky would be close on your heels. Your mind raced as you tried to form some kind of plan, since you hadnât thought this far ahead.Â
Of course, you had every intention of letting Bucky catch you, but you didnât want to make it too easy for him. Besides, youâd always wanted to be chased by the hot horror movie villain, then overpowered and taken by the brutal man, so you wanted to make sure you enjoyed yourself as well.
As you turned a corner and began running down a row of carnival rides and games on the edge of the fairground, you spotted the funhouse in front of you. Grinning wildly, you pushed to run a little harder and launched yourself up the metal stairs leading into the funhouse.
There was a spinning barrel right away, and you clambered through it, the silence inside the funhouse swallowing you up as you plunged into the depths of the structure. Hauling yourself up a flight of stairs, you stumbled to a stop when you found that the interior of the funhouse was a maze of mirrors.
Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you began moving through the maze, your hands outstretched to feel your way between the mirrors. Too soon, you heard Buckyâs heavy footsteps on the metal stairs leading up to the level with the maze and you tried to scurry faster, but you kept bumping into mirrors thinking they were a clear path forward.
A deep, dark chuckle echoed through the stuffy room in the funhouse, the sound distorted through Buckyâs mask, making him truly sound like a horror movie villain.Â
The sound of his laugh sent a shiver racing down your spine, your heart rate picking up as you heard his heavy boots begin walking through the maze. It seemed like he was moving much faster than you and you tried to pick up your pace.
âWhen I get my hands on you, little cottontail,â Bucky began, his menacing voice filtering to you easily, sounding like he was right behind you. âYouâre going to regret being such a dumb slutâIâm going to destroy your tight holes with my cock and ruin you until youâre all mine.â
âDonât threaten me with a good time!â you called over your shoulder, just before barreling into another mirror with a defeated, âoof,â as you tried to escape the maze.Â
Huffing in frustration, you turned and went down another path, your panicked breaths so loud in your ears, you couldnât hear Buckyâs footsteps anymore. You bit your lip, trying to stay quiet, but your lungs protested, your pounding heart making you feel the blood pumping through your veins with every step you took.
âIf youâre a good slut, maybe I wonât kill you,â Bucky rumbled, his voice definitely closer than it should be, and you whipped around, looking for the source. But he was no where in sight. âMaybe Iâll keep youâchain you up in my basement, and use your body like the fuck hole you were meant to be.â
You tried to ignore the way your pussy quivered at Buckyâs threat, your body wanting him to do exactly that. But you pushed on, though you were having a harder and harder time remembering why you didnât want him to catch you. Your panties were soaked and your hole was aching to be filled. And Bucky seemed more than willing to fuck you until you were nothing more than the dumb slut he accused you of being.
Rounding a corner, you gasped loudly as the massive form of Bucky Barnes loomed in front of you, his blue eyes immediately finding yours and making you feel like prey trapped by a much larger predator.Â
Spinning on the ball of your foot, you turned and tried to escape in the other direction, only to run head first into Buckyâs chest. His arms closed around you, and you belatedly realized the Bucky youâd seen had been a reflection in one of the mirrors. He wasted no time, squeezing you so tight to his body that you cried out, his strength forcing the air from your lungs. You were caught.
âI win, little cottontail,â Bucky sneered, crushing you harder to his chest while you struggled to breathe, your ribs feeling like they were on the verge of snapping.
Then, suddenly, he let you go and you slumped to your knees, your legs giving out as you fell to the metal floor of the funhouse. Your head was spinning from the lack of air and you focused on pulling as much oxygen into your lungs as possible, the adrenaline in your body making you feel your heartbeat in your temples.Â
While you were distracted, Bucky quickly worked his pants open and before you knew what was happening, his thick, heavy cock fell on your face with a lewd slapping sound. You flinched. But then Buckyâs musky scent filled your nose, and you relaxed. Warmth spread through your body as your mind went fuzzy for an entirely different reason than lack of oxygen.Â
Your mouth fell open instinctively, your head tipping back to press your lips to his girth, and you felt more wetness dripping from your slit between your thighs.Â
Bucky chuckled at your obvious submission, but still used the flat tip of his knife to tip your face back further, until it was practically horizontal. He worked his hips languidly, sliding his cock over your face, precum dripping onto your skin and making a mess of your cheeks and forehead.
âOpen your mouth wider, dumb slut,â Bucky growled, his eyes glittering in the dim funhouse as he stared down at you.Â
When you did as he ordered, sticking your tongue out for good measure, the tip playing with his balls, the horror villain made a pleased sound deep in his chest. You had the distinct impression he was smiling again, and you almost dared to ask him to take off the mask, but decided against it. Part of the fun of fucking Bucky Barnes was him keeping the mask on.Â
âGood girl,â Bucky purred, petting your head with his free hand. He dragged his hips back and pushed the leaking head of his dick into your mouth. âNow, suck.â
The metal flooring of the funhouse dug painfully into your knees, but you pushed the pain from your mind as you focused entirely on Buckyâs cock. Wrapping your lips around the head, you sucked gently, the taste of his precum bursting on your tongue. Your chest warmed with pride when he groaned in pleasure.
Youâd intended to take your timeâwanting to savor Buckyâs cock and learn every inch of the thick, veiny length before making him come in your mouth. But it seemed your horror movie crush didnât have the patience for that. You supposed you shouldnât be surprised. You did make him chase you.Â
âIs that all ya got, little cottontail?â Bucky growled, using the hand on your head to push you down roughly on his cock, making you gag, your hands flailing against his hard thighs. âI thought you were some kind of slutâthought youâd be throating my cock the second you got your lips around it.âÂ
Tears poured down your cheeks as he pushed deeper with a grunt, your fingers curling into fists against his thighs as you tried to open for him. Buckyâs cock forcing its way into your throat stung a little, and you worked to relax your muscles, but they kept squeezing tight, preventing his hard length from sliding all the way in.
Finally, Bucky pulled his cock free from your mouth and you gasped for breath, a hand massaging your throat, the inside feeling raw already. But Bucky didnât seem to care.Â
He bent down over you, grabbing your face in his free hand and using the sharp end of his knife to wipe the tears from your face.Â
âI thought you wanted this, baby,â he rumbled, his tone mocking and patronizing, a laugh in his distorted voice that made you think he was grinning and enjoying your struggle more than he was trying to let on. âYou said I could fuck you as hard and rough as I want.â He paused to tsk at you. âYou canât even take my cock without gaggingâsome slut you are.â
Embarrassment and no small amount of humiliation flooded through you, making you pout. OK so maybe you were more of a slut in theory than in practice, but you did want this. And youâd been trying. Couldnât he see that?
Crossing your arms over your chest, you glared up at Bucky, your lips still pursed in a pout.Â
âYour cock is too big,â you huffed, a hint of a whine in your voice. âLet me try again.â
Bucky laughed, the sound cold and mean, though that only made your pussy drip even more for him. He patted your cheek patronizingly with his knife before fixing you with a hard look.
âYou either take my whole cock in your dumb slut mouth, little cottontail,â he growled, a threat in his tone. âOr Iâll make you take it, ya hear me?â
The menace in his deep voice sent a shiver racing down your spine, settling heavily between your thighs until you had to squeeze them together against the ache in your core. You nodded your understanding. âYes, sir,â you murmured.Â
âGood girl,â came Buckyâs rumbling, terrifying voice. Then he stood up and shoved his cock into your mouth again, so suddenly that all you could do was make a muffled, surprised noise and take it.Â
You bobbed on the hard, thick length of Buckyâs cock, stretching your lips until the edges stung, forcing his girth deep into your mouth. You gagged when the tip pressed against the back of your throat, but you tried to ignore your bodyâs response and work past it. No matter how hard you tried, though, you couldnât get his dick all the way inside your mouth.
After a few minutes of letting you try and watching you fail, Bucky let out an impatient growl before muttering, âLooks like you need me to make you take my cock, baby.â Both his hands grabbed your head and he tilted it back, so your gaze met his. âJust remember, if youâd been a better slut, you wouldnât have made me do this.â
Your eyes widened, tears leaking out the corners as he moved you into the new position he wanted, with your back to one of the mirrors, your head trapped between the hard surface and his cock. Your fingers fisted in the fabric of his pants near his knees, but you didnât protest, just stared up at your horror movie villain, anticipation zipping through your body.
âDonât worry, little cottontail,â Bucky rumbled, and you could tell he was smiling again, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a telltale way. âThis wonât hurt nearly as much as if Iâd slit your throatâbut itâll probably last longer than it wouldâve taken you to bleed out.â
At that ominous comment, your pussy clenched, even more wetness dripping from your pussy and soaking your shorts. You clenched your thighs together, but that was the only part of your body you could move other than your arms. You were helpless to Buckyâs brutality, and you loved it. If his cock wasnât already buried in your mouth, you wouldâve urged him on.
Wasting no more time, Bucky shoved his dick deep into your mouth, pushing past the squeezing muscles in your throat, groaning when you choked and gagged on his thick cock. Your jaw ached and your throat felt raw, but you accepted it, you welcomed it. Buckyâs roughness was only making your pussy wetter, and you couldnât wait until you could feel him sinking into your tight, wet hole.
Still, you couldnât quite control your bodyâs reaction to the intrusion in your throat. Your throat spasmed and you let out a strangled little sound of desperation as it got harder to breathe. You arms flailed and your body tried to escape, only to bang against the mirror behind you. The fact that you were trapped, really trapped, made more tears leak from your eyes.Â
âThatâs it, baby, cry for me while youâre choking on my cock,â Bucky rumbled, holding your head in his hands as he stared down at you, kneeling for him, your throat bulging with his cock. His eyes sparkled like he enjoyed the sight far too much. âYour dumb slut tears are making me harder.âÂ
You felt his cock throb in your throat as proof, but then he was pulling back, only for his hips to snap forward, burying his hard length in your throat all over again. More tears poured down your face, your throat closing on a sob that wrenched a deep, pleasured groan from Bucky.
âFuck, thatâs itâtake it, slut, you might be crying, but you fucking love it, donât you, little cottontail?â Bucky rumbled, breathless laughter in his tone. âYou love letting me use your mouth like my own personal fuck toy, bet your pussyâs dripping onto the floor, making a mess of your thighs like âm gonna make a mess of your face, huh?â
You couldnât help it, you moaned around Buckyâs cock, his words stoking the blazing fire of your arousal. It didnât help matters that he was rightâyour thighs, your shorts and your panties were a mess, all soaked with your desire.Â
Bucky grunted when he felt you moan around his hardness, his hips snapping against your face harder as he pounded into your mouth. His hands held your head in a punishing grip, his cock ramming deep into your throat while the back of your skull was pressed against the mirror behind you.
A whine worked its way up your throat as you squirmed, your pussy pulsing with the need to be filled, to be rubbed, to get some kind of attention. One of your hands fell between your thighs and you rocked against it, your clit rubbing against the seam of your shorts until you were moaning and sobbing around Buckyâs cock.
Suddenly he stopped. âWhatâre you doinâ down there, little cottontail?â he rasped, ducking his head to the side so he could see around his cock and your face. When he caught you with your hand between your thighs, he laughed, his glittering blue eyes finding yours. âOh, I seeâthe dumb little slutâs dripping hole needs some attention, huh?âÂ
Bucky shifted, using his booted foot to kick your thighs apart on the metal floor of the funhouse. Then he shoved his boot between your legs, and jerked his head like he expected you to sit on it.
âYou need something to hump against, donât you, baby?â he asked, his tone mocking. âWell, go âhead. Ride my fucking boot, little cottontail.â His voice was dark and deep, the sound of it making you shiver. But you couldnât pretend you didnât want to follow his order, so you lowered yourself down onto his boot.
The moment your aching core dragged over the laces of Buckyâs boot, you let out a low, filthy moan, the sound muffled by his cock in your mouth. It was exactly the kind of friction you wanted, your clit and messy slit rubbing against the seam of your shorts and the roughness of his laces. Pleasure bloomed, hot and heady, and swirled through your body, overwhelming your mind.
Above you, Bucky groaned, shoving deeper into your throat until your nose was pressed into the thick thatch of hair at the base of his cock and his balls were nestled up against your chin. Spit and precum and tears were leaking down your face, making a mess of your jaw and chin, dripping down to your tits while Bucky watched you with hooded eyes.
âDo that again, baby,â Bucky grunted, holding your head down on his hardness. âMoan like a dumb fucking slut on my cock while I ruin your throat.âÂ
It took little effort to moan again as pleasure and pain swirled through your body, your hips working on Buckyâs boot, grinding your slick cunt against the stiff leather through your panties and shorts. Your clit rubbed over the laces, your mind filling with clouds of bliss as you sank into the feeling of your pussy grinding against Buckyâs boot and his cock fucking your throat.
Bucky was grunting and groaning loudly, his sounds of pleasure a reward for how good your slutty mouth was making him feel. He pounded into your face, his balls slapping against your chin, seeking his release while you humped against his boot, intent on finding your own pleasure while he used you.Â
You were both lost entirely in each other, too focused on seeking pleasure to notice someone else had entered the funhouse. Buckyâs eyes were only for you, and you were staring up too intently into his face, watching pleasure make his eyes go hazy to pay attention to your surroundingsâwhich was the only reason one of the final girlâs friends was able to sneak up on the two of you.
âGet away from her, you monster!â The girlâs shriek was followed closely by the splintering sound of a wooden bat as she swung it at Bucky, and the thing shattering apart against his back. Her face, twisted in fury and determination, quickly shifted to surprise and panic.
For his part, Bucky merely grunted, barely lurching forward as he shoved his cock impossibly deeper in your throat while he bore the attack. But then he was moving quicker than your pleasure-drunk eyes could fully process, your body only aware that he was pulling back until only the tip of him remained on your tongue. Growling furiously, Bucky turned and used his knife to slash the girlâs throat.
You vaguely recognized the girl as one of the characters in Slasher who gets killed at the carnival in the third act, though you couldnât remember which ride Bucky kills her on. Maybe it was the funhouseâthat would explain how she found the two of you.
In that moment, you didnât much care. Youâd been busy with Bucky and you were more than a little annoyed at the interruption. Your body was buzzing with your unslaked need, and you felt horny and frustrated as you turned your attention back to the horror villain above you.
But Buckyâs focus was entirely on the other girl, who was grabbing her throat uselessly, trying to stem the gush of blood as she stumbled into a mirror, leaving a bloody handprint behind. Buckyâs eyes were gleaming as he savored the sight of the dying girl, the corners of his eyes crinkling like he was grinning.
His cock was still in your mouth, but just barely, and the longer he watched the other girl die, the more a pout grew on your lips.Â
After a few long moments of the girlâs death dragging on, youâd had enough. This was your fantasy come to life, and if Bucky wasnât going to pay attention to you and get you off, then you were going to make him.Â
Carefully, you extracted yourself from between Bucky and the mirror youâd been pressed against, your pout only growing when his stiff cock slipped from your lips and he didnât even notice. Quickly, you crawled around the corner and once you were out of sight, you hopped up to your feet so you could move faster.
Your legs felt weak from your earlier running and kneeling on the hard, metal floorânot to mention how close youâd been to coming on Buckyâs boot. But you urged them to work as you moved as quietly as you could through the rest of the maze.
You were already almost to the exit when Bucky finally noticed youâd escaped. His angry roar of, âCOTTONTAIL!â echoed off the mirrors and metal walls inside the funhouse. But his rage only made you snicker. It was his own fault, after all.
âYou shoulda tied me down or paid more attention to me if you didnât want me getting away, Mr. Slasher,â you called over your shoulder, taunting him as you darted around the final corner in the mirror maze, finding your way out. You clambered through the rest of the funhouse, Buckyâs stomping footsteps reverberating around you and making your heart beat faster with fear and excitement.
You slid down the slide that worked as the exit from the funhouse and as soon as your feet hit the grass of the fairground, you sprinted off again. Wracking your brain, you tried to think about where else Bucky kills the final girlâs friends in the final act of Slasher. All you could remember was the ending, with the carousel.
You turned a corner, running in the opposite direction of the carousel and that area of the carnival, not wanting the final girl or anymore of her friends interrupting you once Bucky caught you again.
Sooner than you expected, a leather-clad chest slammed into your back and, within the next breath, you hit the grassy ground as Bucky tackled you. One of his hands wrapped around the front of your throat, his fingers digging into the sides of your neck while he pressed his face into the side of yours.
Even through his hard plastic mask, you could feel his breath on your skin, his hot, heavy breaths gusting past your cheek as he panted like a rabid dog.Â
âI win again, baby,â Bucky growled, his voice even more threatening thanks to the fury in it. He clearly didnât appreciate that youâd made him chase you again, and the coldness in his tone promised that while you might find pleasure in what he was about to do to you, you were also going to feel no small amount of pain.Â
âAnd you can be sure I wonât make the same mistake twice,â he went on, resting more of his weight on your back until you were pinned to the ground beneath him, your body struggling to catch your breath as he crushed your lungs. âNow that I have you, youâre never getting away from me againâyouâre mine, little cottontail.â
Your heart panged in your chest, and it took you a second to realize the feeling was yearning. Because that was the heart of it, wasnât it? You wanted someone to see you at your brattiest, with your darkest desires all laid outâand even seeing your soul bared for them, you wanted them to want to keep you. Part of you wanted to roll over and open your legs for Bucky, tell him you were his forever. But that wasnât really in your nature.
Instead, you huffed a belated laugh, squirming beneath Bucky and fighting against his considerable strength even though you knew it was no good. You werenât going anywhere, and you loved it.
âIâll believe it when I see it, Mr. Slasher,â you taunted, bucking your hips hard. You felt Buckyâs big body jostle just a little and, sensing a glimmer of freedom, you fought harder.Â
Then cold steel replaced Buckyâs hand at your throat and you went still. Despite the fact that heâd used the knife mere moments ago to kill someone else, you were almost certain he wasnât going to do the same to you. Well, pretty certain.
Besides, you were still convinced you were in a dream and dying would only wake you up. But with Buckyâs knife pressed to your neck, you didnât exactly want to test your theory.
The horror movie villain chuckled, his chest rumbling against your spine and his breath ghosting over your cheek.Â
âThatâs the first smart thing youâve done all night, little cottontail,â he murmured, his voice so dark and deep, it made you shiver.Â
He dug the steel of his knife into your throat, using his other hand to guide you up onto your hands and knees. Buckyâs big body was curled over yours, his hand reaching beneath you to grope your tits while he groaned against the side of your face.Â
âSuch soft tits, baby,â he grunted as his fingers kneaded your flesh through your tank top. Then his hand was diving under the fabric to pinch your nipples, making you cry out and arch your back. âYeah, thatâs it, ya dumb slut, let me hear how much you like having a monster like me playing with your tits.â
You whimpered when he pinched your nipple hard and shook your breast, the sting of pain and pleasure consuming your mind and making you grind back against his thick cock, which heâd tucked back into his pants. An impatient whine tumbled from your lips and it was on the tip of your tongue to beg Bucky to fuck you, but it seemed he was just as eager to get on with it.
Skimming his hand down your body, Bucky found the button of your shorts and quickly undid them. He sat up on his knees, dragging you with him and keeping his knife at your throat.Â
He shoved your shorts and panties down roughly past your ass to your thighs, then dipped his hand between your legs. A loud groan rumbled in his chest when he realized how wet you were.Â
âFuck, you really are a slut, arenât you, baby?â he taunted in a mocking tone, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. His fingers slipped between your drenched folds and all you could do to answer him was moan as he teased your pussy. âIâm gonna fill up this slick cunt, little cottontail,â he rumbled in your ear, a promise ringing in his words. âIâm gonna destroy your tight hole until youâre nothing more than my dumb, cock-drunk slut.â
Between Buckyâs fingers playing with your pussy and his words wreaking havoc on your pleasure-soaked mind, you were desperate for him to follow through on his promise.Â
Suddenly, youâd had enough of the game youâd been playing with Bucky and you wanted him to finallyâfinallyâfuck you.
âPlease, Bucky, please, please, fuck me,â you sobbed, tears leaking from your eyes and down your cheeks as you rocked your ass against his hard cock. âPlease, god, I need itâI need you.â
For a moment, Bucky was silent and unmoving. Then he was shoving you forward into the grass so you were back on your hands and knees. His knife just barely grazed the side of your neck as you fell forward, and you whimpered at the light sting of it.
The next thing you knew, Buckyâs cock was slapping against your bare ass, and he was lining himself up with your soaked, fluttering pussy. Your fingers dug into the grass, preparing yourself to hold on for dear life.
âRemember, little cottontail, you said I could fuck you as hard and rough as I want,â Bucky rumbled, sliding his cock between your legs, coating his thick length in your desire. âIf itâs too much for you, you can scream all you want, but Iâm not stopping until Iâve filled your cunt with all the come in my balls.â
You could hear the laughter in Buckyâs voice, but didnât have time to respond to his words because in the next second, he shoved himself all the way inside you with one thrust.
Buckyâs thick, hard cock slammed deep into your tight pussy, and a scream wrenched free from your lips, making your already raw throat hurt even more. But it was the delicious kind of pain that mixed perfectly with the feeling of Bucky filling you up for the first time.Â
His girth was bigger than anyone or any toy youâd taken before, and it felt like you were being split apart, your insides rearranging to make room for his huge cock. It was only because you were so wet that it didnât really hurt, but the sting of the stretch was enough to send your mind reeling, your thoughts scattering until the only thing that mattered was Buckyâs cock inside you and his body behind you.
Bucky made a noise that was half groan, half growlâsounding entirely feral behind his mask as his hands dug into your hips. You could feel him still holding his knife, but the steel wasnât pressed against your skin so you didnât give it much thought.
âGod, thatâs a tight fucking cunt ya got here, cottontail,â he rasped, pulling back and slamming forward so hard, your arms shook and you nearly collapsed face first into the grass. âFeel like you were fucking made for me, babyâmade to be my fuck hole, made to take my cock.â
True to his word, the horror movie villain rutted into you hard, paying no mind to your pleasure, just taking his own. But that was exactly how you liked it, and you couldnât help the litany of desperate moans and whimpers that tumbled past your lips.Â
Before long, your arms gave out and your cheek pressed to the grass, which was cool against your face. The position made your back arch and your ass stick up in the air. Bucky made a pleased sound, slapping your ass in a gesture that almost felt like praise.
âYeah, take it like a slut, baby,â he growled, pounding into you harderâhard enough you could feel your ass and hips and thighs ripple with the force of his thrusts. âThis is how dumb sluts are meant to be fucked.â
You whined at the searing pleasure of Buckyâs cock hammering into your cunt, and you arched your back further, giving him easier access to drive even deeper into you from behind. Your reward was another hard slap on your assâthat time with the cold flat steel of Buckyâs knife. You squealed, then moaned as the sharp sting devolved into even more pleasure.
Bucky laughed, the sound wild and dark. Then he curled his body over yours, dropping the knife in the grass so he could grab wrap one of his hands around your throat while the other groped your tits.Â
âYouâre mine, little cottontail,â he growled in your ear. âI own your body now, and youâre going to be my personal fuck toy for the rest of your life.â He rutted into you, hard and rough, his hips slapping against your ass mixing with the sounds of your wet pussy being fucked. âIâm gonna chain you up in my basement, and youâre gonna be my basement slutâmy little cottontailâforever.â
It was impossible to nod, and impossible to speak, with how tightly Bucky had you pinned beneath him while he fucked you. So you wrapped a hand around his wrist, not pulling him away, but squeezing hard enough that you could feel his pulse thrumming beneath your thumb. You clung to him, telling him wordlessly that you were submitting to him, tears gathering in your lashes as pleasure overwhelmed you.
âFuck,â Bucky grunted, pounding you hard and fast, the hard plastic of his mask digging into the side of your face. âCry for me, cottontail, you know it makes me harder.âÂ
His fingers dug into the sides of your throat while his other hand tortured your nipples, tugging and pinching them, until your tears began leaking from your eyes. Bucky ducked forward, nuzzling your tear-stained cheek through his mask, groaning as he hit a spot inside of you that made your whole body clench and your mouth drop open in a soundless scream.
âI can feel your cunt choking my cock, baby,â Bucky rumbled in your ear. âYou really love everything Iâm doing to you, donât you, dumb slut?â His hips pressed against your ass and he started grinding his cock deep in your core, the tip brushing against that spot inside you that made you see stars.
âYes, yes, Bucky, yes,â you sobbed, your words breathless and soft and only able to escape because heâd loosened his hold on your throat slightly. But then he tightened his fingers again and you made a desperate little gasping sound.
Bucky laughed, the sound evil and mocking, and your cunt pulsed again. He refocused on fucking you, pounding into you and chasing his own pleasure. You tried to scream, the pleasure nearly mind-blowing, but his hand on your throat made sure you could only make the barest of noises.
âYouâre gonna come on my cock, little cottontail,â Bucky rumbled, his hard plastic mask chafing against your sensitive cheek. âYouâre gonna come and show me that youâre mine, that you accept your new lifeâand me as your master.â
Your fingers squeezed his wrist again in understanding, and then you couldnât think anymore. Buckyâs cock was pounding into your pussy hard enough to almost hurt, pleasure pulsing through your body as he plucked and played with your tits. Your head was going fuzzy from a lack of air, but that just made everything else feel better and more.
When Buckyâs hand abandoned your tits to slip between your thighs, it only took a few strokes of his fingers against your clit to set you off. At the same moment, Buckyâs hand loosened around your throat, and oxygen flooded your lungs as you came on his cock.Â
It was almost an out-of-body experience, coming on the thick length of your horror movie villain crush, your mind going entirely blank as your body tried to process all the pleasure and sensation flooding through it. A loud, piercing scream sounded in your ears and it took a second to realize it was spilling from your own lips.Â
Buckyâs hand tightened around your throat again, tighter than before, cutting off the sound of your pleasure while he grunted and groaned above you. He was rutting into you as your walls squeezed his cock, taking his pleasure as he prolonged yours.
Blackness was starting to creep into the edges of your vision when he finally roared loudly, his cock throbbing inside you as he spilled his come deep in your pussy. His fingers dug into the sides of your throat harder, choking you through his orgasm as your body fluttered with the last waves of your release.Â
The last thing you heard was Bucky muttering, âGood girl, take my come, little cottontail,â as he pumped you full of his thick, sticky seed. Then, there was nothing but comforting darkness, and you sank into it, feeling satisfied and happy as you passed out in the arms of your horror movie villainâŠ
Now, the choice is yours, dear reader. Do you want to stay with Bucky Barnes and live in the world of Slasher? If so, read on for the dark ending! Or do you want to wake up and meet someone a little less psychotic? If so, skip down to the fluffy ending!
