#I’m gonna miss those idiots so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckys-wintersoldier · 1 month ago

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A love least expected | B.B

Bucky thought he found the love of his life in Steve, but little did he know that Steve going back in time would give him the opportunity to fall in love with someone who really loves Bucky.

Pairing: BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Fem!Reader, past Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Boyfriend!Steve Rogers

Wordcount: 6.184 Words

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, Bucky being insecure, Steve being mean, taking less care of themselves (Bucky), best friends to lovers, bit of idiots in love/mutual pinning, reader reads letter Bucky wrote to Steve (he doesn’t mind), more fluff, so much fluff, love confession

Authors Note: Thank you to my loveliest best friend @thevillainswhore for helping me find the pictures, a title and for always listening to all the ideas I throw at you hehe. I love you so much!❤️❤️ Dividers made by me.

Events: Trick or treat | Bucky Barnes, trick and treat, soulmates, best friends to lovers | hosted by me | Stevie BB 200 Follower Writing Challenge | Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, soulmate AU/ bit of idiots in love/mutual pinning, “Are you fucking kidding me?” | @steviebbboi | Writing Challenge | Soulmates AU, 🥐 ༄ؘ “ I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.” | @elixirfromthestars

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The cold wind was blowing harshly, cutting into his skin. But the coldness outside was nothing compared to the one he felt inside him. His lips turned into a thin line, and the usual light blue eyes are now filled with pain and sorrow. His heart was broken, shattered in the tiniest pieces, and not even a sorry couldn’t fix what broke just a few minutes earlier.

The brown-haired man watched his boyfriend — ex-boyfriend — walking closer to the others. Time tracking, Bucky knew when he just heard that Steve would bring back the stones that he wouldn’t come back as the man he used to be.

The hug was too long, the gazes too intense, too hurtful. And Bucky knew it’s the last time he would hold his boyfriend — the next time he will hold him, it will only be his best friend. He couldn’t blame Steve; he didn’t want to. His heart was broken, but his feelings were still as strong as they used to be — as they always were, in the forties already.

While Bucky couldn’t imagine moving on without the man he thought would be the love of his life, he watched Steve move on without him. All the years, all what they went through meant not enough for Steve to be happy with him.

And once again, his mind ran wild. Was it Bucky who gave Steve a reason to move on? Maybe it was the winter soldier that made him less lovely for Steve. Maybe it was everything he did all those years. But why… why was Steve looking for him? He went to war for him and would even have walked to Austria for him. And now there was a man walking to the others; he did look like his Stevie, but he was so different.

Bucky wanted to call the other man’s name; he wanted to run after him and hold him. A few silent tears were rolling down his cheeks, his body shaking slightly, and he tried to hold back his sobs. With every step Steve was taking away from him, he felt his heart ripped out of his chest. There was nothing left.

The words Steve said earlier were still echoing through Bucky’s mind. ‘Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back.’ Until he gets back, but the way Bucky’s stomach dropped when he looked into the usual lovely blue eyes of his boyfriend, he could tell that things would be different when Steve would be back.

‘I’m gonna miss you, buddy.’ Bucky had to reply. He knew when Steve was lying, when Steve had something planned without saying it out loud. And this was one of these moments, where the slightly sad expression on the other man’s face gave away the truth. His lips curled up so softly that Bucky would have missed it; wouldn’t he have to find a little bit of hope for them in his boyfriend’s expression.

‘It’s gonna be okay, Buck.’ It was then and there the moment Bucky was sure that Steve wasn’t going to come back as the man he was going to leave. The man Bucky used to love will be back in the forties, being lost somewhere there; maybe he found true love while Bucky was in the war. Or maybe… maybe he would just go back to Buck and give them both a life they deserved without the pain the army and hydra caused.

But deep down Bucky knew the truth; he felt that Steve would change. Just the hope and the love made him believe that his boyfriend could come back to him and could be with him.