Slasher - Dark Ending
dark ending additional warnings: dubcon, somnophilia, slightly painful sex, basement wife-ing, references to Bucky's arm amputation, Bucky is even more psychotic
You were woken by your body jostling against concrete, an aching mix of pleasure and pain radiating between your thighs. The slick sounds of fucking met your ears and, belatedly, you realized you were impaled on a cock, the thickness of it stretching your tight hole to its limit.Â
Your inner thighs felt chafed and your back hurt from the position you were contorted in, your shoulders propped up against a cinderblock wall while you were folded in half at the waist, a heavy body pinning your legs to your chest while they fucked you. You were naked and a little cold, but the body against you was warm.
Blinking your eyes open, you were met with the sight of Buckyâs handsome face contorted with pleasure as he fucked you. There was a new glimmer in the depths of his blue eyesâsomething wild and feral and more than a little frightening. His mouth spread into a savage grin when he saw you were awake.
âThereâs my little cottontail,â he rumbled before ducking down and kissing your cheek in a gesture that wouldâve been sweet if not for his stubble roughing over your sensitive skin. You whimpered softly at the abrading feeling, your pussy pulsing despite your exhaustion.
When he pulled back, the sound of chains rattling above you finally caught your attention and you looked up, finding your wrists shackled above your head and bolted into the wall of the basement. Dim morning light was filtering in through windows set high in the walls, and you couldnât make out much beyond the shadow of the stairs leading up to the first floor.
Before you could gather you wits enough to ask a question, or wade through your confusion to figure out what question you should even ask, Bucky slammed deep inside you, wringing a weak moan from you. It was only then that you realized heâd been taking it easy on you while you were asleep, but since you were awake, he started fucking you harder. Pleasure, pain and bewilderment warred with the tiredness of just waking up as you tried to think.Â
Your eyes slid closed while you tried to block out Bucky and your surroundings. You needed to figure out why you werenât in your grandmotherâs basement, having woken up from the dream youâd been sure you were having.
But Bucky didnât like that. His weight settled more heavily on top of you, making your hips ache in protest, and grabbed your face roughly in his hand.Â
âLook at me, cottontail,â he rumbled, shaking your head until your eyes fluttered open again.
Tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes and your mouth worked, trying to find the words for how you felt. Youâd wanted thisâwanted someone like Bucky who saw who you really were and still wanted to keep you. But now that you were actually chained up in his basement, you wondered if maybe youâd jumped in the deep end without being able to swim.Â
âDonât look so confused, baby,â Bucky growled in a patronizingly sweet tone, thumbing your tears from your cheeks and making you flinch as the salt of them irritated your skin. âI told you I was never letting you goâyou knew this was going to happen.â He was grinding his cock deep into your well-used cunt, the pleasure almost painful. âNow that youâre chained up in my basement, you have no hope of ever escaping from me again.â
The head of his cock battered against your cervix and you cried out, your head thumping against the cinderblock wall behind you. The pain mixed with the pleasure of thick length rubbing against your sensitive inner walls until your mind was spinning.Â
You just couldnât wrap your head around it. You really hadnât known this was going to happen. Youâd thought you were dreaming and were going to wake up after youâd fucked Bucky Barnes, but apparently that wasnât the case. Apparently youâd really somehow been transported into the world of Slasher.
âThank me for keeping you, little cottontail,â Bucky growled, wringing another pleasured whimper from you as he kept grinding his cock into you. âAfter all, it wasnât easy getting you here after that bitch crushed my arm.â His voice was dripping venom and he rocked his hips harder, forcing tears from your eyes as his cock battered your cervix.
It was only then that you understood why so much of Buckyâs weight was resting on you while his hand held your face. Darting your eyes to Buckyâs shoulder, there was a thick, bloody bandage wrapped around the place where he mustâve amputated his arm after the final girl had crushed it in the carousel gears.Â
Your stomach rolled at the sight, empathy for Bucky surging through you. It really couldnât have been easy getting you back to his house when he was injured like that.Â
But before you could follow the order heâd given you, Bucky yanked your face back to look at him. He ducked closer, so all you could see were his eyes, wild and psychotic, boring into your own.
âThank your master for keeping you!â he growled harshly.
Your heart panged, and you rushed to do as he said. âTh-thank you for keeping me, Bucky,â you cried, tears streaming down your face, your voice filled with genuine gratitude. âThank you, master!âÂ
The anger leeched out of Bucky at your words and your tears, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you.Â
âGood girl,â he purred, nuzzling your cheek in reward and kissing your jaw with his soft lips. âMy good, dumb slutâyouâre going to make such a good basement wife for me.â
A small, confused noise squeaked out of you and Bucky pulled back, a grin on his face. He nodded up toward your hands and you twisted them in your shackles, finding shiny, silver metal glinting off your left ring finger. You sucked in a gasp, feeling speechless as your mind failed to process another shocking revelation in so little time.
âYour dream is coming true, baby,â Bucky rumbled, licking the tears from your cheeks, taking your silence as understanding and submission. âYouâre going to be my own personal fuck holeâmy pretty little dumb slutâfor the rest of your life.â
Bucky canted his hips, grinding his cock into the depths of your pussy while the base of him rubbed against your clit and the pleasure that had been winding tighter in your core suddenly snapped. You came with a loud, sobbing scream, your head thrown back against the wall of the basement as tears cascaded down your cheeks while you succumbed to the pleasure, your cunt greedily squeezing Buckyâs cock.
A small part of you wanted to black out again, hoping youâd wake up back in your grandmotherâs basement, unsure if you had what it took to be the full-time fuck toy of your favorite horror movie villain. But somehow you knew that wouldnât happen.
Whatever had transported you into the world of Slasher seemed to be a one-way ticket, and youâd made your choices. The fact that you were at the mercy of Bucky Barnes was no oneâs fault but your own.
And yet, you couldnât bring yourself to regret anything youâd done. After all, youâd gotten exactly what you wantedâyou got to fuck Bucky Barnes. And if you had your way, youâd fuck Bucky Barnes every day until you died. Which was good, since that seemed to be exactly what he had planned for you.
Just then, Bucky grunted, his cock twitching inside you and he slammed deep, grabbing your face and pulling you in for a messy kiss while he came, coating your insides with his seed. His lips were hard and demanding, but you werenât some wilting flowerâyou nipped his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.Â
Buckyâs cock throbbed inside you as he chuckled, kissing you again, the taste of his blood bursting on your tongue as you devoured each other.Â
When he pulled away and collapsed on top of you, a satisfied smile curved your lips. You glanced up at the ring on your finger again, thinking it wouldnât be so bad to be Bucky Barnesâ basement wife.Â
Slasher - Fluffy Ending
fluffy ending additional warnings: talk about past roleplay, some potentially risky decisions on reader's part, that's really it
You awoke with a start, the loud, chiming sound of the doorbell echoing through your grandmotherâs house and dragging you back to reality from the depths of your dream. A faint soreness permeated your body, and you frowned, the memory of your dream clinging to the edges of your mind. Â
Groggily, you opened your eyes to find you were curled up on the familiar rug in the basement of your grandmotherâs house, and you suspected the hard floor was likely the cause of your soreness. Still, you felt a faint tingling all over, the remnants of pleasure from your dream and you smiled as you stretched languidly, easing most of the aches in your limbs.
The doorbell chimed again, and you dragged yourself up, wiping drool from your cheek as you pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself and climbed the stairs up to the first floor. On your way to the door, you checked the time, finding it was nearly midnight, and wondered who was stopping by so late. All your relatives and all your grandmotherâs friends would be asleep.
Flicking on the porch light, you opened the front door, but the left the screen door latched when you found a strange man standing there. The frigid autuman night air wrapped around you, and you crossed your arms over your chest to stave off a shiver.Â
âHey Mrsââ The man had been standing with his back to you, facing the street, and swung around when he heard the door open. But he paused when he saw you, his greeting cutting off as if heâd been expecting someone else.Â
A distant corner of your brain pointed out that of course he was expecting someone elseâyou were answering the door at your grandmotherâs house.
But you couldnât pay attention to your mindâs logic because you were silently freaking out. The man looked almost exactly like Bucky Barnes.Â
He had the same sparkling blue eyes, though there wasnât any of the cold hatred that haunted your favorite horror movie villain. And his mouth was curved into a charming smile, which you knew for certain youâd never see on the version of Bucky from Slasher. The manâs hair was also shorter, and the stubble on his jaw was a little less scruffy, like heâd shaved that morning and it had grown out since then. The style really worked for him.Â
He was somehow even more attractive than Bucky Barnes. You didnât know how that was possible, but apparently it was.Â
The man shifted on his feet, running a hand through his hair, looking a little abashed.Â
âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to disturb ya,â he said, a slight Brooklyn accent in his voice. âSometimes I borrow some ground coffee from the lady who lives here when Iâve run out.â He shot you a sheepish smile and shrugged. âAnd Iâve run out.â
âOh,â you said, a little dumbly. âYou must be talking about my grandmother.â Your surprise over the manâs resemblance to Bucky was wearing off, and you found that his smile was infectious. He had a charm to him that made you want to tell him more than you should, which mustâve been why you found yourself saying, âSheâs on a cruise, and Iâm watching her house.â
It mightâve been a mistake to tell a strange man that much, but instead of doing anything to make you second-guess yourself, he just smacked a hand against his forehead. The gesture was so endearing, you couldnât help but laugh, warming to him even more.Â
âYouâre right! She told me about that.â He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over your faceâhopefully not finding any traces of drool on your chinâand his eyes softened. âSorry again to bother you, your granâs normally up watching one of those late shows, I hope I didnât wake you.â
You snorted to yourself. Of course your grandmother was known for staying up later than you. But you didnât want the man to feel bad. It wasnât like he woke you up before you came on dream Buckyâs cock.Â
âNo, no, itâs fine,â you said, shaking your head and smiling softly to let him know it really was fine. Again, you had the urge to say more to him than you normally would to a stranger. So, before you could hold your tongue, you blurted, âDo you know you look exactly like the villain from this old horror movie?âÂ
Even in the dim yellow light of the porch, you could see the manâs cheeks turn pink while he scrubbed a hand over his jaw. But he was hiding a smile behind his palm and when he caught your eye, there was humor in the depths of his gaze.
âYeah, I get that sometimes,â he said, his voice suddenly lower. âBucky Barnes from Slasher, right?âÂ
You nodded, almost mesmerized as you stared into his eyes. âI had the biggest crush on him,â you admitted, because apparently the filter between your brain and mouth had been left on the rug in your grandmotherâs basement. But the man only chuckled, the light flush fading from his face.
âDid you now?â he asked, his eyes shimmering with humor as he looked at your face, his gaze raking over the curve of your lips. He shifted closer to the door and a shiver skated down your spine at the way he loomed over you. âYâknow, my friends have called me Bucky ever since we watched that movie one summer when were idiot kids.â
âY-your nameâs Bucky?â you asked, excitement making your voice come out like a whisper.Â
The man looked to the side and chuckled, the sound low and rich and making you want to giggle ridiculously and kick your feet. When his gaze found yours again, his eyes were sparkling with playfulness and something more; his mouth was curved into a devastatingly charming grin.
âNo, my name is James Barnes, but pretty much everyone calls me Bucky.â He watched you absorb this information, shifting even closer to the door until you could feel the warmth of him seeping through the screen. âWould you like to call me Bucky, pretty girl?â he asked, his voice pitching so low and deep, you could feel it between your thighs.
Your shoulders trembled as you shivered, nodding eagerly as you whispered, âYes, please.â
Bucky rumbled a pleased sound, and his hand raised toward the screen, like he was reaching for you. But then he paused, as if catching himself. Huffing a laugh, he drew his hand back and wiped it down his face, seemingly forcing himself to straighten and take a step back.Â
You almost whined in protest, but caught yourself at the last second, biting your lip against a frown as he moved away. You hadnât realized how close the two of you had drifted to each other through the door until he was pulling away. You understood it was probably weird, the way you were acting with each other considering you just met, but the chemistry between you was palpable, and you desperately wanted to explore it as soon as possible.
âI probably shouldnât tell you this, but I have the mask,â Bucky confessed, breaking you free from your thoughts.Â
You were glad for it, because he was giving you another loaded look and you felt your belly swoop, butterflies taking flight as he smiled at you. It took a second to process his words, and when you did, you couldnât help the impish grin that spread across your face. You gestured for him to go on.
âI bought it for a girl I was seeing who said she wanted to roleplay,â he went on, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looking off to the side again, like he knew he wasnât supposed to be telling this to a girl he just met, but couldnât help himself. âBut I think I scared her off.â He turned his penetrating gaze back to you, pinning you in place while you held your breath. âYou donât strike me as the kind of girl who scares easily.â
You snorted again and tossed your head. That was an understatement, if your dream was any indication of your desiresâwhich it was. You gave the man called Bucky a cheeky smile. âNo, Iâm definitely not,â you told him, a hint of a challenge in your tone.
For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other. Then, you made a slightly reckless decision. Your hand reached for the latch of the screen door and pushed it open, all while holding his gaze.Â
âWhy donât you come in and get that coffee you needed,â you offered, hoping your instincts about Bucky were right, and he would turn out to be exactly the kind of man you wanted in your life. Besides, you told yourself, your grandmother liked him well enough to lend him some coffeeâand you trusted her judgement so he must be a decent guy. âAnd you can tell me what about your roleplay frightened off that girl.â
Buckyâs smile spread into a full-on grin, and he eagerly grabbed the door, opening it wider while he stepped forward. When you didnât move back right away and instead allowed him to step into your personal space, his gaze dropped to your mouth, his eyes darkening and the corners of his mouth twitching in another smile.
âDeal,â he rumbled. âSo long as you tell me more about this crush of yours.â
The memories of your dream flitted through your mind, feeling more real than any dream youâd ever had before, and you found you couldnât wait to tell Bucky about it. The man in front of you was warmer and kinder than the one youâd met in your dreams, but you had a feeling he had a dark side that liked to come out to playâjust like you.Â
âDeal.â After you said the word, you felt as if something truly special was beginning and your heart raced with excitement as you stared up into Buckyâs handsome face. Both of you were grinning like idiots.
Finally taking a step back, you welcomed Bucky into your grandmotherâs house, knowing deep in your bones that you were going to be in each otherâs lives for a very long timeâpossibly even forever. And you couldnât help but think that having this Bucky Barnes was even better than dreaming about your horror movie villain crush. After all, at least he was real.
#slashersummerwc#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#dark bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#horror movie au#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan#sebastian stan characters#witchywithwhiskeywork
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daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.
ïč đŹ ïč ă ââââđ¶đł đđŒđ đđČđżđČ đșđ đčđ¶đđđčđČ đŽđ¶đżđč,
preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, heâs here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?
or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?
meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader
genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.
word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.
warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.
theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..
RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%
"iâm home!â slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point youâve practically come to the conclusion youâre home alone, but one can never be too careful.
a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.
the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,âwho are you?!-â standing up and turning around to face you,âjay?â
âgod y/n, youâre gonna make me deaf,â he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.
âyou got home early today, i thought youâd be out for two more hours?â his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.
âuh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,â you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what heâs doing in here.
âoh okay, thatâs good,â taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirtâs sleeves on the way,âwhat do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,â he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.
his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,âwhat? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?â you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.
âtaking care of you,â jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,âtechnically, babysitting,â
âbabysitting? me? but,â it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you donât? your mindâs mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you donât remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. thereâs no way heâs serious.. right?
âdoll, didnât your parents tell you theyâre gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while theyâre gone,â what.
yes these past few days when you couldnât catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you wouldâve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.
âno?â the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.
âthatâs okay, now you know,â trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought youâd like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.
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#( đ©° ) đđđđđČ đąđŹđŹđźđđŹ đŠđČ đ„đąđđđ„đ đ đąđ«đ„!#enhypen imagines#enhypen smut#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen oneshots#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jay smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen scenarios#enhypen heeseung imagines#enhypen heeseung smut#enhypen sunghoon imagines#enhypen sunghoon smut#enhypen jake imagines#enhypen jake smut#enhypen x you#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen drabbles#enhypen headcanons#enhypen reactions
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The CompanyÂ
Sisters in San FranciscoÂ
Smut (Deep penetration, forced creampie, doggy style, cowgirl, sister sex)
Chapter 16
4,340 WordsÂ
(Jessica asks you to visit her during the Lunar New Year. She also asks you to bring her sister, who dislikes you for getting her sister pregnant.)
âYouâre coming to my place for Lunar New Year, right?â
âYeah, I just need to take care of some things, and I can fly out tomorrow.â
âAlso, can I ask you for a favor?â
âWhat is it?â
âWould you mind taking my sister?â
âDoesnât she hate me?â
âYeah, but there are no last-minute flights. Can you please take her?â
â Okay, I will, but if she complains, Iâll like her out of the plane myself.â
âThank you, thank you! Let me get in contact with her and send her your details.â
âââ
The flight from Seoul to San Francisco was surprisingly a calm one. Krystal was fairly calm and kept to herself while you remained on the other side of the plane.Â
âGood Morning, everyone. It is 7:30 in the morning in San Francisco, California. We will be touching down in ten minutes. When we arrive, the care will be waiting for you all. Hope you enjoyed the flight, and we await your return.â
The plane arrives at the hangar, the door opens, and you are greeted by your chauffeur, âWelcome to San Francisco, sir.â
âThank you.â
The chauffeur opens the door, helps with your belongings, and enters the car. âWhere to sir?â
âLetâs head to Ms. Jungâs place.â
âAs you wish.â
Krystal stares out the window, seeing their old home after not visiting for a while. Meanwhile, you text Jessica about your arrival from the airport, and the two of you heading to her house.Â
âSee you soon.â
The ride to Pacific Heights is a smooth one, the sights of the Bay Area as you neared the house. The closer you got there, the bigger the Golden State Bridge looked. âWe are arriving, sir.â
The car pulls towards the front of the house and parks. The chauffeur opens the car, and you see Jessica open the door and exit. Krystal runs towards Jessica and gives her a hug, âHow are you, Jess? Howâs the baby?âÂ
âThe baby is great. Growing pretty fast.â
âHow was the plane ride?â
âIt was okay; I behaved like you asked.â
Jessica looks towards my direction and asks, âHow was she?â
âShe was insufferable, but you know me, I managed.â
âHeâs lying.â
âI know; he messaged me earlier and said you were good. Heâs just teasing you.â
âWell⊠I donât like it,â turning around and glaring at you.Â
The three of you enter the house to drop off your bag, âI found a place to have breakfast. We can head out in a bit if youâre all good.â
âIâm fine. Can I take a shower beforehand?â
âSure, you can shower in the guest room.â
You walk the flight of stairs, take your bags to the guest room, and shower. Once youâre ready, you see Jessica and Krystal coming out of the room next to you, âYou look nice.â
âThanks.â
âOh, by the way. I finished the nursery room that I mentioned to you before. Want to see?â
âSure.â
She opens the door, and the color catches your eye. Everything in the room is cream in color, including the crib, furniture, and even the stuffed animals that are a shade dark. âWhat do you think?â
âIt looks great.â
âThanks, I wanted something simple and minimalistic. It took me a while for me to choose what I wanted.â Jessica gives you a small tour, showing you the clothes, toys, and the scrapbook she made for the baby.Â
You look at Jessica and see how happy she is, which hits you: youâre going to have a child with her. Her belly is much bigger from the last time you saw her, and her breasts have also gotten bigger, but her beauty is still the same.Â
âWhy are you staring at me like that?â she asks.
âYouâre so pretty, I couldnât help myself.â
Jessica blushes at your response and covers her face.
âEw, donât do that while Iâm here. If you are, you should get a room or something,â says Krystal.
âMaybe we should,â looking at Jessica. She turns to the side, trying to hide her reaction, but the redness on the tip of her ears makes it obvious.Â
âAlright, letâs change the subject and go have breakfast,â says Jessica.
Breakfast goes well, and the three of you enjoy the view and listening to the stories that Jessica has to share. Most of them are about her experiences throughout her pregnancy and her work life.Â
After breakfast, you all go for a walk around Chinatown and see the events of the day. You see the two sisters bonding and having fun, and it reminds you of your own family.Â
After a few hours, Jessica says, âLetâs head back; my feet are killing me.â You agree and take them back to the house. Itâs already evening, and you have all decided to have dinner.Â
âWant me to cook, or should we order in?â
âYouâre tired, so letâs order in.âÂ
Krystal then says, âLet me order, I know a place that has good food.â
âOkay, Krystal.â
Jessica looks at you and says, âLetâs go to the deck and watch the sunset with me.âÂ
âOkay, letâs go.â You help her out of the chair and walk out onto the deck. The two of you sit on a large couch, and puts her back against your chest.
âHow have you actually been?â
âTired, my feet hurt constantly, and Iâm craving food a lot. Itâs all your fault.â
âHaha, itâs both our fault, not just me.â
âYouâre the one who got me pregnant.â
âTrue, but remember you were the one begging me to cum insideâŠâ
Her head recalls the memory of those nights of sex. The number of times she got pumped full of baby batter made her face turn red.
âYouâre thinking of it, huh.â
âNo!â
You grab her and put her in between your legs, rubbing her thighs and whispering, âRemember how wet you got when I was fucking you that night?â
You slide your hand inside her dress, gliding your hand across her thigh as you kiss the side of her neck. She shivers at the slightest touch, âItâs been a while, huh.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âSince we last fucked.â
You continue to glide your hand until you reach her panties, pulling them aside. Jessica moans slightly to your touch, a feeling she hasnât felt in a while.
âDonât⊠Krystal might walk inâŠâ
âThatâs fine, let her walk in,â tracing your fingers against her folds. You feel her tremble the deeper you go, collecting nectar from the source.
âPleaseâŠâ squeezing her thighs together.
âYouâre so wet; you missed this, right?â
âYes⊠itâs much more different when itâs real.â
You notice her heart beat faster and go in for a kiss. She finally lets loose and doesnât care if her sister walks in. âBabe, I want you⊠I need youâŠâ
Teasing her, you ask, âWhat do you want me to do?â
âYouâre really going to make me say it huh.â
âYes, I want to hear you say it.â
She whispers in your ear, âI want you to fuck me; I want to feel your cock inside me.â
âYouâre bad, what about the baby?â
âDonât worry, Iâm stable.âÂ
You press your fingers deeper until they disappear, âAhh, aah, just like that. Keep going.â
Just then, Krystal walks out, âThe food is here!â She looks at the both of you, her sister grinding as you have your hand inside her dress. âEww! You two are disgusting; get a room,â and walks out completely flushed.
âKrystal, wait!â
âDonât; she needs to understand that you have needs too.â
âI guess youâre right.â
You pull out your fingers and show her the amount of nectar you collected, âDo you think itâs healthy being this backed up?â
âNo, itâs just that regular toys donât work; itâs not the same as the real thing.â
âHow about later tonight, I help you out?â, giving her a wink.
âIâd love that.â
The two of you walk to the kitchen and see Krystal setting up the table. She tries to avoid eye contact with the two of you initially, but after Jessica apologizes, they make up.
After dinner, you all play a couple of games to break the ice between you and Krystal. Youâre surprised by how obedient she is to Jessica, but you assume itâs because of their close relationship and her pregnancy.Â
âOkay, I'm tired, Krystal. Letâs call it a night.âÂ
âGood night, Iâll clean up here.âÂ
Standing up from the table, Jessica grabs your hand and whispers, âIâm going to shower; come help me.â The two of you walk upstairs as Krystal tries to think of something else.Â
After taking a shower, she spends some time in the living room watching some videos. She looks at her phone, realizing how late it is, and decides to head up the stairs to her room.Â
As she gets to the second floor, she notices noises coming from the opposite side of her hallway. Curious, she makes her way towards the master bedroom and hears her sister moan. She puts her eye through the small slit and sees her sister in skimpy lingerie riding you.Â
âAhh ahh, this is what I was missing. I missed your cock inside of me.âÂ
Krystal was hypnotized by the way her older sister rode you, her pregnant cunt holding your cock tightly every time she bounced. Her swollen belly didnât stop her from getting her needs satisfied.Â
âYou feel so big inside of meâŠâ
âAre you okay? Want to switch up a bit?â
âOkay, let me get a pillow.âÂ
Jessica unmounts you and gets on the pillow you placed before her. Using it as support, she lays on top of it and gets on all fours.Â
Krystalâs eyes go wide when she catches a glimpse of your massive cock, wondering if it would hurt the baby.
âJessica, are you ready?â
âYes⊠just put it inside, donât make me wait.â
You slap your cock against her ass cheek and align it in front of her entrance. Her leaking cunt welcomes you once more as it easily spreads for your length.Â
âYes⊠thatâs it⊠fuck⊠so big.â
âOmg, how does unnie fit that massive thing in her?â
You grab Jessicaâs hips and insert the rest of your cock until she cries out from pleasure, âfuck, youâre hitting my baby room.âÂ
She turns her head and says, âPut your weight on me and fuck me nice and slow; I want to feel it.â
Krystal sees her sister disappear under your frame; she moves her fingers toward her lower area and notices how damp her shorts are.
She loses track of time as she rubs her fingers against her shorts when she hears you warn Jessica, âIâm going to cum.â
âDo it inside; fill my baby room with your cum.â
You pull most of your cock out, only leaving the tip before sliding yourself back inside. Jessica groans from her walls being scraped and stretched, âYes, just like that. Fill me, please!â
You hold her tightly as a stream of cum floods her womb, her walls tightening, taking every drop of cum as delicious nutrients.
Krystal watches as you pull out your cock, a large white load of cum oozing out her sister's cunt and onto her sheets. Jessica's expression was one of satisfaction after not having met her needs since the beginning of her pregnancy.Â
You head to the bathroom and clean up while Jessica remains on the bed, completely filled. She turns around and sees her sister looking through the door. She greets her with a smile. Wanting to tease her, she spreads her legs wider, giving her a better view of her leaking cunt.Â
On the other side, Krystal gets startled from getting caught by her sister. She sees you come out of the bathroom when Jessica says, âUp for round two?â
You reply, âI thought you were tired.â
âI am, but I want you inside me.âÂ
âAlright, but letâs try to keep it down since your sister is going to nag at me if weâre too loud.â
âDonât worry about Krystal, this is my house. I can do whatever I want here,â she said as she looked directly at her.Â
âThatâs why I like you,â as you go in for a kiss. âLet me go downstairs and get something to drink. Want anything?â
âJust water is fine.âÂ
You put on some shorts and head to the door. Krystal immediately stands up and runs to her room. She lies in her room, imagining her sister going at it, round after around throughout the night.Â
ââÂ
Krystal walks down the stairs after having a hard time sleeping. She couldnât get the image of last night out of her room and ended up rubbing one out.Â
âGood morning, Krystal.âÂ
âGood morning, unnie.âÂ
âWhereâs your baby daddy?âÂ
âDonât call him that; try to be nice to him.â
âWhatever.âÂ
âHe went out for a run. Said heâll be back in an hour.âÂ
âOkay, Iâll eat a quick breakfast and head out. Iâm going to meet some friends.â
âAre you avoiding him because of last night?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âYou knowâŠâ
Krystalâs ears turn beet red, âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âOkay, maybe Iâm wrong⊠have fun with your âfriendâŠâÂ
It is then when the door opens, and the two of them stand next to each other, âWelcome back,â giving you a small rag to wipe yourself.
âWow, you worked up quite a sweat,â she said, touching her abs and arms as she looked at her sister. âMight ask for another round later on tonight,â and chuckles.â
âWait⊠your sister is here.â
âDonât worry, she doesnât mind, right?â
You look at Krystal and see her beet-red ears, âWhatever, do what you want.â
âSeeâŠâ
âIâm going to go change; my friend is going to pick me up soon,â and goes upstairs.Â
You look back at Jessica and ask, âOhh, I didnât know she was going out.â
âSame, maybe one of her girlfriends.â
âToo bad, with her attitude, she really needs a boyfriend.â
âYouâre right.â
âMaybe sheâll fix that attitude of hers after a good pounding.â
Krystal walks down the stairs and shouts, âAlright, Iâll be back in the evening!â and exits the door.Â
âââ-
Krystal comes back home late at night, âIâm back.â Jessica, who is sitting in the living room reading some magazines, asks, âHow was your day?â
âIt was good, I just hung out with one of my girlfriends.â
âThatâs good, no guy friends?â
Krystal is surprised by the question but replies, âUhh⊠no.â
âThat's too bad, youâll find one soon,â caressing Krystalâs hair. She then asks, âYou know what? Let's do this: take a shower with me like in the old days.â
Krystal reminisces when she and Jessica would do everything together, âOkay, letâs go.â
The two of them shower, engage in sister talk, and share their secrets with each other. Jessica talks about the hard time she had setting up her business, even during her pregnancy. âLook at me now, my belly is noticeable and Iâm constantly horny.âÂ
âItâs all his fault; he did this to you.â
âDonât blame him. I knew what could have happened, but I still did it. Just a taste of his cock got me addicted to him,â as she lightly touches her cunt. She brings her fingers up to Krystal and says, âJust by thinking about him, Iâm already wet.â
âUnnie, donât; thatâs disgusting.â
âTell me, Krystal. When was the last time you got intimate?â
Krystal looks down and shyly says, âA bit over a year, maybe more.âÂ
Jessica holds Krystalâs hand and asks, âWant to give him a try?â
âWhat?â
âHeâll make you feel real good.âÂ
âBut youâre having his kidâŠâ
âI donât mind sharing him, plus weâre sisters.â
âUgh⊠I donât think soâŠâ
âI know you saw him fuck me from behind. I know youâre backed up as I am.âÂ
ââŠâ
âDo it for me. If you donât like it, then I wonât mention it before.â
Krystal stays silent for a while and says, âOkay, just once, but if he cums in me, Iâm going to punch him.â
âOkay, Iâll let him know.âÂ
The notification ding goes off, and you see a text message from Jessica, âCome to my room.â Curious, you head to Jessicaâs room across the hallway and knock, âCome in!âÂ
As you open the door, you see Jessica on the bed, leaning against the large pillows on the bed in her bathrobe. She lifts part of her robe and says, âLike what you see?â
You slowly walk towards her, âfuck yeah, Iâm up for another round.â Jessica replies, âMaybe we should spice things up a bit.âÂ
You hear the door close behind you and see Krystal turning the door lock. You turn back and see Jessicaâs grin, âShe doesnât have a boyfriend, so I thought we could let her join our fun.âÂ
Jessica looks at Krystal and says, âShow him how serious you are.â You turn around once more and see Krystal drop her bathrobe as well. She walks towards her sister, who is extending her arm, âCome sit, here.âÂ
You see Krystal climb up the bed next to Jessica, âI know you two donât get along, but both of you are important to me, so I think that this might bring you two closer.â
âIâm okay with it if she is.â
You look at Krystal and wait for her response, âIâm good with it too.â
âOkay, I want to watch the two of you get along, so take off your pants.â You drop your shorts and extend your hand towards Krystal.Â
She slowly reaches for your arm, and you lead her to the middle of the room. Standing in front of one another you part Krystalâs hair to the side and kiss her neck. She squints from the awkwardness of your kissing but after a while she loosens up.Â
You reach for her bathrobe belt and unfasten it, causing it to drop and reveal her nude body. She tries to cover her breasts and lower area, but you part her hand and instead lead her to the bed.
Her demeanor changes, she becomes compliant to your advances and lays on her back. As you climb onto the bed, you get on top of her; she feels small compared to your frame and becomes nervous about what youâre going to do.Â
You cup on her breast and kiss her collarbone, making her slightly moan. With your other hand, you slide it down towards her folds and gently rub her lower lips.
Meanwhile, Jessica watches as her sister begins to enjoy your foreplay, being considerate of whatâs to come. She loosens her bathrobe, exposing her breasts and gently rubbing them.
Feeling some wetness coming from Krystalâs lower area, you stop your advances and move towards her legs. You spread her legs, move forward and grab your flaccid cock in your hand.Â
Krystal feels your flaccid cock smacking against her cunt; itâs heavy but average. She tells herself itâs not that big, not as Jessica described it.
You slowly insert the tip into her entrance and slowly move more inside of her until itâs halfway in. Krystal makes an uncomfortable expression but gets adjusted to your flaccid cock.Â
âIâm halfway in. Are you ready?â
âSure, youâre not that big anyway.â
âOh really?â
âYeah, my last boyfriend was this big.âÂ
Jessica tries to tell Krystal to shut up and not taunt but itâs too late. You pick Krystal up and pin her against the wall. She smiles, thinking that she might have hit a trigger, but that smile immediately disappears as she feels something growing inside of her.Â
Krystal groans as her walls stretch to its maximum, your flaccid cock turning into a rod of steel. Sheâd never experienced this type of pain and pleasure before, not even when she lost her virginity to her previous boyfriend. âAhh⊠what the fuck, itâs getting bigger inside of me. Youâre going to break me!â
With her face against the wall, you pull her hair, tilting her head, and begin to thrust. âFuck, youâre too big, pull out!â Her feet tremble from your massive size cock going in and out of her small cunt. You continue to pull her hair and thrust until he has no energy in her legs.Â
You let go of her hair and pick her up, tossing her onto the bed where her sister is. She looks at Jessica, and all she says is, âI told you to keep quiet.â Krystal looks back at you as you climb on the bed.Â
âLetâs go for the main event. Get ready because Iâm going to make sure I break you in like I did your sister.â
She looks at your throbbing cock, veins fully showing, âGet that thing away from me!â
Instead, you give her a devilish grin, causing her expression to change. You place her legs on your shoulders and smack your length against her cunt. âThink this is the same as your boyfriend?â
Krystal can already feel how heavy your cock is just by it being smacked on her cunt. She knows that if sheâs fucked by this monstrosity, thereâs no turning back. âWait⊠Iâm SorrâŠâ
Her eyes go wide as you ignore her plea and shove your cock inside her small cunt all at once. Her body spasms from the impact, her belly bulging as if she were pregnant like her sister.
*Cough, cough, cough*
She turns her head to her sister, who is sitting next to her, watching. Jessica moves her fingers towards her cunt, rubbing it slowly as you begin to thrust inside of Krystal. Every time you thrust inside, she sees the large outline of your cock. She didnât know that someone could be this big.Â
âHow do you like his cock, little sis.â
âUgh⊠it feels like my organs are getting rearranged every time he goes inside me. Iâm scared UnnieâŠâÂ
Jessica doesnât reply; sheâs too preoccupied with touching herself.Â
âYour sister is not going to help you. You put up a strong front, but in reality, youâre just cock hungry like her.âÂ
She sees you putting her into a mating press, smacking your cock at her entrance once more. âWait⊠Iâm sorry. Be more gentle!â
Krystal coughs uncontrollably as you split her wide open. She begs for you to slow down, but itâs to no avail as youâre determined to make her crazy. âTake this fucken cock. Feel as your womb takes the shape of my cock, haha.â
Jessica increases the pace of her fingers as she rubs her folds while watching you fuck her sister. The way Krystal struggles to take your cock reminds her of herself before her pregnancy.
She tells herself,â I can wait for the baby to be born. I want him to fuck me like that one night.â
You continue to fuck her roughly, her pleading turning into a scene of a complete mess. Her eyes roll back from the intense pleasure, and her body limb like a human fuck doll. This new sensation is foreign to her; not even her previous boyfriend made her feel this way.Â
Suddenly, she loses control of her body as it begins to shake violently. âIâm cumming!â Her walls tighten and release a wave of ecstasy as she coats your cock with her liquid warmth.Â
You pull your cock out and see her juices spill out, âwhatâs a complete mess.â She continues to spasm and turns to see Jessica.Â
âIâm going to cum on her face, haha.â
She looks at you with a heavy expression and replies, âDo whatever you want.âÂ
âFuck, if thatâs the case, then the only way is directly into the source.â You grin at Krystalâs defenseless state and place your cock above her entrance. She turns to you, barely able to open her eyes when she sees you align yourself and tries to push you away.Â
Sheâs seen that expression before, the expression of a man who is ready to cum inside of a woman. Luckily, the previous times have been with a condom as sheâs trying to avoid any unnecessary pregnancies.Â
Just as youâre able to insert your cock, she regains her rationality. âWait, what are you doing? Do it outside, cum outside, please!â She pushes your hand away and looks at Jessica for help but is lost in her own pleasure.Â
âSorry, but your sister gave me the green light.â
âStop! Donât cum inside me, please. I donâtâŠâ
Krystalâs eyes widens, and she coughs aggressively as sheâs suddenly stabbed with your massive cock.Â
âMaybe getting your womb filled with cum will turn you down a notch.â
A wave of cum flows into Krystalâs womb. Itâs her first time tasting cum without protection. An overwhelming amount of thoughts are running through her mind. Sheâs trying so hard to prevent any problems and made her ex-boyfriend wear protection during sex just so she could get forced creampied by you.
She imagines the worst-case scenario: her getting impregnated by you just like you did her older sister. That would be the end of her career.
âItâs over; my life is ruined,â says Krystal as she passes out from shock.Â
âââ-
Krystal wakes up much later and sees her sister riding you. Her expression is one of a wild woman losing herself in heavenly pleasure.Â
âYou came so much inside my sister; you might have impregnated her, you know.â
âHaha, jealous?â
âNo, I just don't know what my parents are going to say about that.â
âLet time tell, but I wouldn't mind seeing two sisters have my child.âÂ
Krystal stays hidden from the both of you, only to fall back to sleep with your cum inside her womb.Â
#kpop smut#male reader#the company series#the company#TM smut#jessica jung smut#snsd jessica smut#snsd jessica#jung jessica#krystal jung#Krystal smut#girl idol smut#kpop idol smut#idol x reader#idol smut#girls generation smut#smut reader#snsd smut
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down on you | jjk
â„ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader â„ word count | 4.5k â„ warning(s) | đ smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, hair pulling, standing missionary, rough sex, porn w/ plot, mafia!jk, detective!reader, established relationship, mild angst, mild violence â„ summary | Itâs true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all. â„ notes | the mafia!jk au no one asked for aka an excuse to write smut w/ feeling lol.
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On his knees staring down the barrel of a loaded gun with a mouthful of blood, he knows this is the end of the line. Heâs going to die like a rat in the gutter - no mercy to be found, loopholes to exploit or bribes to be made.
This is the real deal, and thereâs no coming back.
Judgement Day comes in the form of a man with dark eyes and a dangerous smirk: Golden, the deadliest guard dog of the underground.
Credited with dozens of hits, you wonât know heâs there until itâs too late. Trying to keep him pinned is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands, or a whisper on the wind.
And you wonât know heâs coming until you feel the breath on the back of your neck, hear the crack of a bullet ringing in your ears.
Belonging to one of the most powerful men in the world: Kim Namjoon, heâs more war machine than man.
âGo ahead, do it!â He spits at Goldenâs feet, a mess of blood and drool staining the crisp leather of his combat boots. âKilling me wonât change a goddamn thing.â
A coy smile tugs at Goldenâs mouth, his grin all sharp teeth and violence. He stays where he stands, his silhouette haloed by distant streetlights.
Water laps at the docks, the tang of salt heavy in the mid-summer Seoul air. Thereâs no rush; they both know heâll be dead and dumped just like all the rest of the garbage in this rotting city.
âCome on, you prick! Pull the fucking trigger already.â
Golden cocks his head, and hums in the back of his throat.Â
âTch! I hope youâve got a lot of bullets - weâre gonna knock the crown off Kimâs head one way or another.â
Golden thumbs at the safety of his gun, the barrel glinting through the shadows. âAhh, is that what you think?â He shrugs, a lazy ripple of muscle. âWell, I have to say: Iâd love to see you try.â
The night is shattered by the resounding crack of a gunshot and an echoing splash of something heavy dropping into the water below.
You climb out of the nondescript government-issue car. The faintest tremble of your fingers nearly gives you away but youâre able to reign in the impulse to smooth your hands over your clothes at the last second.
Showing weakness is the last thing you need to be doing right now.
Especially here.
Right in front of where youâve parked - shoved between two looming apartment complexes - sits a quaint, vintage building. The rough brick face is at odds with the sleek surroundings, but tinted windows keep prying eyes at bay while the classy signing hanging above the door reads The Red Bullet written in caps.
If you didnât know better, it would be hard to believe this otherwise mundane storefront is a cover for one of the most dangerous international organizations based out of South Korea.
Not only do they hold the keys to the kingdom, but their success is largely in part because they spearhead operations from government espionage all the way to simple blackmail.
Even though itâs been several months since you darkened its doorstep, the familiar sight is enough to steal the breath from your lungs. Send your heart galloping into a tailspin as your stomach swoops.
While time away helped clear your head of stolen kisses and promises whispered in dark rooms, it also drove the longing bone deep.
In those quiet moments to yourself, when you have nothing else to distract from how lonely you are, you miss this place like one misses a limb.
You didnât realize how attached you were to these four walls until it was too late: the hazy air filled with whorls of smoke, the overhead lights that bathe everything in red, the plush chairs you spent many nights sprawled across, the glossy black stages.
You donât know how, you donât know when but at some point it (he) started feeling like home. A luxury you canât afford. Not again. After all, if you give in, any progress you made outside of his gravitational pull will be for naught.
Which puts you in a dangerous position as you find yourself back where it began; feelings at war with duty, mind vs heart. Because even if it leads you to a place you could go a million years without ever seeing again, you have to follow the trail of bodies.
A bouncer grants you access, the heavy door slamming shut behind you like a death knell as he herds you towards the back of the club.
Itâs outside of official operating hours but itâs no less busy inside, men and women alike in scattered conversation as you pass through.
âItâs nice to see you again,â the bouncer murmurs, chancing a quick glance at your profile. âBeen a while.â
You swallow, gaze darting down to your shoes. âAh - yeah⊠Got busy with work. Itâs - itâs nice to see you too.â
The small talk fizzles out, a snuffed candle as you arrive at a cordoned off room, âHere we are. Mr Kim is already expecting you.â
Any further pleasantries grow stale on your tongue as you enter the private booth, fighting against the lump in your throat to manage a hoarse âthank youâ.
And then you find yourself left alone with the man himself, Kim Namjoon. Heâs as intimidating as you remember, lounging back into the leather booth with his ankles crossed.
A lukewarm smile stretches across his lips, the slightest hint of a dimple peeking out from the valley of his cheek. Standing at attention on either side of his reposing form are two massive bodyguards. Their hands rest on the butts of their guns, daring any who enter to try and make a move.
âItâs good to see you again. But I gotta ask - whatâs the occasion, Detective?â Namjoon hums. âI thought we were past all this.â He waves a nebulous hand between your bodies. âAfter all, youâre practically family.â
You ignore the hidden barb with a wince. âMr Kim, you know why Iâm here.â
âI used to know why a long time ago.â A well-groomed brow raises, his gaze glacial as it spears you in place. âBut now Iâm not so sure.â
âPlease, Mr Kim. I donât want to make this more difficult than it is. I just need to know about the man they fished out of the harbor, and then Iâll be on my way. So⊠who was he?â
Namjoon scoffs. âWhat makes you think I know more than the police?â
Thereâs a flash of a smirk, barely noticed, before his face returns to its neutral expression. As calm and cool as a placid river. âA johnâs a john. What I do want to know is why you care so much?â
The underlying question is clear; why are you really here?
âIâm afraid Iâm not at liberty to discuss such matters with civillians.â
âOh? So Iâm a civilian now.â His expression is not unlike the cat that caught the canary: vicious and delighting in the discomfort his evasions are causing. âGotta say thatâs a new one for me.â
Sighing in defeat, you say, âAlright, enough. I get it. Iâm wasting my time with you. Let me ask this instead: where is he?âÂ
âHe doesnât know any more about this than I do,â he says, waving a blase hand towards a door off to the left, âBut if you insist, you can find him in the office. Oh, and Detective?â
â...Yes?â
âTake your time, Iâll be out on business all afternoon.â
With a curt nod, you flee the room amid low-throated chuckles and enter the office. Standing near the desk, his broad back turned towards the door, you find the man you simultaneously want to see the most and run from the fastest.
He turns around, the muscles of his back rippling with the movement. Your breath stutters in your chest, and you nearly swallow your tongue as your eyes trace over the cut of his body.
The moment your eyes meet, those many months spent cultivating time and distance turn to ash. You forgot how even the mere sight of him affects you, any resistance to his many charms virtually nonexistent as the world falls away.
Rich, coffee dark; his gaze sucks you in until itâs all you can do not to reach out, to brush your fingers over his edges and feel them soften beneath your palms.
Rocking back on your heels, you clear your throat and glance to the side as you remain standing in the entryway, more than a little off-kilter.
Coming back after so long apart, only to find him the same as the day you left⊠How do you reconcile everything thatâs changed with everything that was?
âWell, hello there.â Jungkook croons, leaning his hip against the corner of the desk with a roll of his shoulders. His arms cross over the trunk of his chest, accentuating the bulk of his chest, the flex of inked bicep. âLong time no see.â
Shifting, you gulp. âAh - yeahâŠâ
The burn of his gaze - a palpable sensation prickling across your skin - tracks a path from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he gives you a thorough once-over.
âYouâre looking good,â Jungkook hums in approval, âreal good. Iâve missed those pretty eyes of yours.â
âYou - you too.â
Your attention doesnât know where to settle: drifting from the curve of his shoulders to the jut of his bloody knuckles, the tuck of his trim hips to the thick-soled combat boots.
Tiny hairs at the back of your neck stand on end, and your palms slick with sweat.
âI mean, you look⊠yâknow, uh, good too.â
A flash of a crooked smirk, the raising of a pierced brow gets your blood pumping, your heart tattooing a rhythm against your ribs. Emboldens you to reach back with shaky fingers to turn the lock. The sound grates down your spine, bolts of anticipation slicing through you.
It was dumb to think coming here, seeing him again, would end any other way than his taste on your tongue and his cock in your cunt. Hope makes fools of us all.
Shouldâve known better but youâd been hopeful those days were long behind you. Now you realize it was inevitable.
After all, Jungkook is magnetic.
The black hole at the center of your universe, consuming everything in its path until heâs what remains in your head, your heart. Youâre helpless, ceaselessly drawn to him like a moth to flame.
And try as you might, you canât say no to a face like that.
Never could, in fact.
Failure to extract yourself from his orbit during your not-relationship is nothing new. That doesnât mean you canât make it difficult.
After all, you still have some dignity intact.
So try, try, try again.
âAhem.â You try to banish the heat from your cheeks, guiding the conversation into the correct territory. âIâm not here on a-a social call, Jeon. I need to know: were you the one that killed and dumped the john in the harbor?â
Stalking closer, a lazy jungle cat on the prowl, Jungkook crosses the distance between you. He only stops once your bodies brush with every labored inhale. Heat radiates from him, and youâre achingly aware of every point of contact.
The light scent of his cologne teases your nose, and his eyes - god, his eyes. Theyâre shaded and hungry, devouring your expression with single-minded possessiveness.Â
âWhat makes you think I know anything about that?â
âJeon -- Jungkook.â
He hums.
Your heart thrums, pulse rushing hard through your head until you feel faint, blood surging the longer you stay in close contact. The shameful clench of your cunt makes your cheeks burn all the brighter.
The last time you were looking up at him like this, his hand was on your jaw while his cock thrust balls deep.
âCâmon, you know that isnât going to work. This is me youâre talking to, not some rookie.â
âMm,â he purrs, âit is you Iâm talking to, isnât it?â
You manage to bite back the groan but canât stop your eyes from rolling even if thereâs the slightest hint of a stutter when you reply, âPlease, I just need to know if you killed him.â
Jungkook looms tall and proud, crowding closer. âAnd if I did, baby?â he asks.
Instinctively you back up, only to be followed step by step. A game of cat and mouse that finds you pinned against the wall before long. With nowhere to run, you watch, heart in your throat, as Jungkook dips his dark head.
His nose runs along the length of your neck, breath puffing across your sensitive skin as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.
âI - IâŠâ
âWould you see me in handcuffs?â His lips caress the underside of your jaw, a soft groan escaping him. â⊠Câmon, answer me. Would you?â
âI would - if I had to.â
As much as you wish that was true, you know in your heart of heart's you would do everything in your power to make sure that never happens.
No matter how much you like to think youâd do the right thing when push comes to shove, youâd choose him a thousand times over.
His eyes dance playfully. âCareful, I might like it.â
âI canât say Iâm surprised,â you say with a snort.
Jungkook chuckles low and warm, using the arm around your waist to tug you into the safety of his body. The softness of your breasts presses into the hard planes of his chest, your nipples pebbling through the thin cotton shirt you wear.
With a deep-throated groan, his hands encircle the curves of your hips as a thickly muscled thigh slots between yours.
An answering quiet sigh gets his blood pumping and his cock twitching.
âMm, something tells me youâd enjoy it just as much, Detective.â
The use of your title is a rude awakening.
âJungkook,â You warn, moving to push him away. Only once you start touching him, you canât stop. His muscles flex beneath your curious fingertips. âWe really shouldnât.â
Youâre sure if he could, Jungkook would spend days worshipping between your thighs, velvet heat wrapped around his tongue and hands in his hair as he brings you to peak again and again until youâre a sobbing, sopping, boneless mess beneath him.
âCome on, I know you want me - that youâve missed me. I can see it in your eyes.â
He kisses the corner of your mouth, tongue flickering out for a brief taste before a rough thumb skates across your bottom lip, tugging down to expose your teeth, the glitter of your tongue as it darts out to flick over the pad of his finger..
âIâve certainly missed you, baby. Want me to show you?â
Even though you refuse to admit anything out loud, you canât help but angle your throat back and grind into his hips pressed against yours.
Jungkook tsks, âThatâs alright. Iâll get that pretty mouth open one way or another.â
Before you can retort, a mouth swoops down to fuse with yours in a fierce, all-consuming kiss. A low, broken moan punches from your chest.
Reaching up, your fingers sink into the mane of dark hair that brushes the cut of Jungkookâs jaw. Soft, thick, and wavy in your grip; you tug at the roots.
Jungkook hisses.Â
Teeth nip at your lip, kittenish licks soothing away the string as blood bursts across your tongues. The thigh shoved between yours grinds up with every wet, sloppy pass of your lips.
Thick muscle spreads your pussy open through the thin slacks of your work uniform. Sparks of pleasure dance down your spine with every rock against your swollen clit.
âS-Shit!â Your shoulders curl in, a shudder jerking through you. âK-Kook, I⊠!â
âFuck, youâre so wet for me.â Jungkook growls, rutting his cock against the jut of your hip. The wet patch youâre making on his jeans grows larger with every filthy grind. âYouâve been gone too fucking long. Never again, you hear me?â
You claw at his shoulders, stuttering out, âthereâs noth-ing you can do tâstop me.â
âIf you donât come back to me,â his eyes are dark and stormy, voice whiskey rough, âIâll find you.â
Itâs not a threat - itâs a promise.
âThen make sure I never want to leave,â you challenge breathlessly, staring into his blown out pupils, âMake me want to stay.â
Above all else, you think.
The words are barely past your lips when Jungkook accepts your challenge with gusto (just like you knew he would). Without delay, he thumbs open the button on your pants.
Refusing to let you look away, Jungkook yanks them to your feet and swings you up into his arms one-handed. They hang from your ankle like a chain.
Your surprised squeak is quickly swallowed up by a moan when he settles you over the bulge in his pants, your cunt hovering over his erection.
The heat of his skin sinks through the thin cotton of your panties, so, so close to where you need him. Slick soaks into the fabric, and clings to your inner thighs.
Every shift is a smooth, sticky glide of folds that stirs, and stokes the ember of desire smoldering behind your navel.
âKook,â you breathe. âPlease.â
Your head rolls back, and you sag into his chest. Your hips twitch in pathetic little attempts, trying to get pressure where you need it. Having him hot and hard and all for you; any distance between you is suddenly unbearable.
He needs to spread you wide and stuff you full with every inch of his thick cock until heâs so deep you wonât be able to walk for days.
âShh baby, Iâll give you what you want,â he says, gaze heavy and possessive. âIâm gonna ruin you so good, youâll have no choice but to come back. Youâre mine.â
âSays who?â
âHmm. You donât think you are?â
Nibbling on your ear, Jungkook slips a finger under the hem of your panties. He smirks when you keen, rubbing his knuckle up and down your sloppy folds with teasing pressure.
âHow about I show you what your body already knows?â
Wasting no time, he lifts you off his cock, the scrap of cloth fluttering to the ground. His free hand dives between your bodies. Then comes the clink of a belt, the sound of a zipper pulling down.
Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, your body coiled with anticipation as your stomach swoops at the brush of his fingers along the underside of your thigh.
âLook so pretty like this, baby.â Jungkook twists his wrist, hips arching back. âAnd itâs all for me. Fuck, I canât wait to get inside this pretty pussy.â
Any response dies on your tongue, brain short-circuiting as the slick, fat cockhead rubs along your slit. Pressing against your entrance the slightest bit before slipping up to nudge at your clit - coating himself up in your sticky juices.
The ultimate tease - something Jungkookâs always been overly fond of doing until youâre out of your mind with desperation.