The further Steve walked away, the colder it got inside and around Bucky. He was shivering. The strong arms of the other man were still around him, at least the feeling of them. But with every inch of distance between both of the men, Bucky felt the warmth of the touch disappear, and he regretted even letting go of his boyfriend. But he had to; he had to let him go so at least Steve could be happy and live the life he wanted while he left Bucky with no more faith in love.

You were standing a bit away from them, watching your best friend literally break while he watched Steve. Your heart was aching, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and give him the comfort he needed, but you also didn’t want to embarrass him because he was crying and shaking from the pain he felt.

So, you decided to walk over to him and try to give him as much comfort as possible without jumping around his neck with a blanket to wrap him in it and keep him protected and warm.

“Hey, Buck,” you greeted him with a soft smile. His eyes were stuck on the other man, watching every muscle moving and the way his hips swung. You followed his eyes, your smile turning sad, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart shattering.

It’s not that you were in love with Steve; of course he was a good friend. But you know for Bucky he meant the world, that Bucky thought he found the love of and for his life in Steve. Still, he has to watch the person he used to love more than everything, leaving for a life Bucky couldn’t give to him.

You noticed the tears rolling down Bucky’s cheeks; his breath got heavier, and you could almost feel the way your best friend broke from the inside. The deep blue eyes were suddenly so empty; the smile that was always across his face was replaced by a thin line of his lips. The sweet scrunch of his nose that always got everyone’s attention was now replaced by the tears that were quietly falling down his cheeks.

“W-why…?” Bucky asked, his voice only a hoarse whimper. The self-doubts were crashing down on him like the heaviest building ever. Maybe he wasn’t enough; of course he wasn’t. Would he be ever enough for Steve, then he wouldn’t have decided to travel back to have a life with a woman — without Bucky. “Why doesn’t he love me?”

You swallowed thickly; there was no simple answer for that. You didn’t even know if Steve loved Bucky or not. With a soft sigh, you looked at Steve, then at Bucky, and took another step closer to him. “Sometimes… Sometimes love isn’t enough for someone to stay. But that’s not your fault; some people just can’t… they can’t appreciate what they get from another person. They think they can ‘do better’ even though they have everything they need. Sometimes it takes distance for one to notice that he was in the wrong.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up slightly. His eyes still on Steve as he placed the helmet on his head and stepped into the machine for time travel. “So, maybe he will come back to me… to us… to that here as the one he is now?”

The hope in Bucky's voice caused a cold shiver running down your spine. You really hoped for him that Steve would come back as the one he was. That he only needed to see that he loved Bucky and that he found everything in the man he could possibly find in someone.

But deep down, you actually knew that it’s not true. Steve wouldn’t be the one he used to be. But you weren’t sure; you didn’t want to break Bucky’s heart further, but lying and letting him think that Steve would be his old self? You don’t want to do it either.

“I-I don’t know,” you mumbled and watched Steve. He disappeared. Next to you, you noticed something — or someone — was falling down to the ground. Your eyes widened, and your heart shattered as the scream left his parted lips.

Bucky kneeled next to you on the dirty, cold floor, his eyes red and watery while he pants. It was his scream; it was his pain. He had to let go the moment the love of his life disappeared to live another life. He stared down; his hands were grasping the dirt under his fingers, and tears were falling down his cheeks.

“No…no…no…no,” he panted, repeating the words over and over again. His breath was heavy, and his eyes were unfocused. And then he started to shake his head; his eyes were wandering from the ground up to where Steve was standing and back to the ground. “Please… come back. St-Steve, please.”

You watched Bucky for a moment, considering whether to kneel down or give him a moment for himself. Your eyes were wandering over his shaking form, and when he started to repeat Steve’s name and begged him to come back, you got down on your knees as well.

“Bucky? I know it hurts, but Steve isn’t coming back,” you mumbled. You’re not sure what to say, but trying to hide the truth wouldn’t help Bucky either. “Can you look at me?”