âPlease, please, please,â you chant, cheeks on fire and eyes half-lidded as you circle your hips. âStop playing around. I want it - want you, Kook.â
âOh, baby,â he smiles, ducking down to kiss your forehead. âYouâll take whatever I give you.â
You canât stifle the broken sob, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Liquid fire surges through your veins, a thousand bolts of lightening crackling beneath the surface of your skin. Your pussy is tender, swollen. Walls fluttering in time with your heartbeat.Â
âHa, youâre so needy for me.â
Jungkookâs lips brush away the moisture around your eyes, his thumb drawing soothing circles into the base of your spine. All the while, his torturous grinding never ceases.
âArenât you?â
You croak, âI canât â Kook, please. Anything, Iâll do anything you want just fuck me.â
The flash of his eyes is your only warning before heâs right there, your walls embracing the girth of his erection inch by inch. Every ridge, every jerk as he seats himself as deep inside your silken heat as he can is absolute heaven.
The stretch as you take him to the hilt sends you careening towards the edge, eyes rolling back and toes curling in your shoes.
âShit, shit, shit, shit!â you whimper.
âShit!â Jungkook grits his teeth, squeezing the base of his cock as you tighten around him. With every deep inhale, his pelvis brushes your swollen, needy clit. âForgot how good you feel wrapped around my dick, baby.â
âMe too,â You gasp, tightening your legs around Jungkookâs hips.âMe too, Kook.â
Dropping his forehead to yours, he says gruffly, ââm not gonna last long.â
Making a noise of acknowledgement, you wiggle your hips. Sinking your teeth into the side of Jungkookâs jaw, you bite and suck at his skin, wanting to leave a mark to remember you by. His reaction is instantaneous, releasing the grip on his shaft to grab a fist full of hair.
He yanks back.
The long, elegant line of your throat is exposed to his butterfly kisses and scolding love bites.
âNow youâve really asked for it,â Jungkook huffs out with a dirty chuckle.
âThen give it to me.â You lick your puffy lips, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. âShow me who I belong to.â Â
The brewing hurricane in his eyes is unleashed. Wide palms and strong fingers grip your hips so tight you feel bones grind together. His stance widens, his unwavering gaze locking onto your face, brow pinched, and mouth slack.
His lip piercing glints in the light, his tongue sliding out to wet his bottom lip. Dark curls tussle about his head, a wild halo that sweeps down into the burning umber of his eyes.
Helpless, you succumb - enchanted by the darkness peering at you from behind those dangerous eyes. Heâs ethereal; a siren song that threatens to drown you, swallow you whole.
Youâd happily let him, you realize with a shiver.
Itâs true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all.
âHold on tight,â Jungkook says, hooking his hands under your bottom.Â
And then, heâs jackhammering into your cunt so hard and fast all you can do is hold on for the ride. Punch drunk and moaning as he manhandles you how he likes, spreads you wide and stuffs you full until youâre panting for breath and clinging to sanity by your fingernails.
âFuck yes, thatâs it. Look how well your pretty pussy always takes my fat cock.â
His low voice whispering filthy praises in your ear makes you whimper, whine, and writhe as the band of pleasure coiling tight in your belly comes close to snapping. Itâs the fastest heâs ever fucked an orgasm out of you, and it feels so good you donât even care.
The pace is brutal, slamming into you so hard youâre sure youâll have bruises on your hips come morning. But itâll be so fucking worth it. Youâre going to cum hard and long, you just know it.
About to melt as Jungkook fucks the slick out of you, groaning as you drip down the base of his cock, his balls - his very own pretty little mess.
âYeah, you gonna cum, baby?â he laughs, pressing a sweaty kiss to the side of your face. âCan feel how - haaah shit - how tight youâre squeezing me.â
âUh-huh,â you cry, holding onto the tops of his wide shoulders. Every thrust has his cockhead dragging over the spongy patch of your g-spot, sending fissions of pleasure rocketing through your nervous system. âSo - so close, baby. Just a little more, I--â
Balancing yourself, you lift up only to slam back down, meeting Jungkookâs thrust with all the force of gravity. âOh fuck, oh fuck!â
Crashing over you like a tsunami, your orgasm shoots through your limbs and zips down your spine. A warm rush of cum soaks Jungkookâs shaft, the wet and messy sound of your squirt splashing against the floor secondary to the cry that claws its way out of your throat.
âK-Kook!â
Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he helps you keep bouncing up and down on his erection. âYeah, thatâs it - keep going, baby. Wanna feel you keep cumming all over this cock.â
Aftershocks slice through you like lightning, tiny jolts of electricity. As you come down from your high, your gummy walls pulse, milking at Jungkookâs thick shaft.
He groans softly whenever your muscles tense, release; your body a worn-out rubber band as your breath stutters from you.
Then a hand pets down your flank, your skin shivering with hypersensitivity at the tender touch. âSâokay. Just breathe, baby.â
Peeling open your heavy eyes, you look up at his face. Take in the crinkle of his brow and the ravenous expression. Even floating on a sea of bliss, white noise fills your ears, you want more.
You slur, determined, âKook, baby, please. Cum in me, want you sâbad.â
âFuck! Canât just say shit like that to me or IâŠâ Jungkook bites down onto the tender crook of your neck, muffling his grunts in your flesh. âShit - âm so --â
You cry out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders, âA-haah, K-Kook!â
Snapping his hips forward one last time, Jungkook grinds as deep as he can get and lets go. The fat head of his cock kisses your cervix, his length throbbing in time with his heartbeat as a rush of cum floods your insides.
âYeah, just like that,â he grunts, rutting once - twice into the cradle of your body, âtake it like a good girl.â
He croons when you whine at the press of his pelvis against your oversensitive clit. Thready sparks of pain shoot down your legs that hang limply over his forearms. Every breath stutters from your lungs, slow and deep.
âNo more, canât - canâtâŠâ Shifting, you arch your spine and burrow your head into his chest, nearly catatonic in his arms. âSâtoo much.â
âShh, itâs okay. Iâve got you.â Fingers brush over your closed eyelids, smoothing over the arch of your brow. With every kiss dropped to the top of your head, he mumbles in dulcet tones, âI really have missed you, you know.â
You mewl in response as strong fingers knead the backs of your thighs.
âYouâre not allowed to go anywhere.â
âOh,â you canât muster up enough energy to say anything more, body tender and trembling with little aftershocks, âsâthat right?â
âYeah, thatâs right.â He chuckles. âYouâre staying here - right where I want you.â
In lieu of a response, you pick your head up off the pillow of his chest and seek out his gaze. Liquid soft; heâs looking at you like you hung the world on a string.
âIâve missed you too, Kook,â you say with a gentle smile.
Youâll allow yourself this moment of weakness when thereâs no space between your bodies or hearts. Titles donât matter much when heâs cradling you to his chest like a piece of precious china.
Between the two of us, youâre the one who hung the moon and stars, you think while combing back his sweaty bangs.
And I think I love you, you whisper voiceless against his lips.
#jeon jungkook x you#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#bts fic#jungkook#bts jungkook
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The Accident
Simon âGhostâ Riley x Reader (Established Relationship)
Summary: Simon gets the call that youâve been in an accident and are in the hospital. Warnings: Health scare, mention of hospitals, accident (non graphic), brief mention of injuries (non graphic), hurt/comfort, Soft Simon A/N: This piece is dedicated to a very sweet anon who has been through a lot. Anon, I hope this brings you some comfort <3 Iâve also decided to submit it to @glitterypirateduck's May Writing Challenge! This is one of my favorite tropes, so I hope you all enjoy! Special thank you to @sim0nril3y for taking a look and for all the support
The knife glides effortlessly through the tomato, the metal utensil familiar in Simonâs grip. He makes quick work of the produce, fingers moving rapidly and precisely. âKnife skills arenât just for the field,â he chuckles to himself as he adds the chopped remains to a bowl before turning his blade on a shallot.Â
Just as he slices into the root, the clattering vibration of his phone against the countertop interrupts. Simon frowns at the unfamiliar number flashing across the screen. Not many people had this number; he wasnât one to get stray phone calls, which is exactly how he likes it. He has half a mind to send it to voicemail, but something tugs at his edges. At the last second he swipes across the screen and raises the phone to his ear. The line is empty for a moment.Â
âSimon?â The sound of your hoarse voice has Simonâs spine straightening, instantly on high alert.Â
âWhatâs happened.â The sharp words come out more like a statement than a question. Simonâs heartbeat quickens.Â
âIâm okay,â you start, but your wobbly voice betrays you. "But there was an accidentâ" Simon is in motion. Dinner is forgotten on the counter as he heads for the door, stepping into his boots on the way.Â
âWhere are you?â Thereâs a commotion in the background, some kind of beeping that Simon canât make out. He catches your hesitation as you wait to reply.Â
âLove. Where. Are. You.â His words are clipped, and for a split second he fears the phone might actually splinter in his hands given how hard heâs clenching the device.Â
âIâm in A&E. Iâthe ambulance just brought me here.âÂ
Simonâs world tilts before him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing in deep. One single stabilizing breath is all he allows himself before opening his eyes, resolute determination clear on his face as a decade of training takes over.Â
âIâm on my way.â The phone clicks off as he grabs the keys off the hook by the door and rushes to the car.
The drive is a blur; he doesnât pay attention to how fast heâs going, or what color the stoplights may be. Traffic laws are relativeâheâs a man on a mission. His sole focus is getting to you. His heart pounds in his chest as he navigates the final turn, the hospital finally coming into view.Â
The car barely comes to a full and complete stop at the entryway before Simonâs door flies open.Â
âSir, you canât park here!â A disgruntled attendant calls out to him as he exits the vehicle, but Simon doesnât even slow down, stepping around the irritated employee before barreling through the hospital entrance.Â
Only to be brought to a halt at the open lobby before him.Â
Shit. He hadnât even thought to ask what room you were in. The frustration intertwines with the panic, and Simon has to force it down.Â
Heâs here. Heâll find you.Â
And so Simon finds himself at the mercy of the kind, elderly receptionist, who seems to be taking her sweet time locating your information.Â
Simon tries not to crack the counter beneath his grip, foot tapping against the ground in irritation. You could be in surgery, you could be bleeding out, any number of things could be happening right this moment, and there is nothing he can do. Simon silences these thoughts, keeping the panic at bay. âKeep it together, lieutenant,â he reminds himself silently.Â
The receptionist, Shelley, her name tag reads, is unfazed by his erratic state, eyes squinting as she adjusts her glasses and leans back from the screen. Simon runs a hand down his face, using every ounce of self control he has to keep up a semblance of propriety.Â
âAhh,â Shelley announces triumphantly. âHere they are! I found them.â She turns her gaze to the hulking man in front of her, taking in his large form and tentatively eyeing the tattoos along his forearm. âSorry, what was your relation to the patient again?â She asks, a note of uncertainty laces her tone.Â
âIâmââ he hesitates. No words come to the tip of his tongue. Heâs not a boyfriend for christâs sake. Not your husband, though he wished more than ever he could use that word right now.Â
âSpouse? Partner?â Shelley raises an eyebrow, trying to help fill in the blanks here.
Simon swallowed hard. âYeah, partner. Just, can you tell me where they are? Please.â Â
Heâs not sure what comes over him as he tacks on that final plea. The desperation is clear in his words, but he couldnât care less. Fuck it, he is desperate. Desperate to see you. Desperate to know you are okayâsee it with his own eyes, feel your hands in his.Â
Shelleyâs pointed gaze turns to one of sympathy. âRoom 315, dear. The lift is to the right.âÂ
The words are barely out of her mouth before Simonâs in motion once more. No time for the lift, he thinks to himself as he heads to the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time up to your floor. Brown eyes frantically scan every room number as he searches for yours before finally finding the correct digits outside the room furthest down the hall. The metal of the door handle is cool beneath his touch as he pushes open the door, charging into the room.
He comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, eyes frantically scanning your body, taking stock of each and every visible injury. He can hardly control the wave of emotions that threaten to pull him down as he takes in your bruised and bandaged appearance.Â
Theyâve already set your arm in a sling, and thereâs a large bulk encompassing your entire right leg, the bulk of it obvious even under the thin hospital blanket. An array of cuts and scrapes mar your perfect face, and the sudden onset of pure, unadulterated rage threatens to swallow him whole.Â
âIâm going to kill them,â the words echo in his mindâa dozen violent deaths planned out for whoever did this to you.Â
âSimon,â your hoarse voice calls out to him, but he canât hear you over the sound of the roaring in his head.Â
âIâm going to hunt them down. And Iâm going to fucking kill them for this.â
âSimon,â you say his name louder, firmer, and attempt to sit yourself up. Pain radiates through your body, piercing through the haze of pain meds, and you canât help the cry of pain that escapes your lips.Â
That is what pulls Simon out. On instinct, his feet move towards your bed, hand reaching out to clasp around your free hand.Â
Your lower lip trembles. âSimon.â The word is pitiful on your lipsâa plea, a prayer, a cry for help.Â
Itâs enough to pull Simon from the depths of this rageârevenge can wait.Â
âIâm here.â Simonâs voice wraps around you like a warm blanket, and the dam breaks, tears flowing fast and freely. âIt was awful,â you gasp out between sobs. Simon makes soothing shushing sounds as he holds your hand tight in his own, his other hand reaching up to gently brush the tears away, taking care to avoid the scrapes that litter your skin as you recount what details you can remember of the accident.Â
âShh, love, itâs okay,â he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. ââM sorry I wasnât there, babe.â Bile threatens to rise in the back of his throat as the guilt settles in.
âShouldâve been there, shouldâve never left your fucking side.â He stares at the layers of gauze wrapped around your leg, hidden beneath the thin blanket.Â
âSimon. Look at me,â you insist, waiting for those brown eyes to turn back to you. âDonât go down that road, Si. There was nothing you could have done to stop this.âÂ
âYou donât know that,â he bites back. Simon immediately regrets the harshness of his note. âYou donât know that,â he tries again, softer this time. âShouldâve been there.â He runs a hand over his face, the adrenaline is fading, causing the events of the past hour to finally catch up to him. He exhales sharply and looks back up at you, eyes determined.Â
âBut âm here now. Itâs over. Iâm here.â He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. âAnd Iâm not going anywhere, love.â
True to his word, Simon stays by your bedside the entire three day stay in the hospital. He denies your pleas to go home and sleep in his own bed, insisting on sleeping in the rough, uncomfortable hospital recliner. Not only was the furniture laughably small for a man of his stature, but after the first night, Simon is convinced it was designed as some kind of long-term-torture device. Not once does he complain though, dismissing your worries with a casual wave of his hand. âSlept in worse conditions in the field, love. This beats a forest floor.â Though by night two, Simon isnât so sure.Â
Heâs always struggled with nightmares, but those nights in the hospital, his dreams turn to something worse: losing you in a car accident. The scene replays over and over in his mindâs eye until heâs woken up with a start, covered in sweat, and gasping for air. His eyes instantly lock on to the vital signs monitor above you, watching the thin green line of your heartbeat bounce up and down in a steady rhythm. He slows his own breathing down to match pace with yours, staring down at you as you sleep soundly. He watches the subtle rise and fall of your chest, further confirmation that youâre alive.Â
When he finally gets to bring you home, he acts as though youâre made of fine china, driving ten under the speed limit. He carefully guides you into the house, hands ready to catch you as you struggle with the metal crutches.Â
âFuck,â you spit in frustration. âThey made it look so easy in the hospital.âÂ
After the second time you almost trip over them, Simonâs exasperation gets the best of him.Â
âEasy, sweeâheart,â he implores, a note of desperation in his voice. âJust got you back, yeah? Canât have you goinâ right back to A&E.âÂ
He wishes more than anything he could just scoop you up into his arms and carry you straight to the bedroom, but with your leg in its current state, he has to settle for just hovering, perpetually at the ready to catch and support you. He swears the walk from the car to getting you settled in bed takes an entire year off his life.Â
That first night back at home together, Simon lays awake, watching you sleep. The combination of finally being back in the comfort of your own bed, along with the lack of obnoxiously loud machines beeping and being encumbered by wires, means you fall asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow. Simon lays beside you, as close as he dares to get, still so weary of your injuries. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to your temple, just above where a deep cut runs down your face. His finger hovers just above your skin as he traces the shape. ââM sorry, love. I promise, Iâll take care of ya. This wonât happen again.â His words are barely above a whisper, drowned out by the soft snores of your breathing. He presses one more gentle kiss to you before turning out the light.Â
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon riley imagine#simon âghostâ riley x reader#ghostchallenge
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A little something inspired by this edit by @somnambulic-thing of what I imagine as a version of a mechanic!Eddie, but he's also biker!Eddie to me, or anything you want.
mechanic!Eddie x Reader
18+Only, secret work crush, gender neutral reader, just some yearning fluff with mention of weed and alcohol, bit of slut shaming, some sage advice from Wayne.
word count: 1.7k
Eddie had been staring at the door to the office and zoning out for a while when you opened it to step into the bay, and his unblinking gaze accidentally lingered at your midsection.
âWhatâs wrong?â You glanced down at your outfit, thinking maybe your zipper was open or something worse. There were three other mechanics besides Eddie there that day, each of them knee deep in the hustle and bustle of the busy season. A boombox on one of the tall, red cubbies blasted hard rock while an electric drill buzzed. Â
His attention snapped back to the bolt he was crouched down to tighten on the rim of a Ford Bronco. Â
âNothing,â he grunted, cranking the ratchet so that the muscles on his tattooed bicep bulged. He had on his signature summer uniform of black coveralls with the sleeves ripped off. His hair was tied back in a pony with a navy-blue bandana on his head, making it easier to slip his welding helmet on and off. âI didnât know you were working today.â
Now, that was a big fat lie. Spotting your car in the parking lot when he came in every morning was one of those things that set his day right. Youâd taken Thursday off the week before, and heâd moped around in a bad mood for the entire shift. Â
Almost four months youâd been working in the office, and he still hadnât summoned the nerve to ask you out. Instead, he drank too much after a show at the Hideout one night and ended up letting some random chick crawl all over him. The next day, the guys he worked with would make it sound more serious than it actually was.
âSoooo Munson, I heard you got lucky with Deep Throat Dana last night. They say she can suck an orange out of a tailpipe!âÂ
And then the entire shop broke out into wheezing laughter like a bunch of hyenas, as if something funny was said.
It made him cringe, and he cast a side glance to see if you were within earshot. âNothing happened with that girl,â he wanted to say to you. âWe kissed, but I just couldnâtâŠya know?â
But also, why did he feel the need to explain himself to you? It was as if he was being faithful to a dream. Youâd never give him the time of day out in the real world. Sure, you knew just how he liked his coffee, and you asked him questions about DnD and his band as if you were interested. But, you were just being niceâhe could tell. At first he thought he was special, but quickly realized that you treated everyone the same. You were, in fact, a thoughtful, likable person. Surely your only interest in him was as co-workers, nothing more. Â
Also, he could hear Wayneâs voice in his head: âDonât shit where you eat, son.âÂ
It was his uncle's long-standing advice to never get involved with a coworker, and Eddie just happened to agree. If he was ever lucky enough to take you on a few dates and then you dumped him or broke his heart, he wasnât sure he could work at the garage anymore. On the bright side, he also had a CDL to operate heavy equipment, so maybe that would be his cue to become a long-haul trucker. Â
Deep breath Munson, youâre getting way ahead of yourself.
You hesitated in the doorway for a beat with Mrs. Chadwickâs paperwork for the Oldsmobile sedan in your hand, wanting to ask Eddie how his day was going. But then he sank down onto the creeper and rolled under the vehicle as if to avoid you in a hurry. Â
You really didnât know what to make of him.Â
One second, youâd be certain he was flirting, but then later that day, heâd huff out the door without even so much as a wave. Heâd tease you about things, like your collection of random motel pens or the music you liked, and then youâd give the energy right back and wait for that gremlin smile to spread across his face.Â
The other day, heâd left your favorite candy bar on the desk for you to find. You knew it was him because he was the only one in Hawkins youâd told. How the topic of sweets came up, you werenât sure, but youâd never forget the curious narrowing of his eyes when he asked which one you liked best.
You had this strange feeling that he was secretly studying you.
The other night you were sitting across from your friend Tina, having burgers and beers at The Hideaway, when Eddie just happened to breeze in.
Your heart stuttered, whatever youâd been saying dying on your lips, completely losing your train of thought. The vinyl in the booth squeaked as you craned your neck to watch him. That was the first time youâd ever seen him in street clothes without coveralls on, and it was raining, so his long hair was soaked. He greeted the woman at the cash register, and you were too far away to hear, but apparently he was there to pay and pick up his takeout order in a big brown sack with greasy handprints on it. You thought about waving him down to ask if he wanted to join the two of you, but he did his business in a hurry and didnât seem to want to be noticed.
âWhatâs going on?â Tina asked, gaze darting from you to the Dio patch on Eddieâs back as he exited the building. She munched a french fry before wiping ketchup off her lip. âDid something happen between you and Eddie?â
You snapped a look at her. âYou know him?â
âWell, not intimately,â she ate another fry. âBut I went to school with him, and bought weed from him a few times.â
âHe sells weed?â You cocked an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised.
âItâs been like, a while, but maybe he still does. How do you know him?â
âWe work together,â you brought the half-eaten burger up for a bite and paused there. âI think he hates me.â
âI highly doubt that.â And then she stared pointedly at you when she said, âheâs cute,â with a knowing smirk.Â
âHa,â you adjusted the napkin on your lap. âWell, as you know, I plan to stay single for the rest of my life.â
âSure, sure.â
When it got closer to 6 that day, you scrambled to get off the phone with a customer, worried Eddie might slip out again and you wouldnât see him for the entire weekend. After hiding in the supply closet for a full minute to avoid Philâone of the other mechanics who liked to talk your ear offâyou finally made it to the break room, panting as if youâd just run a marathon.
Eddie was there, bent over to snatch a Pepsi out of the vending machine. Freezing in place, you suddenly forgot how to form words.
Eddie felt like an idiot, like for sure youâd caught on to the fact that heâd been finding shit to do for the past half hour just so he could be there to have some private time with you. He didnât like the idea of you closing up the shop by yourself, especially now that it was getting darker sooner.Â
And then fucking Phil wouldnât leave. His wife had relatives visiting, and he was shuffling around like a sad puppy trying to avoid going home. Eddie had to pretend he needed to take a shit just to get rid of him, and was halfway surprised the dude didnât follow him into the bathroom.
He usually brought his own lunch, but the snack and soda machines were always tempting. He knew how to open the damn things up and thought about doing some last minute grocery shopping to make up for his crappy wage. Â
You cleared your throat. âSo, what are you up to this weekend? Any fun plans?â
Eddie pulled his shoulders back and spun around at the sound of your voice, fisting the can in one hand and running the other through his hair. Heâd been growing his bangs out, and they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears. The length was so fucking annoying at times that heâd often considered chopping them to nubs.   Â
You were smiling at him, eyes bright and sincere, and it made him feel all fuzzy inside like his brain was made of cotton candy.
âMy day was good. You?â That was what came out of his mouth, and then he let out a silent, internal scream that made his ears ring.Â
But he recovered quickly. âI mean, I donât have any plans. I donât usually haveâŠI mean, my buddy Jeff and I might go see a movie, but not like major plans.â He didnât want to tell you he was taking a trip out to Rickâs on Sunday to beef up his supply for weekly customers. He sure as hell couldnât restore the van on the chump change he made at the garage.Â
You stared at him intently, softening when you realized he was nervous. Â
How could that be? Did you make him nervous?
You pulled a folded piece of paper out of your back pocket and held it up. âI found this at the laundromat. It says your band is playing at The Hideout on Tuesday. Is that still happening?â
Pinched between your thumb and forefinger was one of the handmade fliers Gareth had helped him make. Â
âWell weâŠyes-ââ he cracked open the lid of the soda and it fizzed everywhere, dripping down his arm and onto the linoleum floor. âShit, Iâll clean that up, donât worry.â
He didnât want you to get stuck having to get the mop out to clean again, so he put the leaking can down on the lunch table and went over to grab something to wipe it up. Â
He busied himself with sopping up the mess, albeit poorly, while you inched closer.
âI think I might stop by and check you guys out,â you saw that his face was red when he stood, chocolate orbs lit up in anticipation. âMaybe we could have a beer or something after?â
His cotton candy brain tried to filter his next thought, but it was too late. âWhat are you doing tonight?â
âTonight?â You blinked a few times. âIs your band playing somewhere tonight too?â
âNo, but Iââ the tip of his tongue slipped side to side between his lips. âIf youâre not busy tonight maybe we could go somewhere to eat or drink or hang out or something.â
âOr something,â a grin quivered in the corner of your mouth.Â
And then the two of you were just standing there, close enough for your breathing to fall into sync. Gathering up a nice helping of nerve, you reached an arm out and ran the back of your knuckles down the front of his shirt.
Eddie was vibrating.
Donât shit where you eat, son.
No disrespect Uncle, but fuck the job.
âAnything," he said softly, hope blossoming in his chest like those wildly palpitating hearts in cartoons. âAnything you want.â
#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson edit#mechanic!Eddie#Eddie Munson fanfiction#Somna's edits#eddie munson x reader#Wayne Munson#Eddie Munson fluff
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Hii, I absolutely love your Hotch fics in which he meets his adult daughter. Could we get one in which she is feeling down about something and he helps/reassures her?đđ
Itâs difficult to foster a relationship with someone when you donât get to see them. Even harder when the relationship is with your father who didnât know you existed for over two decades, and who works as a Special Agent in the FBI, spending half of his life in other states.Â
Lately it feels impossible.Â
Heâs just never home. When he is, he can't make it to dinner. You start to feel exactly as you had before you knew him, alone again, working hard to keep up in class, drained from your part time job, and always tired.Â
You should stay home and sleep, but tonight, your dad is free for dinner.Â
You wait on the corner of the street in the golden light of the restaurant. Itâs chilly out, and the sky is slowly darkening. You watch the road for the shape and bulk of Aaronâs SUV, relieved to see him on the way past. He parks in the parking lot, making a small stop into the trunk of the car before he makes his way toward you.Â
Heâs carrying a little white teddy bear wrapped in pink heart cellophane.Â
You know itâs for you, but itâs still sweet enough to surprise you when he smiles at you and encourages it into your hands. âHello,â he says, wrapping one arm around you quickly as he kisses your cheek.Â
Itâs always a shock, but never unwelcome.Â
âHi, Aaron.âÂ
âLetâs go in, yes?â he asks. âItâs too cold to stay out here. Were you waiting a long time?âÂ
You let him walk you to the entrance, where he gives his name to the hostess for the reservation, and together you follow her to a small table near a bay window. The trees outside are strung with tea lights. The restaurant smells like nutty chocolate ganache. You mentioned that you liked the desserts here the first time he brought you, and heâs continued to bring you here ever since.Â
You are undoubtedly getting to know one another. Youâve met Haley three times, and Jack five. You had dinner together only two weeks ago where he tried to show you how to keep spaghetti on your fork while failing to manage it himself. He was sweet, and Aaron was really good with him.Â
Youâd been jealous.Â
âWhatâs the bear for?â you ask.Â
âIâm trying to buy your forgiveness. Is it working?âÂ
You laugh without thinking. âMy forgiveness?âÂ
âSometimes, when I donât see Jack for a long time, he gets frosty with me. I know itâs poor parenting but Iâll bring home a souvenir in the hopes he wonât stay mad.âÂ
âThis is a souvenir?â you ask.Â
He sits with good posture, but his face is ducked apologetically. Itâs a kind sort of look, like he really is sorry. âI think I owe you more than that.âÂ
This regret heâs expressed before. You truly believe that he wishes he could go back in time and be there for you, which might be why it aches to think about it in detail. He wanted to be the loving, doting father. He just didnât get the chance.Â
âIt sort of⊠breaks my heart sometimes, when I see you,â you say.Â
Itâs a lot. You havenât even ordered your drinks.Â
âIt does?â he asks gently.Â
âI wishâŠâ You bite the inside of your cheek. Shake your head when you canât finish.Â
âIâm sorry,â he says. âI think about it a lot. I resent your mother.âÂ
Sheâs your mother, but yes. âI do, too.âÂ
You listen to the clatter of the kitchen somewhere deep in the building and the indistinguishable chatter of other families and dates where they sit around you. Your hand closes tightly on a napkin.Â
âAre you okay? You look tired, honey.âÂ
âMust be a Hotchner thing,â you say.Â
He laughs like you havenât just slighted him. âIt definitely is. Iâm getting the sense that youâre upset about more than your mother, though.âÂ
âHow would you know?â you ask genuinely.Â
Itâs his party trick. Youâre expecting a rundown: your hand moves a quarter inch to the left and shows your upset, or your nose twitches to betray your true feelings. But he doesnât need to use his special set of agent skills on you tonight.Â
âYou wonât look at me for very long. Itâs exactly like your brother.âÂ
You sniff ineffectually. âIt is?âÂ
He looks especially solemn, then. âI wish we didnât miss out on so much with each other, but Iâm here now, if you want me. You can tell me whatâs bothering you. I promise Iâll listen.âÂ
âAre you sure?âÂ
âIâve always heard worse.â He manages a smile. âNot that what youâre feeling isnât important.âÂ
âWell, I⊠itâs mostly the little things. You know school is hard.âÂ
âAt GWU? Itâs gruelling.âÂ
âItâs awful. I probably need a tutor.â You laugh. âMaybe. Itâs not so bad, and once this year is over, Iâm done, but I have my internship lined up for the summer, so Iâm trying very hard toâ to work as much as I can now. But working and studying all the time makes me tired.â Your cheeks heat at having spilled it all without finesse. âSorry, I know you work twenty three hours a day.âÂ
âHow many hours are you working a week?â he asks.Â
âUh, usually twenty-four. I try to do three shifts a week. Sometimes they want me after school, so itâs more like twenty-nine or thirty-four.â Or forty-four.
âAnd youâre studyingââ
âEvery spare minute.âÂ
He nods thoughtfully. âIâm sorry. It sounds hardâŠâÂ
âWhat?â you ask.Â
âIâm just thinking about something.â He licks his lips. âAnd youâve always worked? Since high school?âÂ
Your flush worsens. âYeah. I have to pay for school somehow, and to eat.â You quieten.Â
âWhat if you didnât have to work, honey?âÂ
You shake your head vehemently. âAaron.âÂ
âIâm serious. What if you didnât have to do so much? You need time to do nothing. Overworking yourself will give you an ulcer, trust me, and thatâs the last thing I want. I couldââ
âI canât take your moneyââ
âItâs not just my money. Does Jack âtakeâ my money?âÂ
âYou signed up for Jackââ
âAnd Iâm signed up for you. I want to be here for you, and this is what fatherâs do, okay? If they can, and I can.âÂ
âUnnecessary brag.âÂ
He ignores your joke. âEven if I could just pay for GWU. I know those textbooks are burning a hole in your pocket.âÂ
You refuse. Aaron promises to return to the subject when you arenât exhausted, and maybe youâll let him. It would be beautiful to wake up on a Saturday with nothing to do.Â
It would be nice not to miss your dad. Youâve done it your whole life, but now heâs real, and he seems to really care about you. When he hugs you after heâs paid for dinner, you want to be allowed to cling, and, as he tightens his hold, you realise you are.Â
âItâs so good to see you,â he says, rubbing your upper arm.Â
âYeah,â you mumble.Â
âCan I see you tomorrow?âÂ
You ease back. âReally?â Because you hadnât mentioned that you missed him, but he already knows.
He pats your arm. âYou know Iâd see you every day, if I could? Iâve missed out on enough already. Weâll take Jack to Olive Garden again and you can think a bit more on what I proposed.âÂ
âI canât take your money,â you repeat quietly.Â
âNot that, though you should. You can tell me anything, okay?âÂ
You breathe out as he steps away. âOkay.âÂ
He touches your cheek briefly. âOkay. Iâm proud of you. Youâre doing great.âÂ
âThanks, Aaron.âÂ
âYouâre welcome. Text me when you get home safe, all right?âÂ
You look at him for too long. âThank you,â you say again, moving in for another hug.Â
He props his head atop yours carefully. âYouâre welcome, honey.âÂ
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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"Any plans for your days off, Buck?"
Buck knows his grin is a little feral, but he's kind of hoping that'll throw them off the trail. It's barely been a year, and in that time they've had three natural disasters, one copter crash, a boss intent on making Buck's life a living hell, and two almost break-ups.
It's too soon, to know for sure, except Athena and Bobby had known, and Hen and Karen had known even if they were too scared to admit it at first, and Chim and Maddie may have taken a little longer to get there but they'd known.
And Buck knows. He knows he's never felt like this about anyone before. Knows no one has ever had the ability to infuriate him and calm his fears quite like Tommy Kinard can. Knows they could have done this like they joked about six months ago and they wouldn't have regretted it.
Hen is making a face like she's trying to decide if she wants to know whatever head-tilt-cheek-bite sexual innuendo Buck's got in the barrel, because she only appreciates that about half of the time and Buck's praying she decides on no because he's a terrible fucking liar and he doesn't like keeping things from people. But it's sort of a secret, for the next 48 hours, and Buck also wants to bask in it, wants to enjoy keeping it to himself for just a little while.
"Our Buckaroo is all grown up and refusing to over share about his sex life, praise be," Chim chips in, and Buck tucks his chin to his chest and hopes his pink cheeks read as embarrassed.
His phone buzzes in his pocket, and around him lockers slam and voices drift over him. He's only got eyes for the text that just came through.
Bird's ready, suits are pressed, room is paid up. You wanna go to Adele, after? I think I know one of her people.
You know everyone, stop bragging, I'm already impressed
I'm always gonna try to impress you. You still at the station?
Yeah but not for long. I'll see you in like forty
"--right Buck?"
Buck blinks, hums, stares across at Chim.
"Please tell me you're not sexting at work right now."
"Technically, we are off the clock."
"I'll remind Clipboard Buck of that next time he shows up."
He's zipping up his bag when his phone buzzes again.
See you soon, baby.
He's pretty sure he's gonna get away with it - Hen and Chim are arguing about some reality show as they all trudge toward the open bay doors, and though he can hear their voices further back, Eddie and Bobby still seem to be deep in conversation.
Ravi comes out of left field, because of course he does, just finished inventory still clutched in his hand as he rounds the engine closest to Buck. "Hey, Buck, you and Tommy wanna catch that movie tomorrow night? I picked up a shift but I've got like twelve off in between."
Buck winces. Damn, so close. "Sorry, bud, we actually won't be in town."
Which he's realizing now is pretty uncharacteristic of the both of them, and Hen and Chim have clocked it, so he's gonna have to make a run for it, but he catches sight of raised brows and questioning expressions and he can't give them nothing.
"Tommy's taking me to Vegas, we might see Adele, okay bye!"
They absolutely let him make a break for it, let him scramble into the Jeep, let him send them all a quick wave before he peels out of his parking spot, and Buck spends the drive to Harbor viscously ignoring the steady buzzing from his phone.
---
Tommy snags the backpack from his shoulder before he's fully out the door, and tugs a belt loop to pull him close. Buck is pretty sure he'll never get over how much he likes being manhandled, just a bit.
"You wanna tell me why Chim and Hen both wished us a good flight?"
"Ravi ambushed me on my way out the door. Technically, they don't know anything about anything, except maybe Adele."
Tommy's fond smile makes Buck feel all warm and tingly inside, and he basks in the glow as Tommy nudges a knee between the open bow of Buck's legs.
Tommy's expression morphs, a bit, lips dropping as he tilts his head. "You having second thoughts? We don't have to-."
"No. No second thoughts."
"Evan, I know how close you are to your family. If you want to wait, make this something you can share with them, we can hold off."
He's so goddamn charmed by this man - by how he cares, by how well he knows Buck, by a million and one tiny things that Buck gleefully hoards his knowledge of like a dragon over his caverns of treasure.
"I kinda don't want to share you, for this." It's the first time since Tommy's brought it back up that Buck's been able to express exactly why the prospect makes him so giddy, but there it is. Possessive jealous Buck rears his ugly head again, only Tommy has always been a little charmed by that. At least when Buck expressed it in a healthy way.
"The moment they know, it's gonna be a spectacle," Tommy agrees, fingers curling over Buck's side.
"Exactly. So. Take me to Vegas and wife me up before one of them shows up trying to tag along."
He expects the dramatic eye roll, and Tommy's fingers digging into his sides. He doesn't expect the ear-ringing whistle echoing through the bay door to their left, or the smirk on Lucy Donato's face when she lets her looped thumb and pointer finger drop from her lips.
"We should definitely go before any of them remembers to hit her up for more details."
"Why would she -."
"Yeah she caught a look at the manifest and snooped until she found the rings."
"So you're actually worse at keeping a secret than I am."
"They're all gonna know before we land back home."
"Hen's gonna break like thirty bylaws trying to decorate a county owned chopper."
"Evan, seriously, we can still -."
Buck only knows one sure-fire way of stopping Tommy from spiraling too much - he uses the little bit of leverage he has plastered to the open door of his Jeep to catch Tommy's lips, and the resulting pleased hum shivers down his spine. Evan takes a moment to be pleased that Tommy hadn't shaved this morning like he'd threatened, and then he's tilting his head for a better angle and losing himself in it long enough that a few more wolf-whistles make their way across the tarmac -- Wendell and York, most likely, but when Buck finally breaks the kiss to dart a look over Tommy's shoulder, everyone has made themselves scarce.
"You gonna marry me or not, Kinard?"
It's a rare thing, but sometimes, when Buck makes him a little extra wild, Tommy does this growling thing that Buck always feels down to his toes. Tommy kisses him breathless again when Buck responds to this growl with a satisfied smirk.
---
"How much you wanna bet Hen convinces you to do a vow renewal within six months."
Buck's busy nipping at a spot of flesh just above Tommy's transverse abdominis, so it takes a second for his brain to catch up with the words.
"It's gonna be Maddie, and she's gonna rope you into it before you realize what's happening."
Tommy hums, pleased, not denying it, and runs a hand through Buck's hair, palm curling over his crown. It takes Buck a moment to figure out why it doesn't feel quite as familiar as it always does, and then he's reaching for it with a hand of his own, the tips of two fingers sliding along the smooth metal surface of Tommy's ring.
The smile he shoots up from the general area of Tommy's groin is all puppy-dog grin, and he basks in the soft, warm grin Tommy sends back. Buck tracks the crinkle of Tommy's eyes like a lifeline.
"I'm gonna lord it over everyone's head that we didn't get married because of, during, or after a health scare or a natural disaster."
"You asked me two days after we made up because of a flash flood we both thought we were gonna lose each other to, but okay."
Tommy's smile is soft. The fingers that slide around his scalp to brush reverently over his birthmark are even softer. "That time doesn't count, because we didn't follow through. You thought I was joking."
He had, honestly, at first, because they'd technically still been broken up at the time and the adrenaline and the terror at nearly losing one another had still been close. It'd taken him three days and Tommy angrily re-ringing his house key back onto Buck's keychain to realize Tommy maybe hadn't actually been joking about hopping in the chopper the next time they both had 24 off.
He's glad they'd taken the extra time, though. Glad they'd had time to drive halfway across the state in search of a ring shop they could be sure they wouldn't run into anyone at, glad they'd had the time to get new suits tailored, glad he'd had time to fuss over vows he'd still cried about while he was saying them, glad they'd done it without an Elvis impersonator standing just off to the side.
"You're stuck with me now," Buck tells him, and Buck knows Tommy's delighted bark of laughter will keep him warm for years.
#one day i'll start a ficlet and keep it short#one day#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#tevan fic#is it still eloping if you've been secretly planning it for six months
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stranded | joel miller x f!reader
pairing: joel miller x afab!fem!reader
summary: you get stranded in the middle of a blizzard. joel comes to your rescue. you share a bed for warmth. things escalate from there...
warnings/tags: 18+ content, MDNI!, smutttttt yurrrr (vaginal fingering, unprotected piv sex, dubious consent, lil bit of somnophilia, joel is packinggg), no outbreak!joel, modern au, implied age gap, soft!joel, pet names (peach, baby, darlin', sweet girl, sweetheart), lil bit of joel being jelly, cuddling to keep the cold at bay, fluff, NO USE OF Y/N
word count: 7.6k (idk what the fuck happened)
âDamn it!âÂ
You press down hard on the gas pedal, grimacing when your engine revs but the car doesnât move an inch.
Your tires skid uselessly over the snow and your headlights reflect into a white wall of nothingâthe snowfall so thick you canât see anything in front of or around you, as if youâre trapped in a snow globe. The road is practically gone from existence.
The only thing you can hear is the wind whistling and the staticky sound of Carrie Underwoodâs âJesus Take the Wheelâ going in and out on the radio.
Yeah, you wish he would right about now.Â
âFuuuck,â you whine, eyes stinging with unshed tears. You hit your wheel in frustration, dropping your forehead onto the horn. It honks pityingly.Â
Of course, the one time you were actually going out, you had forgotten to check the weather.Â
Youâre probably going to die out here on this back road through the woods. Thereâs no one around, not that you can tell, and youâre low on gas. You were going to fill up once you got out of the woods and back into civilization, but the blizzard had other plans.
Your stomach rumbles, crying out for the dinner you had skipped in hopes of having a hearty, post-sex meal with the hook-up you areâor wereâon the way to see. Though, thatâs certainly not happening, and the snacks you usually had stuffed into the glovebox are gone, your sister having stolen them last week after you dropped her off at school.
(Darn that growing goober!)Â
You donât have anything that might prove useful in this situation besides the long, slim heels on your pumps (which could be used in defense), and the thin peacoat wrapped around your shoulders. You check your phone to see if you can call a towing company, but of course, it has zero bars.Â
âShit, shit, shit,â you whimper, pressing the heel of your palm to your watering eyes.Â
âItâs gonna be fine,â you say to yourself, picking your head up and rubbing away the tears in your eyes. You take deep breaths and put the car into park. âYouâll be fine.â
The sudden sound of a knock on your window startles you so bad you yelp, jumping in place as ice cold terror rises up your spine.Â
You can hardly see who had knocked, only their gray silhouette in the white blizzard.
The stranger knocks again.Â
âYou alright in there?â The shadow asks, a hint of a Texan accent curling their vowels. Shit. Itâs a man.Â
You slowly grab your shoe from your foot, holding it so the heel faces the window, and snow blows into your face as you carefully roll it down an inch or two for precaution, because who knows if itâs a fucking cannibal-axe-murderer who preys on unsuspecting women stranded in the snow. Maybe he does this every yearâmaybe this is his prime harvesting place and time.Â
Your eyes are wide as you peer through the opening warily, heel at the ready.Â
Heâs close enough now that you can make out a prominent scowl, hard brown eyes, salt and pepper hairâŠ
âŠwait a minute. Youâd recognize that glower anywhere.
âJoel?â
Your lungs suddenly remember how to work again, and you inhale on a shaky breath. The hand holding your shoe drops to your thigh in relief.
His brown eyes narrow. âPeachâŠ? The hell are you doinâ out here?â He asks, and Jesus you forgot about that stupid nickname he gave you. It sends butterflies loose in your stomach. âItâs a goddamn blizzard.âÂ
You scowl in exasperation, though, at his obvious observation. âYeah, I think I know that, Joel. What are you doing here?â
âI heard a honk, figured someone needed help.â He looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on the circles of mascara around your eyes. âGuess Iâm right.â
You straighten in your seat, the gratitude you feel at his presence is overshadowed by the need to look self sufficient and capable, because you are. Youâre a grown ass woman! SoâŠ
âI donât need your help,â you huff.
He arches a brow. âReally.â Itâs not a question.
You glower. âMaybe.â
Joel leans an arm on the frame of your car, and taps your window once more. âCâmon. Letâs go.âÂ
God, this is so embarrassing!
âFine.â You roll up the window and turn off the car. Joel tugs the car door open as far as it can go and offers a gloved hand to help you out. You wobble a bit when you step out in your heels, grateful that Joel is there to steady you. Though, the feeling sours a bit when he huffs in disbelief at your shoes.Â
You send him a glare, âI had plans for tonight, okay?â
âIn the middle of a blizzard?â He deadpans.
âIt wasnât that bad when I first started driving.â
âRiiiight,â he drawls, âWell, Iâm sorry to say, peach, but you ainât driving in this mess anymore. You can stay with me tonight.â He says, closing the car door behind you.Â
Stay? With him?Â
âJoel, I couldnât bother you withââ
âI wouldnât offer if it was a bother.â
Joelâs as stubborn as a bull, more so than Ellie. And she is stubborn. You donât argue, because itâs fruitless to argue with a brick wall like him. And, faced with freezing to death out here or staying in a well-insulated building, choosing the latter is obviously the right thing to do.
âOkay,â you relent and point to your trunk. âI have a bag back there.â
He raises a brow. âHeels and a bagâŠWhat kind of plans were we talkinâ about here?â
A hook up, Joel, you mentally drawl. BecauseâŠthatâs exactly why you were out.Â
Like hell youâll tell Joel that, though, heâd disapprove. Heâs always been the protective type. Youâve known him since your junior year in college, after your families practically merged. But youâve never seen Joel as another dad. Heâs always beenâŠsomething else to you.
âA trip to Nunya.â You supply instead of the truth, crossing your arms over your chest to try and conserve some heat.Â
âNunya?â Joelâs brows furrow.Â
âYeah. Nunya business, Joel.â You give him a sardonic smile.Â
He shakes his head and sends you a look youâre quite familiar with, the one that makes you feel inches smaller. And ten degrees hotter.Â
Joel sighs in exasperation and wordlessly wrenches the trunk open. He slings your bag over his shoulder as if it weighs nothing.
(It weighs a lot. Youâd know, you shoved five different erotica books in there, just in case your date failed to make you orgasm.)
(Though thinking about Joel probably wouldâve been enough.)Â
You lock your vehicle with a bemused glance. âWhat are we gonna do about my car?âÂ
âIâll tow it out tomorrow,â Joel says. âRoads are a fuckinâ mess right now.â
You trudge behind Joel to his quaint cottage sleeping cozily between tall pine trees and chubby evergreens. The porch light is on, and the windows glow a comforting orange. Puffs of smoke drift up from the chimney. It looks warm and inviting, like straight out of a Christmas movie.Â
Youâre impressed at how close you managed to strand yourself to his house. Maybe Jesus really did take the wheel.Â
Joel kicks the snow off his boots on his front porch, then opens the door, gesturing for you to enter first.Â
When you breach the doorway with Joel at your heels, warmth settles over your cold-bitten cheeks along with an alluring aroma of meat and tomato and spices that hits you in a wave. Youâve never seen Joel cook anything other than Chef Boyardee Beefaroni, or burgers on Tommyâs rusting grill before, so this is certainly a surprise. It could be Sarah or Ellieâs cooking, but last time you checked, Sarah could cook eggs and Ellie could cook, well, nothing.
âSo did you hire a personal chef to make whatever smells so good?â
He sets your bag down in the foyer with a grunt and shrugs out of his coat. âI made it.â
You canât help the disbelieving laugh that bursts out of you, and the slightly offended look on Joelâs face only makes it harder to stop. You cover your mouth with your hand, but youâre absolutely positive he can see the mirth lighting in your eyes.
Though heâs offended, thereâs a twitch to his lip, as if heâs trying not to laugh. âIâm perfectly capable of cooking.â
âIâm sorryâIâm sorry,â you try to stamp down your giggles. âYes, youâre capable but⊠is it edible?â
Your stomach decides in that moment to start rumbling, and he smirks.
âGuess youâll have to find out.â
You take your coat off and follow Joel towards the kitchen. As you follow, you take in his aggressively Texan decor and furniture. Paintings of cowboys and horses and mountains are hung artfully on cozy, beige walls. The Eaglesâ discography drifts merrily in the air from an old record player. Thereâs a guitar stationed in practically every corner. Itâs all so very Joel, though the random space ornamentals and butterfly drawings sprinkled about are so very Ellie and Sarah. It makes you smile.Â
âWhere are the girls?â You ask, because usually those little stinkers would be stationed at the dining room table, bickering over the answer to a ridiculously difficult math problem.
âAt Dinaâs,â he answers, taking off his gloves and dropping them on the table. âThey wanted to play in the snow.â
Oh. So youâre here alone with him. Anxiety prickles at the edges of your mind, sinking in your stomach.
âI guess I was the only one that didnât know about the blizzard, then.âÂ
âYou must be livinâ under a rock to not know about it.â
You grumble in protest, but your grievances disintegrate on your tongue as you enter the kitchen and near the simmering pot. You breathe in the aroma, the smell so powerful it's almost like youâre actually tasting it.Â
You look over your shoulder at him. âIs this chili?â
He nods. âWant some?â
âAbsolutely.â
He comes up beside you to open a cabinet. âGo âhead make yourself comfortable on the couch. Iâll bring it out to you.â Your mouth dries at the sliver of skin that peeks out beneath his flannel as he reaches up.
You force yourself to turn around. âWow. Such a gentleman, didnât realize you were capable,â you say, your saccharine sweet tone doing well to mask how flustered you feel. You can breathe easier the second you exit the kitchen and enter the living room.Â
His voice follows you. âA simple âthank youâ âstead'a this attitude would do you some good, y'know?"
"I know," you sing-song, grinning as you settle yourself down onto his couch, grabbing a blanket from a basket on the way. A fire crackles in the hearth and you study the flames with fascination as warmth spreads across your skin. You tug the blanket around you, pulling it up to your chin.Â
Joel emerges a minute later and your gaze darts from the fire to the bowl he holds out to you. âHere.â
âThank you, Joel,â you say emphatically, accepting the bowl and cradling it in your hands.Â
He smiles, âThere we go. Guess you do have some manners.â
You give him a half-bow. Joel just smiles in that familiar way, like youâre just so ridiculous he canât believe it. It makes your stomach curl giddily.Â
Having rolled up the sleeves of his flannel to his elbows, Joelâs forearms are on display, muscles flexing as he tosses another log into the hearth, and you drop your gaze to your chili, as to not get caught staring. He sits down in the armchair adjacent to you with his own bowl.
You blow on the steaming chili before taking a bite, an involuntary moan releasing from you the moment it hits your tongueâpaprika, peppers, tomato, cumin. It warms your stomach pleasantly. Who knew Joel could cook so well?
âThis is so good,â you mumble around your bite.Â
He swallows his own chili down, pupils large as he watches you. âEdible enough for ya?â
You nod enthusiastically, âIâm sorry I ever doubted you.â
âMmhmm,â he hums, unconvinced, but heâs smiling at you again, and you canât help but return it.Â
Comfortable silence lapses between the both of you as you eat your meals. Joel finishes first, of course, setting his bowl on the coffee table and leaning into his chair with a satisfied groan. He throws an arm over the back, spreading his legs. You watch him while he watches the fire, heat licking through you.
Eventually, after you slow down, you speak again.
âThank you, Joel, seriously, for letting me stay.â
His eyes find yours and he nods. ââCourse, peach. Wouldnâtâve let you freeze out there.âÂ
You nod and glance around, taking in his cabin. A large, stone fireplace is set in the wall, a tree trunk coffee table stationed in the center of the living room, some handmade wood carvings of horses and other animals scattered about. Thereâs a drawing of himself sitting on the mantel, âTo: Joel, From: Ellieâ signed at the bottom. Your heart swells.Â
âItâs been awhile since Iâve been here,â you remark.
âI know,â Joel says. âYou should come around more often. The girls miss you.â
Your smile turns shy and you feel a spike of bravery. âWhat about you? Do you miss me?âÂ
He takes a moment to answer, a veiny hand coming up to rub at his beard as he leans on the arm of the chair. Onyx eyes drag down your figure. ââCourse I do, darlinââÂ
Heat pools hot and thick between your thighs at that look, and youâre about to press him about how much he really misses you when a buzzing in your pocket captures your attention. Your phone. Guess you have some bars now.Â
marcus: where r u?
Oh right, the hookup!
you: blizzard blocked the roads. wonât make it tonight.
marcus: ok.Â
You scoff at the lack of depth in his response. Not even a âstay safe out thereâ? Jesus. You settle into the couch with a frustrated sigh, head thumping against the cushions, eyes falling shut as exhaustion creeps into you.Â
Boys always thinking with their dicks. Why do you even bother?
âWhatâs that about?â Joel asks. You peek an eye open at him. Firelight dances across his tan skin. He gestures to your phone. âThat gotta do with the real reason for your trip tonight?âÂ
You rub your temple, âYeah.â
He hums. "...Listen, I know it's none of my business butââÂ
"It was a hookup, Joel," you interrupt, already knowing where he was going with that. He tends to do that, beat around the bush so much until youâre desperate to just say it. More desperate than he was to know it. Youâd rather just skip that whole process.Â
"Oh,â his brows furrow.
"Yeah," you repeat dumbly, fiddling with the blanket.
"There, uh, ain't no shame in that, darlin'."
You quirk a skeptical brow, "I know."
"Alright," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact with you. Awkwardness settles between you.
"Things are just a bit dry," you supply, though you have no idea why you're still talking, or why you described yourself and the state of your love-life like that because Joel doesn't need to know that. Nobody needs to know that
But it captures his attention, because he's looking at you again, though this time annoyance is written on his features, along with something else you canât name, his eyes practically black. Damnit, you knew heâd disapprove, even if he claims thereâs no shame in it.
âAnd you went to some random boy for that?"