Bucky swallowed, turning his face toward you. His eyes were red and puffy, his lips formed into a pout, and he stared at you with the most hurt expression you have ever seen on his face. He nodded, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be fine,” you said in a soft voice. You brought your hand to his soft, brown locks. Bucky relaxed slightly, the pain still visible, but at least he had someone who was there for him. You curled his hair around your fingers, stroking his neck softly. “Everything is going to be fine; you’re not alone. I know it feels like that; it feels like Steve took everything with him, but he didn’t. We’re still here for you, and you’re loved.”

Bucky nodded, leaning his head against your shoulder. His arms automatically wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer toward him. The brown-haired man’s fingers were digging into your skin, holding onto you to make sure you’re staying as close as possible to him.

“You stay?”

“I will stay. You’re my best friend; I love you, and I will give you all the hugs and cuddles you need, Buck.”

The days and the weeks felt so much longer and so empty without Steve. Bucky didn’t sleep much at all; he refused to eat and cared about anything but his letters. Since Steve left, he wrote a letter every day, putting all his feelings, all his pain, and all his love into them. Even though he refused to go out, he didn’t mind when you came over and gave him some company.

You sighed when you opened the door to Bucky’s apartment. The air was thick and stinging; you closed the door and walked further into the apartment. You got used to Bucky’s behavior, his less care for everything, but you wished you could help him.

“Buck? I brought some food,” you said as you looked through the door of his living room. His eyes were shooting up at you. He nodded with a slightly sad smile and held out his hands, curious what you got for him. “How are you feeling today?”

He shrugged, taking the bag and looking into it. “‘M not sure. Empty… cold?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, but he smiled softly when he noticed something you got for him. He took it and held it out of the bag, showing it to you. “I love these, my favorite chocolate.”

You watched him for a while before you walked through the room to open the windows and let some fresh air in. Even though Bucky tried to convince you to not clean, you always did it when you were there. Most of the time he even helped you, finding it easier to clean when he didn’t have to do it all by himself.

“When did you shower last time?” Bucky looked up, his face heating up as he turned his face away again. You sighed, knowing it was at least a week ago that he had a shower. “How about you get one yet?”

Bucky shook his head; fear was visible in his blue orbs. You furrowed, walking closer to him. He didn’t look at you, too ashamed to do so. Bucky’s breath hitched as you kneeled down in front of him and rested your arms on his thick thighs.

“Why not?” Your voice was sweet as honey. You knew it was the best way to talk to Bucky without making him more ashamed or making him feel worse.

“Becuase…” Bucky swallowed thickly. “What if I come back here and you’re gone?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart was beating faster. After Steve left, Bucky got more and more separation anxiety, but you didn’t know it would be that bad. That it would cause him to refuse letting you out of your view when you’re there — which you are around every day or at least every other day.

“I’m not going anywhere else,” you mumbled, drawing small circles on his thick. Bucky nodded, his eyes watering as he looked at you. His big hands moved almost automatically to yours; he placed them on top of yours and held them tight.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Bucky nodded at your assurance. He still refused to let go of your hands and move an inch, but he knew he had to take a shower at least. He didn’t even know why he still felt so low. Steve hurt him; he broke him, but he found something that’s worth living again. But whatever he tried, the thought of losing it made him curl into a little ball and feel the depression coming over him again.

“But… you stay here?” Bucky asked once again. You nodded, smiling at him before getting up to sit down next to him and giving him the room to get up. He sighed, his hands shaking, but he finally moved and got up to walk to the bathroom.

His eyes were darting between you and the bathroom, making sure you were still sitting on the couch. Your heart broke slightly about the insecure and broken man who used to be so happy and proud of himself. Someone who was never insecure about himself.

When he finally got into the shower, you started to clean his apartment. Starting with the trash that was placed all over the floor and surfaces. You then changed the sheets on his bed and opened the windows there as well until you reached the big pile of dirty clothes.