You straighten on the couch. "Who else am I supposed to go to, Joel? You?â Sarcasm drips from your words.Â
What the hell is he implying?
His gaze jumps to the fire, the muscles in his jaw clenching, his fingers flexing on the arm of his chair. "Never mind I said anythin'."
Your arms cross defensively over your chest. "I don't need your judgment, Joel.â
"I ain't judgin'."
"Sure sounds like it."
He stands abruptly, running a hand through his peppered locks. "I'm not, I justâlisten, it's gettin' late. You should sleep. I didnât have time to get the girlsâ room ready, do you want my bed?â
You shake your head, "Couch is perfectly fine, Joel. Thanks."
âYou sure?â
âYes, Joel. Iâm a grown woman who can handle her decisions.âÂ
"I know that.â Frustration laces his words. He sighs, hand coming up to rest on his belt. âJust... let me know if you need anythin'."
âYou got it.â
He turns the living room light off on the way to his bedroom down the hall. You donât watch him leave.Â
Once he's gone, you change into your pajamas and settle yourself on the couch beneath a blanket or two. The crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside lulls you to sleep faster than you expect.Â
-----
âFuck.â
The aggressive shivers that wrack your body are what wake you up in the middle of the night.Â
Your blanket is wrapped tightly around you, but itâs a thin, furry thing. Nothing like the down comforter you have at home. The fire has also gone out in the hearth, low flames flickering in the ash.
You pull the blanket up to your chin, curling in on yourself as the cold permeates your skin.Â
Aside from the chattering of your teeth and the squall outside, itâs eerily silent in the house. You realize, now, that the whooshes from the heating system you had grown accustomed to before are gone
Shit.
You reach for the lamp on the side table, pulling down on the chain. It doesnât turn on.
âShit.âÂ
You sit up, blanket wrapped around your waist. The power is out. The snow storm mustâve knocked out a power line. Itâs too cold to stay out here with only your thin blanket and the clothes on your back. And Joel had saidâŠ
Let me know if you need anythinâ.
You really donât want to bother him, but the goose flesh rippling across your skin and the pathetic way your lips are quivering, along with the shudders that wrack your body as it attempts to maintain homeostasis are not something you can just sleep through.
You tightly wrap your blanket around your shoulders and tiptoe down the hall. You can see a warm light from Joelâs bedroom, the flicker of a flame on the cream walls.
You slowly push the door open but hesitate at the sight of Joel buried comfortably beneath his comforter. You donât want to wake him⊠but his room is awfully toasty from the fire crackling away in his own hearth. And his bed looks absolutely heavenly.Â
You steel yourself and pad to the side he sleeps on.Â
âJoel?â You whisper. He doesnât respond.
You lean over to gently push his shoulder. âJoel.â
âMmââ His brows furrow, and he scrunches further into the blankets, reminiscent of a cat curling its paws over its head when woken up.
You push his shoulder again, a bit harder this time. âJoel. Wake up.â
He swats at the air, as if your hand is a fly buzzing around his ear. ââM awake,â he mumbles against the pillow.Â
âJoelâthe power went out. Iâm freezing.â
Heâs silent for a moment, eyes still shut. Heâs no doubt rolling the words around in his head, trying to make sense of them through a sleepy haze. Â
Then, when he does, he wordlessly scoots back and reaches for the comforter. He lifts it, offering the space next to him to you.
âCâmere.âÂ
You splutter, taken off guard by the invitation. âWhat? Joelââ
ââM not askinâ, peach. Câmere.â The last word leaves his lips like a command, and you straighten reflexively, apprehension holding your limbs hostage as want curls dangerously low in your abdomen at his tone of voice. That should be enough warning to not climb into bed with him.
You debate telling him to get his ass up and give you another blanket along with a couple more logs in the hearth so you can avoid any kind of proximity between you (lest you feel those capital-f Feelings), but you can practically feel the heat radiating from the bed and his body beckoning you in.Â
Oh fuck it.
You let loose a shaky breath and hesitantly slip beneath the covers, facing away from him. You stay glued to the edge of the bed, careful not to let any part of you touch him. Your legs curl into your chest for extra measure. Immediately, itâs so much better. So warm. So comfortable.
And it smells like Joel.
You inhale the earthy and spicy scent of him that lingers on the linen as your head sinks into the soft pillow, but your inhale chokes off as Joelâs strong arm snakes around your waist beneath the comforter, his large hand burning like a brand when it settles hot over your stomach.
He pulls you into him, the sheets swishing as he tucks you into his body. Your back slots against his warm, broad naked chest. His bare legs intertwine with yours, his pelvis almost flush against your ass, only covered by a thin pair of briefs.Â
Holy shit.Â
You can feel everything.Â
âJoel?â You question, voice quivering at the sudden closeness. âWhat are you doing?â
âKeepinâ you warm,â he mumbles against the nape of your neck.Â
You do feel warmer, though it might not be entirely because heâs holding you, but rather because of how heâs holding you. Heâs curled around you, like a koala around a tree, thighs bracketing yours.Â
You can feel his beard scraping at the nape of your neck, breaths puffing against your feverish skin.Â
His thumb is rubbing softly along the pudge of your tummy, palm branding your skin, his fingers dipping innocently beneath the hem of your shorts.Â
You can barely breathe, or even think, heartbeat stuttering as arousal pools liquid hot and heavy between your legs. Every unknowing twitch from Joelâs fingers makes it worse. Every touch of his calloused fingertips against your skin is pure agony. Every brush of your ass against his pelvis has you throbbing. You stare wide-eyed into the darkness, gaze roaming the pitch black, as if something out there could make you forget about the ever-growing desire you feel for Joel.Â
You canât sleep like this.
It seems like Joel can though, appearing to already be deep in slumber. He hasnât moved in a few minutes, his exhales even and slow against you.Â
You try to ignore the wetness between your legs, ignore the instinctual urge to roll your hips back against him. You should just go to sleep. But this ache you feel, pounding and deep and relentlessâŠYou have to do something about it, even with Joel holding you close.
He wonât mindâŠright?
But how are you supposed to touch yourself with Joelâs hand in the way?Â
You could just move it. Thatâs the right thing to do, but it feels too good, so hot and heavy on you that you just donât want to, and as a result, an idea so absolutely fucked worms its way into your mind, lust and desperation destroying any last semblance of rational thought. You couldâŠ
No. No. You canât do that. Heâs a human fucking being, not a hand shaped vibrator.Â
But⊠you really want to, and heâs asleep soâŠhe wonât even knowâŠright?
You make up your mind and slowly curl your fingers around Joelâs deadweight palm, biting your lip in concentration and shame as you carefully urge his hand further into your shorts. After each nudge of his palm, you wait to see if Joel gives you any sign of him being awake. But heâs dead asleep. After a moment, you keep going.Â
This is so fucked, but you canât bring yourself to care when you finally feel his thick fingers brush over your clothed folds.
âShit,â you whisper, breathlessly, holding back a whimper. You manipulate his hand so that his palm is resting large and warm over your aching clit, while his index and middle finger are placed heavily above your heat.Â
And then, you really say fuck you to your morals.Â
You give an experimental thrust of your hips into his palm, shuddering at the contact against your clit. Then you wait to see if Joel reacts, your head tilting a bit to look over your shoulder. But Joel hasnât moved, hasnât said a word. Good.
Confident he wonât wake, you rock your hips again and again, holding onto his hand with your own, pressing it down with each thrust of your hips to get that sweet contact. The heel of his palm bumps your aching clit with each thrust, and you bite back moans and whimpers well enough, but you canât hide the deepening of your breaths as you climb closer and closer to your climax.
Everything else fades away as you just focus on that one goal. On crawling over the edge. You hardly feel the growing smirk pressed to the back of your neck, or the way Joelâs cock is now hard against your ass as you grind against his palm.
âF-fuck,â you huff, eyes tightly shut as you ground yourself in his presence behind you, the beat of his heart thudding against your spine, the rise and fall of his chest, the light, unconscious brush of his lips on your neck. Closure is on the horizon as you imagine him lifting up on his arm and leaning over to actually get you off, his teeth biting down on your shoulder as he thrusts his fingers into your aching cunt.Â
âJoelââ you quietly moan.Â
The moment his name slips from your lips, his hand suddenly pulls back, and you let out a frustrated groan (he canât do that!), which quickly turns into a squeak of mortification (oh yes, he absolutely can!).
Because Joel is awake.Â
He. Is. Awake.
And he knows what you were doing, his chest rumbling against your spine as heâis he fucking laughing at you?
âNeedy girl, arenât you, peach?â
Mortification ignites in your cheeks, nausea pooling in your stomach. âJoel, oh my god, Iâm so sorryââ
His hand gravitates to your thigh, curling around it. He pulls it up, inserting his knee in between your legs and he griiiinds it into your clothed cunt. Your desperate apology is cut off by a reflexive wanton moan, your back arching as pleasure reverberates inside you.
ââS okay, baby, I understand. So fuckinâ desperate you had to use me while I was sleepinâ, huh? Didnât get what you wanted earlier so now youâre searchinâ for somethinâ else, hm?â
His large hand finds your waist again, sliding down your stomach to inch beneath both your shorts and your panties now. You gasp as his fingertips find your clit easily.
âIâm just a âlil offended I wasnât your first choice,â he chides, fingers slipping through your soaking folds. âBut I like this much better than you findinâ some boy to get you off. You needâa be fucked by a man, darlinâ. Ainât that right?âÂ
His words send heat straight to your core, thighs clenching around his knee as he ruts it against you while simultaneously stimulating your clit with his fingers.
âYes, Joel,â you moan. âNeed you.âÂ
His teeth scrape against your throat when he growls, âGoddamn right you do.â
You canât believe this is happening.
Joel slides his hand further into your panties, his middle finger curling in to sink into your soaked cunt. You choke on a gasp.Â
âWhoâs the guy?â He asks, randomly, while his finger rocks into you.
You canât think as Joel inserts his ring finger alongside the other, stretching you so deliciously. âW-what?â
âThe boy you were gonna see tonight. Who is he?âÂ
Who was it? Mark? Matt? And why does he care? You donât know, you donât care, only thoughts of Joel Joel Joel consume your waking being.Â
âIâI donât know, Joel. Please, oh my god.âÂ
He hums pityingly. âPoor thing can't even remember his name.â His other hand comes up to slide through your hair, gripping the locks at the nape of your neck. He tugs, and you melt. âIâll make sure you donât forget mine.âÂ
He doesnât need to worry about that.
Joel moves his thumb to circle your clit as he thrusts his thick, long fingers up and into you, curling them to hit that spot that has your heartbeat dropping between your thighs, desperate and loud and begging for release.Â
âHhhohâ Joel!âÂ
âThaâs right, baby. So goddamn wet. Youâve been dealinâ with this for awhile now, huh?â
You nod into the pillow on a broken moan as his fingers withdraw and sink into you at a steady pace, his thumb circling and circling and circling.
âWords, baby.â
You cry out, hands gripping the pillow. âYes, yes. Joel. Been wanting this fâso long.â
âShouldâa come to me first. Wouldâa helped you out a long time ago,â he drawls.
Yes you absolutely should have, based on how quickly youâre approaching your orgasm.
Your cries are so loud, but you donât care, focusing only on your pleasure and the feel of Joelâs mouth on your throat.Â
Youâre finally getting what you want. And fuck, is it amazing.
Your eyes roll back as it all builds up inside you, Joelâs hand unrelenting as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.
Youâre scorching, everything hot and intense, your stomach tightening, your legs stretching out as the pleasure builds and builds.
Fuck, youâre gonna cumâ
It rips through you violently, eyes prickling with tears, your thighs clenching as your walls bare down repeatedly around Joelâs fingers, making him groan.Â
âGood girl,â Joel murmurs, hand eventually inching out of you and your shorts to squeeze your thigh appreciatively as aftershocks run through you, thighs quaking and clit throbbing. âThatâs what you needed, huh? Sâit feel good, cumminâ all over my fingers?â
His fucking voice!
âMhmm,â you hum in agreement, sinking into the sheets, eyes drooping shut as pleasure lulls you to sleep.Â
He tsks, âWake up, darlinâ I ainât done with you yet.â
His beard scrapes against your neck as he moves to your ear.
âItâs my turn to use you.â
Your eyes shoot open. Fuck.Â
Joel pulls your panties down your legs as far as he can, and you squirm to wriggle them off of you.
He pulls away for a moment, but when heâs back, the bare, hot, thick length of him is pressed between your ass cheeks, and a full body shudder runs through you.
Holy shit, heâs big.
He grips your thigh again, but this time he throws it over his own. And then you feel it, the slick head of his cock as he guides it through your folds.
Oh fuck.
âYou okay, peach?â He asks, laying a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Now you have tears in your eyes for an entirely different reason. His hand slides across your waist and up beneath the hem of your shirt, palming your breast. Your nipples tighten.Â
Your mouth feels dry and you swallow down a lump of lava. âY-yes, Joel.â
âGood. Wanna give you all of me, howâs that sound, darlinâ?â
You will take whatever, anything you can get from Joel.
âGood, Joel. Yes, please, oh my god.â Â
âThere are those manners.â
A desperate whine slips from your lips as he directs the head of his cock into you, slowly and carefully, his hand running up and down your thigh in comforting strokes. God, heâs stretching you so much, hot and thick and pulsing inside you. Itâs almost painful, but itâs a welcome pain.
âJesus, Joel,â you moan when he stops to let you breathe, âYouâre so big.â
âI ainât even halfway in yet, darlinâ.â
âW-what?â How is that even possible?Â
âYou can take it.â He says, sliding in some more and fuck you donât have much of a choice. but you can, and you will because he feels too fucking good, and youâre ready for him to make you feel it into next week.
âIsâŠis it all the way in yet?â You ask, thoroughly stretched and filled.Â
âAlmost, sweet girl,â he breathes. âGoddamn, youâre tight.â
That makes you clench down even more, and he releases a pained groan behind you. âRelax, darlinâ, câmon.â
You do your best and let yourself sink into the bed, taking deep breaths and concentrating on the crackling of the fire.
And then, he thrusts fully into you, filling you up completely, and your mind is right back to him, a soft cry slipping from your lips into the pillow.
 âThere we go, thaâs it. Good job. Taking me so well,â he croons, stroking your side.
âF-fuck me, Joel, please move.â
He squeezes your ass in his large palm in retaliation to your command. âYou use me, I use you, remember?â
But he listens anyway, likely desperate to move himself, because then heâs gripping your hip with a large hand and pulling back just to sheath himself fully into you once more, his cock head bumping against your cervix, and holy fucking shit.
âJoel!â You cry, and he leans over to kiss you, teeth biting at your plump lower lip as he thrusts into you again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
He rolls into you at a steady, bruising pace, and youâre practically boneless as you just take it. Cries and whimpers and moans spilling out of you like a gas leak as he mouths down your throat, sucking and biting and oh my god this is way better than just getting yourself off on his hand.Â
Then Joel shifts, pushing at your side to press your stomach into the mattress. You whine as he pulls out of you to situate himself behind you. He grabs your hips with both hands and pulls them up and backwards, easing himself back into you until your ass meets his skin, then he rolls his hips, driving his cock deep from a brand new angle.
All you can do is sob into the pillow.Â
Heâs so fucking big, so fucking deep you canât think of anything else besides him and his wonderful cock, or the filthy things heâs whispering into your shoulder blades.
His large hand plants itself on your spine, and your hands scramble for purchase on a pillow.
âSweet girl, taking me so fuckinâ well,â he purrs. âYou were desperate for this cock, huh? God, I wish you could see yourself. Split open on me like this. Your little boy toy wouldnât be able to fuck you like this, ainât that right?"
You shake your head. God, why did you even make that dick appointment in the first place?
You hadnât even realized what being fucked by a âreal manâ meant until now.
Joel knows how to fucking deliver, you guess thatâs why heâs so successful in his contracting business. Heâs delivering you straight to that blessed release.Â
You clench around the girth of him, the filthy sounds of your arousal echoing in his room along with the cracks and snaps from the fire burning steadily in the hearth.
If you couldnât sleep before, you definitely will be able to after this because youâre mindless as he fucks you into oblivion.
âJoel, fuckâmmphâ!âÂ
âYeah, thatâs right. Canât say anythinâ but my name.â
His breathing has become more labored, desperate grunts escaping his lips as his cock twitches inside of you. Heâs getting close, deep and gravely moans falling out of him as his thrusts become harder and more sporadic.
His hand sneaks around your front, spanning your entire stomach as he slides down to your soaking folds, his middle and ring finger finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and giving them a gentle tap before circling, using that same method from before that had you squirming.
You writhe on his length, legs falling out beneath you as your orgasm swells within you.Â
âPlease Joel,â you whimper into the pillow.Â
âIâve got you,â he promises.Â
Itâs there, filling your body, building and cresting and searing white-hot through your limbs.Â
And then he thrusts a certain way, hitting that spot within you, and his fingers are circling andâ
Yeah.
You fall boneless to the mattress as you come apart, your arousal coating Joelâs cock as he continues to fuck you through your release, stroking your spine. Pleasure floods through your body as the tension releases, and tears freely fall as you cry into the pillow.
Because goddamn it!
How can something feel so good?Â
And then Joelâs pulling out of you and letting loose a long, satisfied moan as he comes all over your back, hot stripes painting you.Â
He collapses next to you, groaning something about his back.
And you canât help but laugh, delirious and soft, and Joelâs laughing too, brown eyes sparkling. His calloused hand comes up, runs his thumb along your jaw, and heâs smiling at you, soft and unlike anything youâve ever seen before.
âYou alright, peach?â
âOhhh yeah,â you giggle, sighing with contentment.
Youâre gonna be feeling this for days, just like you wanted.
Joelâs lips brush against your forehead gently, and youâre too tired to acknowledge it, slumber pulling you under far too quickly. You think you can feel the gentle swipe of a wet washcloth on your back before you pass out.
-----
âFuckâŠâ
The bed is empty when you wake, and a spike of anxiety shoots through you as you sit up. A fire still crackles in the hearth, a fresh log dropped in the ash. On the night stand is a note, beneath it, one of Joelâs t-shirts, your jeans, and a pair of your underwear.Â
Mortification climbs through you as you read:
Peach,
My bathroomâs on the left if youâd like to shower. I hope you donât mind, I went through your bag to get you some panties underwear. Lot of books in there. You sure like to read.
Oh god, he found your erotica stack. The covers are not misleading, either, he definitely knows what kind of books they are. You force yourself to keep reading through the humiliation.
Iâm out picking up Sarah and Ellie, Iâll be home soon. Thereâs pancakes on the counter. Weâll tow your car when I get back.
Alsoâabout last nightâŠwe donât have to talk about it, if you donât want to. But, I want you to know that if you ever need something like that again, Iâm here. And for anything else. Iâm here. Always.Â
See you soon.Â
Warmth fills your body and you reread those last sentences over and over.Â
Always. Does he really mean that?Â
You check the alarm clock on his nightstandâitâs eleven fucking a.m. Holy shit, you havenât slept that late in a long time.Â
When you stand, an ache radiates through you, and memories of last night flit in your mind and along with them, a fresh new wave of arousal. You scramble for the shower.
You emerge fresh and clean twenty minutes later, smelling like Joel, having only his body wash and shampoo to use. Each inhale is practically torture, and the ache between your legs is just another reminder. Seeing yourself in his shirt makes it worse. You try and push it away.
You descend the steps, halting when you hear the sound of Ellieâs voice from the kitchen.
âAnd I was like, pew pew! And I got both of them out!â
Sarahâs scoff of disbelief follows. âNuh-uh! You didnât even hit me!â
You creep down the steps, smiling a bit at Ellieâs outcry of âYes I fucking did!â, and then you hear itâJoelâs low laugh, the Texan drawl.
âYou kiddos are gonna drive me crazy. Just eat your damn pancakes.â
âWhyâd you make these in the first place? You donât even like pancakes,â Sarah teases.Â
âUhâŠâ
You decide you should probably help him out. âHey girls.â
Three heads snap in your direction. The eyes of one skirting down your body, a blush creeping across his cheeks. The other two brighten in shock.Â
âWhat are you doing here!â Ellie gasps.Â
âWe havenât seen you in forever!â Sarah adds.
You enter the kitchen and come up behind them to pull them in for a hug, your arms hooking around their necks. You smush their cheeks against yours. Ellie grumbles, Sarah laughs.
âI know! Iâve missed you guys so much. Iâm just super busy with being an adult and all that shit,â you say, letting them go so they can breathe. You round the island, grabbing a plate and stacking two pancakes on it.
âWell, stop being busy. We miss you,â Ellie says.
âIf I could, I would.â
âWhy are you wearing Dadâs shirt?â Sarah asks, eyes narrowing, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips.
âIâumââ the question catches you off guard, and you scramble for an excuse, eyes flicking to Joel desperately. He clears his throat and crosses his arms over his broad chest, now covered in yet another, dark flannel. How many does he own?
âSnowstorm stranded her here last night, and she didnât have any clean clothes,â Joel says, definitively.
Itâs not a lie at all, and yet, it feels like one.
Sarah and Ellie exchange a look that says, yeah fucking right. You shovel pancake into your mouth to try and cool down the blush in your cheeks.Â
âSpeakinâ of,â he continues, âIâve got the tow dolly all hooked up so when youâre done, we can tow your car out.â
âGreat. Thank you, Joel.â
His brown eyes flick between yours, his hand coming up to rest large and warm on your shoulder. ââCourse, sweetheart.âÂ
You finish your pancakes without any more embarrassing questions from the girls, thank God, and then youâre out in the snow wearing a pair of Joelâs boots stuffed with socks (theyâre too big, but theyâre better than heels) and bundled up in one of his coats, watching Joel tow your tiny car out of the snowbank.
Itâs just as cold as yesterday, though the dreary sky has cleared into a baby blue, the sun bright and high above the clouds. The roads are clearer, the snow plows having come by not too long ago.Â
You grimace as you hear your car groan and creak as Joel pulls it out of the snow, big puffs of it falling off the roof in clumps. Eventually, itâs on solid ground once more, and he tows it back toward his cabin.Â
Back in the driveway, Joel hops out of his truck and double checks your car. He pats the roof of it when he deems it accetable. âAll good to go, sweetheart.â
You sigh in relief, âThank you so much Joel, seriously.â
He nods, though he looksâŠnervous for some reason. ââCourse, darlinâ. Glad I could help.â
You donât really want to leave, but youâve bothered him long enough, so you stroll to the driver's side and go to open it, but suddenly Joelâs hand comes down to keep it closed. You look up at him confused.Â
His expression is hard, serious as he looks down at you. âDo you regret last night?â
Well. You were not expecting that. You thought that, maybe, it would just remain undiscussed. A blip. Something you both shared, but never spoke of again. You know your answer, though.
 âNo. I donât.â
âGood,â he says, eyes dark, âme either.â
He opens the door for you, pauses for a second then shuts it, voice desperate. âI just need to say this, before you go.â
You nod, encouraging him to go on.
He takes a deep breath, rakes a hand through his graying locks. Pinches the bridge of his nose, and shuts his eyes tight. When he opens them again, there's a hard determination in them. Your pulse quickens, your legs turn to jelly.
âI like you, peach,â he says. âI understand if you donât want to be with me because of the whole single father thing. And, also because Iâm me. But I just thought Iâd tell you how I felt, because,â he huffs out a laugh, shakes his head, âIâm thinkinâ you might like me, too.â
Your hands are shaking, and not because of the cold. Maybe you should buy a lottery ticket with how lucky you've been these past fifteen hours.
âIâve liked you since the moment I met you, Joel," you confess.Â
âOh,â he says, breathless, and a smile pulls at his lips.
âYeah,â you breathe, your own grin forming to match his.Â
The breeze shakes the evergreens, drifting flakes of snow onto Joelâs graying hair. His nose is reddened by the biting cold, but his eyes are warm as he smiles down at you.Â
âNot gonna lie to you sweetheart, Iâm kind of glad you got stranded here.â
"Yeah, me too," you laugh, and then you pull him down to you, pressing your lips against his, smiling into the kiss.
This kiss is the exact opposite of the one he gave you last night. Itâs careful, sweet, tentative. He reveres your mouth, rather than ravishes it. Youâre both bundled in multiple layers, standing in the freezing cold rather than lying naked in a warm bed.Â
And yet, itâs just as perfect, if not more.
Eventually Joel pulls back, hands heavy on your waist. Heâs still grinning. His hands frame your face, his thumb running softly along your cheekbone.Â
âPeach,â he says. âWould you like to stay for dinner?â
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#tlou#tlou fic#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#joel miller
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Osoyoos Lake, WA (No. 4)
Oroville was first settled by European settlers in the late 1850s and known as 'rag town.' The settlement was named Oro, after the Spanish word for gold, in 1892 after the surrounding gold mines and in an attempt to attract prospectors and merchants. The Post Office objected to the name "Oro" because a town was already named "Oso" in Washington, so the name was changed to Oroville, in 1909. Oroville was a stop along the Spokane Falls and Northern Railway line from British Columbia to Spokane, via Molson and Chesaw. In 1914 a third branch south to Wenatchee was constructed to avoid the steep inclines on the original Spokane track.
Passenger train service to Oroville was operated by the Great Northern Railway until July 14, 1953, with freight operations continuing later.
Oroville started to become a tourist location in the mid-2000s, large condo developments were proposed. After peaking in 2005â07, the cityâs economy has suffered since the Great Recession of 2008. Oroville is home to the Dorothy Scott Airport, an international municipal airport with U.S. Customs check, located two miles outside of the town center. The airport opened in August 1937.
Source: Wikipedia
#Deep Bay Park#Oroville#travel#vacation#tourist attraction#USA#summer 2023#landscape#countryside#north-central Washington#Washington#Pacific Northwest#Okanogan County#Okanogan Highlands#lake shore#nature#flora#tree#lawn#landmark#waves#architecture#small town
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Deja Vu
Itâs been months since you two broke up and Jeno got a new girl now. Sheâs pretty, nice, and exactly his ideal type. And yet, the ghost of you still lingers, maybe because Jeno brings her to the places you two used to go.Â
Deja vu? Maybe. Or itâs just Jenoâs not over you.Â
Word count: 2.2k
Tags: angst, fluff, ex to lovers (?) cheating if you squint really REALLY hard.