With a chuckle, you picked it up and ordered it to put it into the washing machine. You noticed a bunch of letters between some other stuff on the table; you listened to the sound of the running shower before taking them.

It wasn’t your best move, you know that, but you were curious who he was writing a letter — or a bunch of letters. You opened the first one; the first one made your breath hitch.

For Steve.

Your eyes widened, then they moved to the date on it; it was written one day after Steve left. You couldn’t stop the curiosity from boiling over and made you continue reading what Bucky wrote.

I miss you. I miss you more than I thought one could miss someone else. Are you coming back? Please don’t go away; don’t leave me.

You noticed the few patches of tears in the paper; your heart was clenching while you continued to read further through the letter. Bucky told Steve everything about the day he left — that he broke down, that you comforted him, that he couldn’t sleep, and that everything felt so hard. Bucky’s heart was broken, and he put it down in the form of words; even though Steve isn’t reading it, he could at least get it out of him.

Don’t leave me alone in this new world. It’s more than I can handle; it’s so new, so different from the forties. Please don’t leave me alone in this new and modern world.

Your eyes watered at the desperation Bucky probably feels every day. Even though you knew that things changed since the forties, you hoped that it wouldn’t feel that bad for Bucky. Reading those words made your heart clench in your chest, causing you to shiver.

I love you.

Bucky.

Putting the letter away, you took another one, curious what Bucky wrote later. It wasn’t just a letter from a day later; it was one around a month later. You opened it and stared at the first words Bucky wrote.

Hi Steve,

it still feels different without you. I still feel that something about me is missing. It hurts to think about you, and sometimes I still even hear your voice.

You stared at the words; it was different. Bucky wasn’t as desperate as he was before anymore. It still pained you to know that Bucky was suffering so much because of the man he thought he would love. But on the other side, you knew that Bucky felt better now, at least a bit.

I feel less empty; it’s less cold. But I am still mad at you. I hope you’re being happy, but it makes me insane to know that I couldn’t be the one who makes you happy.

I’m mad that you left me alone in the modern world by myself. That you went back in time, that you looked like you didn’t care about me.

Your eyes were roaming over Bucky’s words. His thoughts were all written down on a piece of paper — his anger, his hurt, but also that he loved Steve. You continued to read this letter before you took another one, the one he wrote last night.

You listened closely, the shower still running, so you inhaled deeply once more and opened that letter as well.

Curiosity was stuck to every fiber in your body; you weren’t sure if you should read it. You shouldn’t have started to read them at all because they were private. But on the other side, it was also important to see how Bucky was doing; those letters said so much more than he did. He didn’t like talking too much about his feelings, especially not about Steve. So you were letting your eyes wander over the words of the letter.

I found that girl; she’s beautiful and sweet. I never thought I could look at someone and feel that way ever again, but she made me see the world in a positive way. Her eyes shine like the sun, and her laugh is the most beautiful I have ever heard. She's the light in my nights and the one I can hold onto if I feel like I fall.

Your eyes widened as you read the words Bucky wrote down. There weren’t many people who were around Bucky; it was actually mostly Sam and you. So the only person he could mean was you, and a shiver ran down your spine when your stomach flipped.

Bucky may have fallen in love with you. It was a while back since Steve left him, and you knew about the way Bucky changed that he slowly got over Steve. Even though he was still sad about what Steve did, and even though Bucky didn’t get himself to take care, he also changed slightly into a bit more of a happy self.

I still don’t get my ass up; I don’t find motivation to clean and take care of things or even me. Except she’s around, then she helps me. You know her; she was the only person who helped me get up and who stood by my side when you left me in this modern world to live another life. And she never — not once — left my side since that. She is my strength; she is my everything.