Song inspiration: Deja Vu by Olivia Rodrigo
AN: TDS3 D3 Jeno went topless and it was a sign for me to finish this fic.Â
Also this is part two of this fic. Read it so that you can have more context, but this can still serve as a stand-alone.Â
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
âSo, where is this ride going?â you asked.Â
âIf I told you, itâll ruin the surprise,â Jeno replied. A smile plastered on his lips as he took a quick glance at you before focusing on the road.Â
It was five in the afternoon. The sunâs slowly setting, and the skyâs painted in its godly gold. Itâs bright and warm, as the sunâs shine passed through the window of Jenoâs Ford Mustang. You just finished your last exam for the semester. After nights of cramming and chugging down coffee, youâre finally free from the semester. Vacation is just around the corner, and whatâs the perfect thing to celebrate the end of semester other than celebrating it with your boyfriend?
You watched as Jeno drove smoothly across town, going down the coastal area where the sunsetâs more pleasing to watch. You slide across the bridge and the next thing you know, the sunâs following you through the long bay of your townâs beach.Â
Jeno knows how much you love the beach. Itâs a safe place for you where you can get away from your university. So you two just usually hangout around the coast.Â
Your boyfriend parks the car near the baywalk. He quickly turns off the engine, and just like the usual thing he does, he leaves the car first and opens your car for you.Â
âYou donât always have to do this, you know that?âÂ
âBut I want to,â he said casually just like the way his arms wrapped around your shoulders immediately, pulling you closer to him. You only smile as he gives you a small kiss on the head.Â
âSo, where are you taking me?â you asked once again.Â
Jeno only hums as he stops, thatâs when your eyes widen at the shop in front of you.Â
âNo way!â you shouted.Â
âThey just opened yesterday, so why not celebrate with a cup of yoghurt?â Jeno smiled.Â
âOh my god, Iâve been craving for it for so long!â you shouted.Â
Jeno only smiles, internally patting himself good job. He knows everything about you, and he knows how lately youâve been obsessed with yoghurt. Whether it be a drink or served in a cup, youâll love it somehow.
âDid I ever tell you that I love you?â you asked your boyfriend who only lets out a chuckle before stealing a kiss on you.Â
âI love you too bub, now come on, itâs a do-it-yourself, so get as many toppings as you want.â
When you entered the shop, you immediately separated from your boyfriend, eager to have a cup of yoghurt. Jeno watched as you grabbed a large cup before going to the yoghurt machine. He was smiling ear to ear as you moved to the topping and sauce section, picking carefully your toppings because youâre still a picky eater nevertheless.Â
Eventually, he joins you as he grabs a medium cup and picks some toppings that suit his taste. After weighing the cup and paying for the dessert, the two of you went out where an al fresco area can be found. You two sat at the corner, digging on the delectable treat that you two are having.Â
The sun is setting and youâre halfway on your cup, you could only stare at the sun. feeling overwhelmed but in a good sense. You finally finished your semester and your boyfriend brought you to a yoghurt shop. You couldnât help but to smile. Things are better and you just feel so lucky to be here right now.Â
âHaving deep thoughts again?â Jeno asked, knowing that you tend to space out sometimes.Â
âNo, no deep thoughts,â you told him. âJust happy right now.â
âOh really?â Jeno teases, âcan I ask why?â
You only smiled, âof course because schoolâs over, and I have my handsome boyfriend treat me my favorite dessert at the moment.â
Jeno only smiled, gazing at you lovingly. He wonders if days are going to be like this. He likes this life of his. In this town where itâs just you and him, in a small yoghurt shop, with the sun setting on the background.Â
And as Jeno stares at you, he couldnât help but be in awe. Thinking how lucky he is to have a girlfriend like you.Â
Your attention shifted to him, making him stare at you even more lovingly.
âJeno,â you called out.Â
âWhat?âÂ
âYouâre spacing out,â
âWhat makes you think of that, yn?âÂ
âYn?â
Jenoâs eyes widened.Â
âWhoâs yn?âÂ
The girl in front of him is not you. Her hair is in a different shade, falling along her shoulders, unlike yours who you usually tie in a messy ponytail whenever youâre eating something. Sheâs pretty, definitely pretty that it can make anyone turn their head.Â
They stared at each other for a minute. Thatâs when Jeno realised that your name slipped onto his lips.Â
Fuck. He thought. Thatâs when he remembered. Itâs been months ever since you two broke up. Months after that night that was full of frustrations and arguments. Jeno barely recalled what you two argued about but he knew that you were crying and instead of comforting you, he stormed out of your place.
You two didnât break up that night officially, you called it quits over a text three days later. Instead of calling you, Jeno lets it be. Thinking that you two were just never meant to be.Â
Unlike you, Jeno found it easy to get over you. Heâs a charming guy, so it was quick for him to find another girl that he can love again.Â
Or so he thought. Because as he stared at the girl in front of him, he couldnât believe that he called her by your name.Â
âNothing, itâs nothing, sorry,â he quickly apologised. Shifting his attention to the melted yoghurt on his cup.Â
Maybe it was his fault. For bringing her to the places you two went. Jeno knows that there are a lot of places where he can bring her, but why does he always end up in the coastal area? On a particular yoghurt shop that you love?Â
Jeno couldnât help but to question it. He thought that heâs over you but it seems like the ghost of you still keeps on haunting him.Â
You whoâs always cheery. You who always have a certain sweet treat every semester. You who loves bringing your polaroid camera and taking photos of the people you hang out with.Â
You, who was there for Jeno. Who loved him despite his flaws and even though he is lacking in some parts, you ignored it and loved him nevertheless.
He wasnât perfect, but you werenât looking for a perfect boyfriend. You love Lee Jeno no matter what. And you always say that to him.Â
âHey Jen, Iâm done here, should we get going now?â Jeno snapped out once again when she spoke out again.Â
He stares at his yoghurt. Itâs all melted and doesnât look appetising at all. He then glances at the sun and itâs barely touching the sea. If it was you whoâs with him, you two will wait until the sun sets and set out when the stars are in the sky.Â
But youâre not with him anymore, and heâs with a new girl. Whoâs pretty, whoâs nice, and is exactly his ideal type. Jeno had accepted it, after all. Itâs not only him whoâs moving on. He knows that Mark Leeâs making a move on you. He watched as you laughed with him over a cup of coffee a few weeks earlier.Â
So it seems like you two are moving on. Good for you. He thought. You deserve someone better than him. While he knows that there are no other girls that can surpass you, Jeno hopes that at least for his side, he can be a better man for his new girl.Â
The ride home was nothing but an awkward tense. Jeno keeps on glancing at her, whoâs too busy on her phone. If it was you, your eyes would linger on the view outside â even though youâve grown up in this area, you always love staring at the view. But at some time, youâll shift your gaze at Jeno, whoâll reciprocate your giggles with a soft chuckle. His free hand lacing around your fingers, never letting you go until you reached your place.
âWatch out!â and luckily, Jeno stepped on the brake quickly. His eyes staring at the dog that just passed by.Â
âIâm sorry, I didnât ââÂ
âNo, of course not! The dog suddenly jumped out of nowhere,â she said in a soft tone, smiling as she pats Jenoâs shoulders. âYou prevented it too, and thereâs no accident that happened, so itâs okay.â
Jeno could only let out a sigh. Somehow, he feels like blaming himself because of the incident, if it wasnât him thinking about you, then maybe heâll be more concentrated on his drive. He tried to focus on the road, but youâre in his mind no matter how hard he tries to shake the thought of you.Â
He didnât notice that he just reached her place. It was as if he was driving out of instincts.Â
âThanks for dropping me off,â she said, smiling.Â
âNo worries,â Jeno only said, and before she left, she gave Jeno a soft kiss on the cheeks. Jeno watches as she gets out of the car, walks through her apartment and closes the door.Â
But Jeno couldnât move from his seat. He doesnât know what to do. Frustrated, Jeno lets out a sigh as he rests his head on the headboard. He doesnât want to fuck up. He already ruined your relationship, he couldnât bear to ruin another one too.Â
âIâm so stupid,â Jeno whispered. He opens his eyes and looks at the road. He knows that deep inside, heâs not yet ready to enter another relationship. Itâs too soon.Â
Not when you spent three years together, and broke up abruptly. Throwing everything you two had. Never had a decent closure or even a proper apology from each other because of what happened that night. No. The only thing Jeno wants more is to find closure from you, and perhaps, in the better light,Â
you two can finally move on and find someone better.Â
Jeno knows that partly, itâs his fault that things went downhill. So it's up to him to fix everything. He turned on the engine, and without any hesitation, drove to a familiar route that he memorised by heart. It was a gamble, but Jeno was willing to see the outcome of his indecisive decisions.Â
As he reached your place, Jeno didnât hesitate to turn off his engine, leaving his car as soon as possible.Â
He walks towards your apartment, a sense of familiarity welcomed him. It felt like home and Jeno tries to brush off that feeling â that odd sense of missing a place that has been a home for him for years.Â
Jeno stops in front of your door. He lets out a deep sigh before knocking on the door. For a minute, no one answered.
He knocks once more. Two, three, four loud knocks, in hopes that it can be enough for you to open the door.Â
But within a minute, no one answered. Jeno took it as a sign. That maybe closure isnât for you two. Jeno tried to ease his beating heart â he didnât even notice that it had been beating abnormally ever since he arrived at your place.Â
So he turned his heels around, walking a few steps when he heard the door open.Â
âJeno? What are you doing here?âÂ
As he turned around, Jeno was shunned.Â
There you are, with your hair in a mess, wearing your favourite cinnamoroll-patterned pajamas. He saw how your round eyes became wider as he made eye contact with you â both yearning for something.Â
âIâŠI ââ Jeno decided to go near you. âI just, want to ask you how you have been.âÂ
That was stupid. That was so fucking stupid. Jenoâs mind was barely functioning when those words slipped out of his mouth.Â
But you didnât take it into something. You were just surprised. Jenoâs in front of you. The sense of familiarity to the man in front of you is still there. His scent, presence, and the feelings you had for him. Itâs all still there.Â
And you donât know why, but maybe you just wanted to see if he still loves you.Â
Because instead of answering him, you grabbed him by the neck and smashed your lips onto his.Â
But in a quick second, you realised that what you did was stupid. You broke out of the kiss, and yet your hand remains on his.Â
Jenoâs gaze shifted from a surprised one to something more familiar. Lovingly. You knew that stare, youâve always loved that stare of his. You know that because youâre the only one who he gave that gaze with.Â
And the next thing you knew, his lips crashed onto yours. You couldnât help but to kiss him back with more intensity. His arms instinctively hold your waist as you attempt to balance yourself. He pushes you backward, making you two enter your apartment without breaking the kiss.
#nct dream#nct imagines#nct dream fic#nct fic#nct x reader#nct jeno#nct#nct dream imagine#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct dream imagines#nct jeno imagines#lee jeno#jeno x reader#jeno imagines#jeno fic#lee jeno fic#nct dream jeno fic#nct jeno fic
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hey there! youâre like the one of few blogs that still write for bigby! youâre single handedly keeping my obsession alive with him. do you have just any random head cannons about him that you can share!
I'm doing it just for you pookies >:) Ima give you some romance headcanons
If Telltale won't give me more Bigby, I will always deliver
Also FUCK i missed doing headcanons, please send in some ideas
đThis man is fucking dedicated to you and only you. As much as he hates the jokes about being a loyal dog or even a lap dog, it's kind of true when you both get serious.
đHe cuts down on his smoking as much as he can. Bigby often smokes to dull his supernatural senses just to avoid sensory overload. However, when you both got together, Bigby noticed something worked even better than Huff n' Puffs: Your scent. What's the point of smoking upwards of almost two packs a day when he can inhale that sweet sweet scent of yours?
đBigby tries to make himself more presentable at first. He feels like he has to make a good impression despite you both knowing each other for centuries. He shaves more to keep his ever-growing stubble at bay, he keeps himself groomed and washed, he starts to use his cologne more, he even puts more effort into his laundry to get the ash and whiskey stains out of his shirts and pants.
đHe is a sucker for kisses on his cheek. Whether you have to stand on your toes or bend down, you can find him faintly blushing and looking away sheepishly from the act of romance. If you kiss him on the cheek while he's smoking, the poor cigarette would burn up fast and Bigby would almost choke on the smoke.
đBigby's love language is definitely acts of service. Bigby loves doing things for you, especially the little things that really drive it into him how much he craves a domestic life. Unfortunately, Bigby is sometimes too busy to be there for it to be quality time - but fuck if he doesn't absolutely love every minute he spends with you. He isn't good with words at times which has lead to very awkward moments and even funnier ones. Bigby never had an eye for gifts and has little experience with them, but he fucking loves whatever you get him even if it's a new tie.
đBigby loves dates where it takes place in nature, especially at night when there are less people out and about. Walks through Central Park, night treks through botanical gardens, going down the boardwalks in Staten Island, resting on the cold sand of the beaches. There was one date you both went on at the beach at night where it was just the two of you along the balmly coast. You and Bigby were messing around near the waves when you both somehow ended up knee-deep in the waves. Bigby had you in his strong arms, holding you close as you both laughed and kissed before you playfully splashed water on him. It was safe to say you both ended up at his apartment soggy.
đIf you ever wanna make this man blush heavily: Compliment him. And do not let up. Bigby likes the act annoyed at first, hiding his face by turning away and playfully scoffing only for him to break and flush at your sweet words. He loves it especially if you compliment him on the things that normally make people uneasy. His gaze, his strength, his wolf.
đBigby, at first, was uneasy turning with you around. He was worried that you would be terrified of him, and that was something he couldn't handle at the time. Despite the fact that you knew what he was before and now after the Homelands and even seeing all of him, he still wasn't excited to show them at first.
đYou're the only one who can say things that someone would say to their pet pooch, but only to a limit. Saying stuff like 'Good boy' however is a good way to rile him up, especially if you say it all sultry.
đWhen you hang around his office, he likes it when you put on a true crime podcast for Mundies. He had somehow crammed a couch into his office for you to lounge on as you both listened to how fucking crazy those Mundies could be, especially from the state of Florida. Some of the stories you both listened to were so outrageous, that Bigby stopped what he was doing and completely forgot about it because he couldn't believe what he heard as you cackled at his expression.
đEver since you two started dating, Bigby finally started to use his bed again. His poor chair was left abandoned at night when you both would go to bed unless Colin passed out on it. There were times where you would pop in and see Bigby passed the fuck out on it still. He definitely sleeps like a victorian boy with the plague.
đBigby loves going over to your apartment just to drown in your scent. He often doesn't want to leave your bed at times just so he can bury his head in your neck or in your pillow if you had gotten up. If he could, he would want to spend all day in the sheets just lying with you.
đAnother one of your favorite dates to do if the weather is shitty out is snuggling up together on your couch and watch Mundy cop shows, especially the ones with bad acting and writing. You like to ask him what he would do in the cases shown and Bigby's usual answers have to do with punching the crook or sarcasm.
đIf Bigby wolfmans out, he loves it when you stroke his fur and scratch at the raw skin beneath, especially around his neck. He can't really speak like this but he's sure to groan and growl in pleasure. He loves how your hands roam freely, without a trace of fear, around his hulking body. He loves it when you compare the size of your hand to his clawed one.
đWhen it's a full moon, Bigby gets a little weird. He's not forced to turn thanks to whatever spells the witches on the thirteenth floor put on him, but he does act differently. He needs to be around you, needs to have you in his sights and he needs to smell you or else he feels the beast inside of him go crazy. Don't be surprised if Bigby gets excited that night.
đHe loves it when you look into his eyes when they're all wolfy and yellow. He can see the faint glow reflecting off of your eyes and it makes his chest feel so warm and fuzzy inside.
đIf you're a fable that can change forms, you both often turn behind closed doors and drawn curtains for both fun and comfort. Sometimes keeping the beast pent up for too long can drive Bigby crazy and he knows it's the same for you. There have been times where you both would wrestle for fun.
đThere have been times where Bigby would come home bloodied and bruised. He hates seeing you so worried for him and he hates it even more that you always clean and patch him up. You shouldn't have to do this, you shouldn't have to take care of him like this but you do. Bigby would sit on the toilet seat silently and watched as you worried over him. He hates making you worry.
đBigby sometimes gets into these moods where he feels like you could do so much better than him. He doesn't even tell you at first when you gently ask him if he was alright, but he eventually breaks. He feels like you shouldn't be with a monster like him. You get shit for being with him and he hates that. His thoughts get shut down quickly by you pressing a firm kiss to his cheek and tell him how much you love him and how you'll always love him.
đBigby loves it when you compliment his strength. He never thought about it before until he had to hoist up a truck to help Flycatcher with no problem. Just hearing you compliment his strength made him almost drop the truck on the poor frog prince below. Ever since then, Bigby likes to show off here and there just for you to coo and oogle over him.
đWhen you both sit together on the couch, he loves it when you either sit in his lap or have your legs stretch over his own with his hands stroking them. If you're in his chair, he loves it when you straddle him, pinning him back against his chair with the tv forgotten about behind you.
đPlay with his hair. Play with his hair. Just do it, trust me. He will be putty in your hands if you play with his hair, especially as you're kissing. Scratch your nails gently against his scalp, twist his thick locks between your fingers, tug on it. You won't be sorry.
đBigby loves it when you wear his clothing, especially his button-ups even if they don't close up. It started one fall when the temperature dipped below what was originally forecasted. Bigby saw you shiver once from a gust of wind and off came his coat. And that's when it started. He claims it's another scent thing, but just seeing you wearing his clothes really stirs something inside of him.
đWhen you two kiss, he loves it when your hands paw at his body. He loves it when they travel along his brawny limbs and dance across his broad chest and shoulders and crawling down his trim stomach. It drives him crazy as he snarls into the kiss. Oh, and if you sink your nails into his skin? Nip at his bottom lip? You're tipping him over the edge.
đHe rests so much easier now with you by his side. He's never felt like this before with anyone, his little crush on Snow doesn't even come close to the love this man feels for you. The ring hidden away in his desk was proof of that.
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Neighbors With Benefits: Part 9 (Joel Miller x f!reader)
Pairing: Joel x f!reader
Words: 3500
Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, age gap
You poked at the well done chicken cutlet on your plate as you sat in front of the television with a tray. As much as you thought you were keeping your emotions in check, your mother picked up on your body language from across the room.
âIs something wrong?â She asked out of the blue.
âMe?â Your oblivious father asked with a mouthful of baked potato.
âNo,â she shook her head and your eyebrows raised as she motioned toward you with her fork.
âOh, I'm.. no I'm fine.â You stuttered on your words.
âYou're not. What's the matter?â
âIt's nothing, Mom.â
She squinted her eyes a bit and you knew she didn't believe you, but she backed off and began sawing away at her chicken. As much as you wanted to sit and enjoy some downtime with the two of them, you just couldn't help the feeling that weighted down your core.
I should be making Joel dinner right now.
You were pouting and you knew it. Reeling it in felt impossible. Despite more looks from your mother, she backed off on the questions for the time being and took it upon herself to clear your plate when you finished eating.
âDo you mind taking the trash cans to the curb?â She asked, prompting you to give a nod.
âNo problem.â You wandered through the house and into the garage to retrieve them before clicking the button to open the bay door.
As you dragged the two black pails behind you, your eyes couldn't help but land on the pair of cars in Joel's driveway, one of them being the BMW that was parked beside his truck.
You glanced up at the darkening sky and the thought of her spending the night made you want to cry. Just when you were beginning to feel content, Joelâs wife is back in the picture.
You set the garbage cans down at the top of the driveway and then began walking back for the recycling bin. When you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket you pulled it out.
Joel.
Your heart fluttered and you hurried to answer, keeping your voice quiet despite being alone outside.
âHello.â
âHey,â his voice was low and you could barely make him out.
âHi.â You took a deep breath.
âI'm sorry,â Joel said. âI was looking forward to tonight.â
A shot of relief entered your body but the dread and disappointment still outweighed it. Still, it was something.
âMe too,â you confessed.
After a short pause, Joel continued. âI just wanted to assure you over the phone that I am not with Cecille. We aren't getting back together.â
âOkay.â You breathed again and a little more life entered your body. âI, umâŠâ you didn't know what to say. There was a nagging question that you managed to squeak out. âIs she spending the night with you?â
Fuck. You hated asking. Even more, you didn't want to know the answer.
âWith me?â He spoke a little louder. âNo. I'm trying to get her to go to a hotel.â
âOkay.â
âI'm going to figure this out.â
âIt's fine. We can maybe.. get together and talk about it sometime soon. Tomorrow?â
âI got the recycle,â your dad suddenly called from the garage.
Your eyes widened and you nodded, calling out. âOkay, thanks Dad.â
âLet's go to texts,â Joel suggested.
âOkay. Bye.â You hung up and smiled at your father. âI'll get it, Dad.â You took the bin from his hands despite his mild protest and walked it up to the curb.
âYou sure you're okay, kiddo?â He called after you.
âYeah I'm fine.â You rejoined him in the driveway and accepted a hug. âJust a weird, in between time I guess.â
âI get it. Being fresh out of college and back with your folks can be a.. bummer.â The last word made you both chuckle. âOr whatever you kids say.â
âYeah I don't know. Iâll be alright. I have an interview coming up.â
âGreat, close by?â
âNext town over.â You smiled. âI couldn't go very far.â
âWell, good luck. I'm sure you'll do great.â He patted you on the back now and trailed in you through the garage and back inside. âYou've got your whole life ahead of you. Save some money living with your mother, and I and then don't go too far once you're a big time detective.â
You laughed and nodded. âDeal.â At the same time your phone went off again.
Can you meet me at the parking lot at Wolfâs Ledge State Park?
It was instant butterflies and an instant âYes!â on the text message back. You picked up your step once back inside and retrieved your keys and bag with your wallet in it.
âAre you going somewhere?â Your mother asked while your father retrieved a beer from the refrigerator.
âYeah.â You gave a nod.
âWhere to?â
âHiking.â
â(Y/N), it's going to be dark soon.â Her eyes read the ticking clock.
âI'm fine,â you assured her, âGoing with a small group and I have my pepper spray.â
You weren't fooling your mother, and you knew it.
âDo you have some secret romance going on that we don't know about?â She was half-kidding, but you nearly shuddered.
âI'm going hiking, Mom.â You gave a little grin and practically skipped toward the door.
âLet her be,â your father urged, prompting a look from your mother.
âCheck in, please,â she said adamantly.
âI will.â You gave a nod and then hurried outside to get into your car.
Joel's truck was still parked in the driveway as you pulled out, passing his house in the process. You took a deep breath and cruised your way toward Wolfâs Ledge.
You closed your eyes and sat back in the driverâs seat for a moment, allowing yourself thirty seconds to breathe. As you were mentally ordering yourself to relax again, the opposite happened when Joelâs truck rolled to a halt beside you. A ball cap was pulled down low toward his eyes, topping his shaggy hair and he gave a glance in your direction.
He looks good. You loved how he looked in a baseball hat.
When he opened the door and rounded the truck, your stomach grew tighter and any words you had planned to try putting into coherent sentences had all but abandoned your brain. The feeling deepened when he approached the car. You rolled your window down. Joel placed both of his hands on the top of the door and leaned in through the open window. Without hesitation his lips found yours and everything felt alright.
"I'm sorry about tonight and⊠everything, honey.â His gravelly voice and term of endearment sent the same shivers down your spine as always. The feeling he gave you had not yet subsided. In fact, you felt like it escalated every time you were together.
"It's okay." You barely smiled. It was genuine but troubled. You couldn't help but feel a little elated when Joel kissed you, but the background noise was deafening.
"I, uh, had a million fuckin' things to say," Joel began, "But I can't think of any of 'em now." He glanced over his shoulder around the wooded, gravel lot. "Feel like taking a short drive?"
You were more than eager to go with Joel anywhere he wanted to take you. "Sure." You killed the engine to your car, grabbed your purse and then locked up the vehicle before following Joel to his truck in the next space over.
You hurried toward the passenger side and hoisted yourself up into the truck as he did the same on the opposite side. The truck's interior lingered with Joelâs scent, and it was intoxicating. Everything about him heightened the urges that you already thought about far too often.
Had it been anyone else, you would have asked where you were going. With Joel it didn't matter. He could have hightailed the truck to Mexico and wouldn't have questioned it as long as you were together.
"Don't you want to know where we're going?" he asked as if he could read your thoughts. Joel glanced over once when you didn't respond as he cruised the truck toward the exit of the parking lot.
You shrugged. "Wherever it is, is fine." You turned to him, intrigued now that he had brought it up, "Where are we going?"
"Fishing spot I go to around the corner," Joel informed you without hesitation, "Been going since I was a kid." He turned to you again, "It's quiet."
You nodded in agreement and moved your arm abruptly when Joel hit the button on his side to open your window.
"Sorry," he said simply, though you immediately let your arm dangle partway out, tapping your fingers against the side of the truck as he drove.
"It's fine." You swallowed, thinking for the first time that the air felt thick between you. Your conversations were typically easy and loose. The ride to the fishing spot felt tense and neither of you spoke much. Joel never turned the radio on. You didn't know if it was on purpose or if his thoughts were too loud for him to even think about putting on some music as a distraction.
He stared out the windshield and you stared out the open passenger window. Each of you took turns, like a song in rounds, taking heavy breaths or sighs. You suspected Joel wasn't the best at indulging in his feelings, and neither was you. Both of you would have been comfortable carrying on as you had been - carefree with big smiles for one another and blissfully content in each other's arms. Still, that wouldn't have been possible forever with all of the underlying issues and uncertainties swirling silently around you.
When the truck finally cruised past a sign showing a second entrance to the park, Joel pointed up the way.
"Youâve been coming here since you were little?â You asked him.
âYeah,â he gave a single nod and took the dirt road in.
You let out a deep breath you were unable to hold in and then swallowed hard. When Joel's truck finally rolled to a halt in another dirt lot overlooking a small lake with scattered cottages across the way you weren't sure what to think or feel.
Joel killed the engine and then turned to you immediately, extending an arm partway across the back of your seat and leaning the other against the steering wheel.
"I'm sorry,â he said again.
âYou didn't do anything wrong.â
Joel's eyes squinted and he glanced down and then immediately back up. "I want this. I want you and us. Nothing has changed.. not for me.â
âIt hasn't changed for me either.â You shook your head.
Us... Your heart fluttered from the way he joined the two of you together. .You let out a breath through your nose.
"Your wife," you began.
"Ex..." Joel swallowed hard.
"What does that mean with regard to... us?"
"Well, that all depends."
"On what?"
"On you."
Your eyes widened a bit. "On me?"
Joel scratched his beard and let out a deep breath. "Look, I'm in the process of ending my marriage legally. You're young and free and able to do whatever the hell you want. I should be fuckin' telling you to forget about all this but honestly,â he sighed, "I don't want you to forget about it. I love knowing you want me just as bad as I want you. Since the night I saw you sitting out on that step in your parents' back yard I have been in the best damn fuckin' mood."
You knew your face was filled with shock. Hearing him say those words reassured your contentment in the relationship. A part of you was scared he might have wanted to break things off.