You put the letter back on the table when you heard the door of the bathroom opening. Bucky walked with a towel around his waist into the living room; his expression was soft, and a soft smile played around his lips. You had seen him like that — without a shirt and damp hair — a few times before, but this time it made your knees buckle, and you were glad that you were still sitting on the couch.

Bucky walked closer to you, looking around as he noticed that you really cleaned for him. Then his eyes landed on the letters that were still on the table; one of them was open, and he gasped softly.

“Y-you know you don’t have to clean…” He said, his eyes still focused on the letter. Emotions overcame him: fear, happiness, panic, and love. “Did you read them?”

Bucky smiled softly as he saw your reaction. He knew exactly that you read them, and he even liked it. So he didn’t have to hide his feelings anymore, even though he was unsure what you feel, if you would feel the same or were going to be mad about it.

You nodded, watching him walk closer. Bucky took a short and a pair of boxers from the counter, pulling them on before he focused his attention back on you. His heart was racing, and his breath sped up slightly the longer he waited for an answer from you.

“A-Are you m-mad? I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it,” he breathed out, sitting down next to you on the couch. One of his legs underneath the other while he watched you intensely. “I… we can just ignore it… I-I just… I know you could think I just fell in love because Steve left. But I guess I just needed to realize that Steve and I never worked the way I tried to see.”

Bucky often told you about his relationship with Steve. He loved the other man, but Steve was still stuck in the past. And even though he tried to hide it, Bucky always knew it. The brown-haired man loved Steve a whole lot, but the moment the other was turned into a big, muscular man — Bucky knew that Steve wouldn’t be as much in love with him any longer. He finally got the attention he always hoped to get; he finally didn’t have to feel insecure anymore. As much as Bucky tried, he could never help Steve with his insecurities as much as the serum then did.

“I know,” you mumbled, resting your hand on Bucky's thigh. You smiled softly at him, running your fingers over his knee. “I’ve seen the way you changed after Steve left. I still see it and also how you act around me. And I’m glad I read those letters, and I’m also glad that you fell in love with me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, and he wasn’t sure if he heard right or if that was just the most amazing dream ever. His blue eyes were staring into yours, holding your gaze as he waited for you to laugh and tell him that you just made a joke. But the moment didn’t come; instead, you inch closer to him and had the most adorable smile on your face.

“Do you need me to spell it for you?” You chuckled and brought your hand to his cheek. You brushed your fingers over his soft stubbles. Bucky tilted his head, leaning more into your touch. “I. L. O. V. E. Y. O. U. I’m in love with you too.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes still holding yours as you literally spelled ‘I love you’ for him. He inhaled deeply; it was shaky and slow, but the smile on his face only grew the more the words seeped into his mind.

“You really do? Like, in a way that if I asked you out, you would say yes? Like in a way that if I wanted to kiss you, you would let me?” He asked; he was almost stumbling over his own words. The thoughts were racing in his mind, and he couldn’t help but imagine your soft lips pressing delicately against yours.

“I really do. I would definitely say yes. And would you like to kiss me… if I would let you. How about you try and find out?”

Bucky grinned at you, leaning closer to you. “You know, you're my rock in every hard time. You’re the star that brightens up my day. You’re the sun that warms me. And even though I still have some trouble taking care of things and even myself. Never doubt my love; I may not be good at cleaning and all. But I know that I love you more than everything; you know that, don’t you?”

You chuckled and nodded. “I do know that you do. And I would never doubt your love, my clingy, precious boy,” you smirked at him, causing him to growl in amusement. “I do love you too.”

Without another word, Bucky leaned closer and pressed his lips softly against yours. His hands found their way around your waist, pulling you into his lap while he intertwined his fingers behind your back and held you close. Your hands moved almost automatically to his neck, pulling him closer until his nose brushed over your cheek.

Bucky growled into the kiss; his lips were moving softly and slowly against yours. It felt different, like every kiss or touch the two of you ever felt before — this one wasn’t just a kiss with someone you hoped to be with forever; this was a kiss that meant forever. It was the start of your journey together, the start of the most special thing you could have imagined.