Your heart and your hormones easily drowned out any negativity and you suddenly wore a big smile. A flush of red rushed into your cheeks and you looked down as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Your turn." Joel waited for your to look back up at him, and when your eyes met his you couldn't help yourself. Rather than respond you leaned across the truck to leave a long, needy kiss on his lips.
"I just needed to know that," you told him, separating your lips from his before going back in to kiss him again with more urgency, "I've never felt like this before and I'm not willing to let you go."
"Does it bother you?" Joel asked, pulling you back to him by the back of your head so your lips connected again. You kissed him hard and almost didn't stop.
"I was nervous before I talked to you tonight,â you admitted, âBut I feel better now.â
He cleared his throat and twisted his hat around backwards, looking you directly in the eye as he spoke. Joel looked your up and down a moment, "I'm fuckin' addicted to you honey. I look forward to this in a way that I haven't looked forward to anything in awhile.â He leaned his head all the way back, putting his hands behind his head with a deep sigh. His eyes never left yours.
You swallowed hard. Everything he said aloud were feelings you could openly relate to, and the boyish image of him with the backwards hat that accompanied his otherwise manly features, left you aching to act on all of your hormonal urges.
The two of you just stared at each other for a moment before you finally took control and slid across the into the driver's seat, straddling him there so you were face to face.
Joel's hands immediately dropped to your waist, one snaking up the back of your shirt as your lips connected again. "I fucking love," he kissed your again, "...how you take charge."
"Is this going to work?"you asked quietly as he began to kiss your neck before peeling off your shirt.
"Yes." Joel breathed the word against your lips and kissed you again, peeling down the front of your bra as he did.
You closed your eyes as his mouth latched onto your breast. "Mmm..â you moaned. âOkay."
"If you're okay, I'm okay."
You decided to speak his language and chuckled into his ear, "Fuck yeah I am."
Joel chuckled back and pulled away to look directly at you again. "That's my girl."
His girl. You would never get sick of that phrase.
âI want to be your girl.â
âThat's what you are.â
âMmm..â you gave him a long closed-mouth kiss and pulled back.
Joel reached around your body and turned off the truck. He then glanced around the immediate area out the window, seemingly pleased by the desolate nature of the darkening surroundings and nodded his head toward the lake.
âCome on.â He popped open the door and began to help you off his lap.
You followed his lead, but couldn't help but ask. "Where are we going?"
"If I tell you I'll have to kill you."
"Then I'll die happy." When he turned, you grinned and Joel smiled back as he already began to peel off his shirt as he hopped out of the truck.
You only walked a short distance further before hitting a small clearing by the side of the lake. "This is where I usually come to fish." Joel turned his head and smirked again, "I rarely cross paths with anyone."
"Hmm..." You let a smile spread across your face and then giggled when he tossed his shirt to the ground and began to undo his pants.
"What's, uh... what's the plan?" You asked
"Take off your clothes."
Your eyes scanned the immediate area and you let out a loud, unexpected laugh when Joel pulled you to him, clad in nothing but his boxer-briefs with his pants around his ankles. When he almost fell from the lack of balance he snickered and pulled your face to his so your lips playfully collided.
"No one comes here," he reiterated in a whisper, still grinning before kissing you a little harder.
You couldn't deny him when he kissed you that way, or when he showed his playfully aggressive side. In fact it almost made you worship him further and without another thought you attempted to pull off your bra.
"This is nice," Joel toyed with the strap. Before you could respond he had the back of it unclipped and easily let it slide off your arm.
He scooped you off the ground by the backs of your legs and your arms and legs immediately wrapped around him as you kissed some more.
âFuck, I want you,â you choked out. Your censorship around him diminished the more comfortable you got around him.
"MmmâŠâ Joel moaned into your mouth and allowed you back down onto your feet. He stepped out of his pants, stripped down to nothing and didn't say another word as he towed you with him toward the lake. Without hesitation he sloshed into the body of water and dove under, head first.
You stood grinning on the side, biting down on your bottom lip for several seconds before braving the water as he had upon sliding off your pants.
Joel immediately pulled your body back against his and connected your lips with his again. "I thought you were going to chicken out."
"Sometimes I just need a little push," you told him, reaching down below his waist. "Or a... big push." You smiled when his eyes closed as you touched him.
"Mmm..." He moaned and allowed your to continue.
"What are we going to do when it gets cold outside?" You smiled, continuing to stroke him beneath the water.
Joel kept his eyes closed, subconsciously running his tongue across his bottom lip as he did though gave a coherent response. "My truck has heat honey." He smiled briefly but immediately got back in the moment. âUghhh..â he groaned.
You brought your lips back to his, pleased by his response and only stopped what you werr doing when Joel grabbed your face hard with both hands as he kissed you more aggressively.
"Don't stop," he mumbled into your mouth.
You moaned now, attempting to grab a hold of him again though when he picked you up easily again by the backs of your knees you clung to him in the water.
"Might be hard to fuck like this." Joel choked out the words but easily slipped inside of you with the aid of the water. You moaned simultaneously. "Maybe not."
You wrapped your arms around the back of his shoulders and sighed his name aloud, holding you with ease.
"Ohh... you have no fucking idea," he whispered, digging his fingers into your hips as he moved you up and down on his dick.
You muffled a moan into the nook of his neck and grasped him tighter. "No idea what?"
Joel let out a louder moan this time. "You're fuckin' amazing, honey." His eyes remained closed, "Fuck."
You smiled, but immediately got pulled back into the pleasure of the moment, eagerly giving Joel all the appreciation you could through a series of moans that you found more difficult to contain as you carried on.
The more you were together, the less you care about the consequences. Could you get caught out in public together? Yes. Could there be potential repercussions because of it? Yes. Were there 'safer' places to screw around? Yes. Could his wife find out? Yes. Your parents? Yes.
None of it mattered. It was almost as if the high of the moment would make up for it, even if the worst possible scenario happened to occur. It being Joel's idea to hit his so-called discreet fishing spot made you all the more confident in your security. You developed a trust in Joel and embraced that whole heartedly. Logic had fizzled out and the feeling and emotion had completely taken over.
You were beginning to feel like the initial infatuation had blossomed into something more; something you warned yourself about many times over. You had no feeling close to compare it to, but you couldn't help but acknowledge that had fully and completely fallen for your older, married neighbor. You were in love with Joel Miller.
CLICK HERE FOR PART 10
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#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#joel miller x oc#joel miller the last of us#joel miller gif#joel miller x fem reader#joel miller x f!oc#joel miller x female oc#joel miller tlou#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x original character#joel miller fanart#pedro pascal x fem reader#pedro pascal x f!reader#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal x ofc#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x oc#hotdilfsummerchallenge#hellishjoel#protective joel
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"sleepless nights w the f1 boys"
Charles Leclerc
his fingertips, rough and dry, are warm as they sketch circles into the back of your hands. you're uncertain of whether he's even aware of it â gaze lingers on your lover, distracted by his gentle charting of constellations in the midnight sky. his voice, a steady murmur, narrates the story of cygnus' lost love and delphinus' persuasion. the chilled air is held at bay as you remain nestled at his side. soon the night softens, inky blue yielding to pinks and oranges as you trade dreams and stories, your heart filling as fatigue settles into your bones.
Carlos Sainz
late-night drives through deserted city streets unfold like a poetic journey. the hum of the engine blends seamlessly with the laughter that fills the car. childhood stories are shared, echoing through the serene space beyond. with each turn, memories are etched into the fabric of the night, becoming invisible threads that linger in the quiet hours that follow. carlosâ handprint on your upper thigh tingles long after parking, sending sparks up your spine as you two head back up to your shared bed.
Danny Ricciardo
the moonlight casts a soft, clandestine glow, accentuated by the fairy light someone had left hanging. rusty bulbs flicker as danny pulls you up by the hands, the out-of-bounds rooftop transforming into an impromptu private dance floor. below, the city is sleepless and alive with its pulsating energy, serving as your silent witness. the faint notes of your paramourâs cologne, a blend of skin and soap, envelops your waltz as you rest your heavy head against his chest. he hums an all-too-familiar melody and in this suspended moment, time seemed to stretch.
George Russell
on cozy nights in, you both find yourselves entwined in a nest of blankets, a sanctuary of warmth. the orange glow from your nightstand delicately paints the walls, creating a cocoon that shields you from the chill outside. amidst the quietude, secrets and dreams are exchanged like cherished treasures. a small flame is kindled in the tranquil space you've carved out for each other â a haven where the moments hover, suspended in the the warmth of your shared breaths, as sleepless nights turn into timeless memories.
Lando Norris
in the realm of virtual gaming marathons, the hours extend into early mornings, a landscape illuminated by the lights of your screen. shouts of triumph and screams of anguish punctuate the air, interweaving with playful banter that colours the room. oceans away from the love of your life, his laughter still resonates through your headphones as he achieves a triple-kill. you cherish every digital heart he sends through your private chat, a reminder of the connection you share despite the physical distance.
Lewis Hamilton
in the tranquillity of midnight, a serene park becomes your canvas for shared introspection. the world transforms into a tapestry of silver and shadows as you two embark on a quiet stroll, hands entwined. conversations unfurl like the delicate petals of snow-white lilies, their fragility mirrored in the hushed murmurs. the night air carries whispers of dreams and aspirations that mingle with the rustle of leaves underfoot. in the hallowed stillness, your footsteps fall into cadence on the gravel path, heartbeats synchronizing like a ballet telling the story of forging connections.
Max Verstappen
beneath the vast expanse of twinkling stars, you both pitch your tents on damp grass. the crackle of a campfire and the rustle of pine trees create the soundtrack to this new chapter in your relationship. flickering flames cast dancing shadows on maxâs face as he concentrates on roasting marshmallows. the stars above interrupt every shared gaze and every brush of your hands. the magic sparkling in the inches between your frames settles deep into your bones, destined to be a memory never forgotten.
#f1 imagine#f1 headcanons#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz x reader#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo x reader#george russell fluff#george russell x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x reader#formula one fluff#formula one x reader#my writing#itsvelyria
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All I Really Want Is You
older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap one/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday
Welcome To The Neighborhood
â> chapter two
summary: Thereâs a Bandit on the loose.
wc: 3.6k
warnings: 18+ series for eventual smut, 12 year age gap, reader is 30 and Steve is 42 otherwise none for this first installment :) itâs a meet cute baby.
authorâs note: Here it is! chapter one of this little slow burn series with your painfully hot and confusing older!neighbor!widower!steve. This story will take place over the course of one summer, told in mostly blurbs of your chance encounters and run inâs with Steve. This series will have lots of pining, flirting, mild angst and eventual smut. Most chapters will range from 1-2k each except for a few. I hope you guys like reading about these two as much as I liked writing it & I hope to see you back next Wednesday! đ„čâ„ïž
Series Masterlist // Playlist // The tune:
End of May â
Highways and state lines blur together like the buzzing of cicadas into busy Chicago streets. A fresh start. A new life. No plan - that was the promise you made to yourself ten years ago almost down to the date.
The excitement outweighs the embarrassment of how long it takes you to parallel park the Uhaul when you find that one in a million spot in front of your new home. Your hands are numb from the constant battle between the wind and your steering wheel. The breeze from the lake testing your strength for the last hour of your drive. The machine creaks loudly when you slam it into park, your legs wobbling like jello when your converse hit the pavement and out of your truck.
The city hits your ears like the humidity on your skin. The exposed parts of your thighs stick together when the thick air wraps around you like an unwanted blanket. Taking a deep breath, exhaust stings your lungs. Far away from the only place youâd ever known, itâs comforting the feeling that washes over you. You didnât come here with an agenda. A fresh start with nothing to lose. You came here just to be you.
It seems like everyone is on their way to do something, going somewhere they have to be. They brush past you without even a glance in your direction, air pods buried deep in their ears caught up in their own little world. The sounds of dogs barking mingle with cars honking and loud conversations from patio bars the next block over. The city is alive with summer hanging fresh in the air.
The trees that line both sides of your street are lush and green from the moisture. They drape over phone lines, weeping under the heat of the sun. Bumper to bumper cars from all kinds of walks of life make the one way street even smaller. Mini gardens in front of mismatched houses only inches apart. This was your new home.
The three story townhouse is covered in dark green wooden paneling, the floors split up into separate apartments, and you managed to bag the top floor with protruding bay windows. Dumb luck mixed with being on craigslist minutes after they posted, you found the one mom and pop place in the city that fit your budget.
The chipped black metal gate that blocks off the front steps lands at your waist, and runs as a property line against an even nicer house next to yours. One that looks like it belongs to someone, not rented out to a bunch of someones. The bright red brick looks new, and the dark wood steps and patio freshly stained. An oriental rug that matches the house has chew toys with missing limbs littering the front entrance. A porch swing faces you and it sways gently with the wind. Your eyes catch the silhouette of someone on the other side of the stained glass in the middle of the thick mahogany door, and it reminds you to stop being so nosy.
Keys dangling in your hand, you take your first steps through the gate. The metal groans loudly before slamming closed behind you. You jog up the less polished, salt worn steps to your front door and the faint sound of a deep voice catches your ears from next door as you jiggle the lock open. Crossing through the threshold of the entryway youâre not surprised when thereâs no reprieve to the heat, but disappointed just the same as you pull at our tank top that starts clinging to your skin. You eye the narrow staircase that curves up leading to your apartment, immediately regretting doing this alone.Â
It takes you less time to unload than it did to load up, at least that's what you tell yourself as you round to the back of the open trailer. Sweat is slick against your skin and you thank yourself for keeping the previous owner's couch even if you thought it was an ugly shade of green.You stare pointedly at the four heaviest boxes left and you swear they mock you while you try to catch your breath from pushing your mattress to your room. The words âwinter clothesâ scribbled sloppily in bright red marker make your face twist up.
âGod dammit,âyou breathe out running the back of your hand across your forehead trying to rally. Your A/C was already in the window and the cool air inside becomes your motivation.
You arenât expecting the abrupt shove forward or the feeling of paws on your butt, sharp nails digging into the soft material of your shorts. Then you hear it, his voice.
âBandit! Bandit - no! Down!â
Your hands hit the metal of the trailer stopping your fall under the weight of what youâre now realizing is an over excited fully grown German Shepherd. Pink tongue out with spit flying everywhere, you canât help the laugh that bubbles out of you when you turn around and he starts sniffing all over with a tail that wags a mile a minute. High pitched whines leave him when he realizes how much he wants you to play, but he accepts the scratches you offer behind his ears just the same. Body wiggling while also trying to stay still.
âHi buddy!â you coo, your voice instantly slipping into the embarrassing one you only use for animals.
Thatâs when you see him.Â
He has a few years on you, that part is obvious with the pepper that spots the sides of his honey colored hair and the scruff that lines his sharp jaw, but it only makes him look better. His broad shoulders are wrapped up tight in a white undershirt, the thick cotton telling you it was the kind that cost more than your phone bill. The black shorts he wears have a hem high enough to almost be inappropriate when you swear you see the outline of whatâs underneath. The Nike swoosh near the slit at the top of his hairy thighs. His shoes match the color of his shorts, the On Cloud symbol etched on the side flashes in the light. Two hundred dollars on just his feet.Â
The trained muscles in his arm flex when he runs a hand through his hair, catching the stray that flops over his forehead when he comes to a halt in front of you. The bright red leash clutched in his fist matches the color of his cheeks. Big hazel eyes meet yours after lingering on your curves a little too long, making you realize youâre showing off just as much skin as him. Clearing your throat, you tug at the bottom of your yoga shorts, willing them to grow just an inch longer with cheeks burning and not because of the sun.
âSorry, I have a bad habit of getting him excited before I leash him up. I swear heâs friendly, are you okay? He didnât scratch you or anything right?âÂ
Youâre too distracted by his hands to comprehend his words, tendons moving under taut skin as he hooks Banditâs hardness. The heat, the move, and the man all getting the best of you.
âHey -â
His voice brings you back to reality, his brows furrowing over perfect features when he looks at you with genuine concern.
âYes! Sorry, Iâm fine. Honestly! I love dogs. The move in the heat, I think, I think itâs just getting to me.â You smile doing your best to calm the worried look on his face, and you swear you see him flush deeper because of it.
Itâs his turn to clear his throat, left hand flexing like heâs looking for a ring that isnât there. The skin is a lighter shade than the rest of him like there used to be. Thereâs a beat and an awkward silence before he finally notices the mostly empty trailer behind you.Â
âLooks like youâre almost done though, top floor?â He questions rocking on his heels a little, pointing over his shoulder to your window. Your A/C is already dripping water onto the pavement.
âYeah! You live in the building?â Â Please say yes.
âMe? No.â He coughs a little uncomfortable, while you fight to stop the disappointment from showing on your face. âI umm, I actually live next door.â He winces, almost like heâs embarrassed.
âAnyway, sorry about Bandit. Your boyfriend is probably wondering where youâre at.â You donât miss the way he assumes with a secret hope heâs wrong hidden behind the mossy greens of his eyes.Â
âProbably,â you pause, ego boosting when you see him squirm, âIf I had one.â You giggle and you hate the way your hips twist a little.Â
Thatâs when he does it, he smiles, with all of his teeth. Itâs just as blinding as it is contagious, and it makes your skin tingle, giddiness dripping from your limbs. Itâs short lived though, like pieces of a puzzle clicking together you watch it disappear. Itâs replaced by the same concern from before only with a new layer of disbelief.
âWait, honey, whoâs helping you move in then?â He looks at you stunned like he canât fathom the answer he knows you're gonna give.
âThe same person that drove here - me.â You grin a little proud with your chin pushed up and it makes his lips twitch, the same smile from before itching to come back.
âLet me at least help with these last few.â He peeks behind you, eyes scanning over your messy writing, âThey look like they might be heavy.âÂ
He teases you just enough to earn a roll of your eyes, but the grin on your face makes him huff out a relieved laugh. Nerves like a first date twist in his gut when he sees the way you look at him from under your lashes.
âI mean, if you insistâŠ?â you trail off, fishing for his name.Â
âSteve, sorry! It's Steve, Steve Harrington.â He runs one of his big hands through his hair again, a nervous tell of his you pick up on instantly, before offering it out for you to take.
âI donât think I caught that, can you repeat your name one more time for me?â Biting your lip into a smile, he narrows his eyes playfully, cheeks blooming, flustered from your words.
Sliding your hand into his, it disappears completely when he wraps his fingers around yours. The softness of his palm is warm like the sun that beat down on you all day and it sends electric currents running through your veins, heart thumping loudly in your chest and you wonder if he can hear the way he can hear it. Minutes pass before either of you make the first move to let go, or at least thatâs what it feels like. Itâs not until Bandit whines at your feet that Steve finally caves.
âLet me go put him back inside real quick, itâs still a little too hot out anyway and Iâll help you bring the last of this up, tough girl.â He winks with the kind of casualness that makes you question whether you saw it at all and you have to hold in the sigh that begs to slip past your lips.
âIâll be waiting,â your voice cracks, your confidence slowly disappearing like the sun behind the hazed skyline.Â
You try to cover it up by swooping down to give Bandit a kiss between the eyes. Only it backfires, making it worse when you realize how weirdly personal that was to do to someone elseâs dog, despite the more than pleased wag of his tail.
âThat - that was, oh god. I donât know why I kissed your dog like I knew him. Or you. Iâm - Iâm sorry.â You pinch the bridge of your nose, embarrassment rolling off of you in waves.
Itâs not until you hear his laugh, and god is it pretty too, that you finally look up.
âItâs understandable, heâs a handsome guy.â Steve smirks with flirty eyes and it makes you dizzy.Â
You canât stop your giggle, the back of your hand doing little to hide your smile from him. Butterflies breaking from cocoons in your stomach as you watch him walk away to that big house right next to yours.
âWhat exactly do you have in these boxes?â Steve grunts as he follows you up the narrow staircase with two in tow despite your multiple warnings.Â
âWinter coats, sweaters, maybe some boots...â you trail off trying to think, your disorganization more than evident when you open up your front door to even more boxes and bags spread out in disarray.
âYou packed your coats and your boots in the same box?â His voice is muffled behind cardboard as the cool air hits, sending goosebumps across sweat-kissed skin. The low hum does something to dull your nerves when you work up the courage to turn around and finally face him.Â
âMaybe! Who knows, Iâll find out tonight when I open it.â Â
He huffs out a breathy laugh as his broad shoulders almost brush the sides of your door frame. Stepping one expensive sneaker in front of the other into your more than humble apartment, thereâs a fleeting moment of regret about taking him up on his offer when your eyes dart around the mess.Â
âWhere am I puttinâ this boss?â His eyes meet yours from around the side of the boxes, playfulness filling the greens and browns like before.
The muscles in his arm flex when he re-establishes his hold on the box, the sleeves of his shirt getting tighter and the whites of his knuckles start to show. The simple brown leather band of his watch strains, and it makes your throat dry up.
âUmmm.â You shake your head, willing your brain to regain its normal function as you start a clumsy walk towards the direction of your bedroom. âWe can put them in my -â
Your shoe hits something hard and you donât have enough time to realize whatâs happening until you're already on the ground. Palms flat against the scratched wooden floor and a sharp pain in your ankle. The culprit, an already half opened box labeled KITCHEN you mustâve left in the hallway when you got distracted by something else.
âJesus, are you okay?â Steve sets the boxes down, pushing them against the wall and out of the way raking his hand through his hair again, it must be a stressed habit too.Â
âYeah, yeah, my ego is a little bruised but I think Iâm gonna survive.â You try to smile, but only end up wincing when you go to push yourself up.
âHere, let's get you on the couch, let me take a look.â He doesnât wait for your reply, both of his hands coming out to you in an offering. Stubbornness losing for once, you take them. Â
He lifts you up like youâre weightless, moving you around with ease as he tucks you into his side. His fingers wrap around the curve of your hip to steady you. Heâs warm, the pine of his body wash mixing with the spice of his cologne and it surrounds you in a strong hold. It's a short trip to your couch, his abs moving with each step, and you secretly wish it took just a little longer.Â
Heâs gentle when he untangles himself from you. Soft palms on your elbows to hold your balance as you sit down. Thereâs a hint of his aftershave that hits your nose as your muscles melt into the softness of the cushions, the day quickly catching up to you. Eyelids going droopy.
âSitting was a mistake Steve,â you groan with a light stretch of your limbs, and another subtle wince.
âWell good thing you conned me into helping you with the last of your boxes then.â He waits a second before meeting your eyes as he pulls one of your many boxes over to sit on, his lips twisting up when he sees the way you scoff.Â
âConned you?! You practically begged me to let you help.â Your head bobs with attitude dripping from each word and it makes him grin. He nods furrowing his brows like heâs hearing you, but despite the limited time youâve spent with him you knew whatever he was about to say was just going to egg you on more.
âI mean, if thatâs what you need to tell yourself sweetheart. I remember it a little differently.â He canât hold in his laugh when you roll your eyes hard at him trying to ignore the newest nickname.
His knees brush against yours when he finally takes his seat, the hem of his shorts rising higher, running tight against the muscle of his thigh. The cinnamon hair that covers his legs tickles you while the sun hits your bay window with just the right light to reveal an expanse of freckles and moles you didnât see before under his five oâclock shadow and across the bridge of his nose. God, heâs handsome.Â
His eyes catch yours like he can hear your thoughts, and for a moment you wonder if he actually can.
âDo you mind?â The teasing edge is gone, his eyes a little more soft when the tips of his fingers tap against your leg.
Your voice is lost in the shift in energy, static filling in the air between you when you shake your head ânoâ.ââ His touch is feather light when his fingers wrap gingerly around your ankle bringing your foot to his lap. He makes quick work of your laces, using extra care when he pulls off your shoe. The pad of his thumb rubs over the bruising bone and you notice the way he licks his lips.
âDoes this hurt?â He applies a little bit of pressure to the spot just below your calf, his gaze making you nervous as he gauges your reactions.
âNo,â it comes out a little breathless and he exhales deep through his nose because of it.
âHow about here?â He does the same thing as before, only this time closer to your heel and you wince. âThere it is,â he hums to himself, rubbing soothing circles as an apology.
âLike on a pain scale of one to ten, Iâd give it a three and a half or fourâ you tell him, when really youâre too proud to admit itâs actually a five.
âThree and a half? You canât use that. Solid number only,â he scoffs meeting your eyes from under his lashes, the forest inside them turning black.
âI actually think I can do whatever I want,â you laugh incredulously, your toes wiggling under black socks in his lap.
âI guess it is your house, I stand corrected.â Steve admits defeat with an exaggerated sigh before showing you his teeth in a wide grin, his thumb still rubbing circles because it never actually stopped. âDo you have an ice pack?âÂ
Your finger drums against your bottom lip as you think about everything you had packed, his eyes fixated on the way you lightly pull it down with each tap.
âI donât remember and if Iâm being completely honest I donât think so.â You look sheepish when you admit your lack of first aid supplies to him.
He chuckles lightly, hot breath fanning against your skin with a shake of his head.
âI think I have one, Iâll grab it and bring those other two boxes up. Keep your foot elevated for me tonight tough girl. Unpack your chaos tomorrow.â He mocks the way your jaw drops at his teasing.
âIf I didnât know any better, Iâd think you were tryinâ to take care of me Steve.â The joke is innocent, at least thatâs what you thought.Â
Something clicks behind his eyes, the warmth draining from his smile when it falls. His brows furrow and he wonât look at you anymore, his thumb stops rubbing those circles, and your foot is placed gently back on the ground. Heâs standing up faster than you can catch your breath, faster than you can comprehend. The energy shifts to something distant and the warm summer is replaced with frigid winter. He clears his throat with glassy eyes scratching the back of his neck, and you have no idea what you did.
âHey Iâm sorry if I -â
He cuts you off before you can finish.
âYou didnât do anything, Itâs me - look, Iâm just gonna go get those things. Iâll leave it at your door, please just elevate your foot. You should be okay by tomorrow.â He doesnât let you respond, long legs taking him out of your place and leaving you to wonder what you did wrong.Â
Your head lulls against the back of the couch, staring fixated on the old popcorn ceiling of your living room for what feels like twenty minutes as you replay everything back. Over analyzing his tones and body language coming up empty every time. This was going to drive you crazy.
Thereâs three raps on your front door, one coming down hard followed by two quick knocks. When you stand up this time, it hurts less, more true to the pain level you gave him as you slightly hobble to answer.
When you open it, your two boxes are stacked where he promised. A dark blue ice pack with a yellow sticky note that says:
betaâd by @superblysubpar đ (also made the cute post it for me đ„č)
dividers by @newlips đ
chapter two
#my wrtitng#all i really want is you series#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington slow burn#steve harrington fanfiction#older!steve#steve harrington x y/n
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