“Buc-“ you interrupted yourself the moment you heard the voice of Steve coming from your shared living room. Bucky and you were happier than ever; you had a lot of dates, and after a while you even moved in with him. He was the sweetest man you have ever met, and he feels the happiness back inside of him. But now you had to listen to your boyfriend talking to his ex-boyfriend, to the man he used to love more than everything.

Your heart was beating faster, and you pressed yourself against the wall behind you, scared of what you were going to hear. Bucky loved you; the two of you had enough time and moments to fall deeply in love with you. But you never thought what would happen the moment Steve would walk back into his life because you never thought Steve would do that.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I don’t know what came over me or what made me do that. I should have never left; I don’t… I just don’t know,” Steve mumbled and ran his fingers through his hair. The hair Bucky used to love running his fingers through and playing with the strands of Steve’s hair.

Bucky shook his head. He inhaled deeply before looking straight into his ex-boyfriend's blue orbs. “I accept your apology.”

Your heart dropped when you heard that; a shaky breath left your lips, and you had to fight the tears that threatened to break free. This couldn’t be possible; Bucky couldn’t leave you, could he? You tried to stay as calm as possible, listening carefully to the conversation before freaking out or breaking down.

“So you come back? You let me come back? I missed you; it was all a big mistake. I never cheated on you; I just needed to see that you’re the one for me, I guess. Bucky, please give us another chance. I will be better this time,” Steve said, his voice pleasing, and you knew without having to look at him how he looked at Bucky. You wouldn’t blame Bucky for going back to Steve, even though it would break your heart. If it was Bucky’s wish to go back to Steve, he would never dare to be between them and stop Bucky from being happy.

“Guess you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor,” Bucky said, his voice calm and shaking. He shook his head as he looked at Steve, who had tears in his eyes. “I wish that you had thought this through before I went and fell in love with you.”

Steve’s jaw dropped as he heard the words leaving his ex-lovers lips. “Buck… you-you can’t be serious. I love you; I always loved you.”

You noticed the shaking in Steve’s voice, and you felt almost pity — wouldn't he have been the reason for Bucky being down and broken after he left. You heard Bucky shuffling; he was probably grasping his hair like he always did and turned around. Bucky inhaled deeply before turning back to Steve. “Did you love me when she was sleeping in the bed we made? Don’t you dare forget about the way you betrayed me. ‘Cause I know that you will never feel sorry for sleeping in the bed with her, for kissing her, for looking at her like you used to look at me,” Bucky breathed out.

“I-I didn’t..” Steve gets interrupted by Bucky shaking his head. He didn’t want to hear more; he didn’t want anyone to destroy his happiness ever again — not even his ex-boyfriend. “Please, Bucky, I need you.”

“I’m sorry,” the brown-haired mumbled. He wasn’t sure to tell Steve about you, to tell him about the love he found and the happiness he feels again. “I can't, and I honestly don't want to. You broke me and.. I—“

“You what?” Steve asked in a dominant and angry tone. His eyes widened when he thought about a possible reason Bucky couldn’t go back to him. “No. Don’t tell me you… Bucky, no.”

You took a few steps back before you walked with a few louder steps to let them know that you approached the room. Steve and Bucky looked at you. Steve’s eyes were widened with shock and disbelief, while Bucky looked at you with a soft smile and brightened eyes at you.

“Babydoll,” Bucky smirked and held his arms open for you to walk closer to him. Your eyes drifted to Steve for a moment before you let Bucky wrap his arms tightly around you. He pressed his lips softly against your forehead, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his waist — which you did. “How was the meeting? Everything fine, or do you need anything?”

You smiled softly against his chest. Bucky was always so sweet and caring when it came to you. He always made sure that you had everything you needed and that you got whatever you wanted or needed. Seeing your smile and the love you gave to him made his heart swell, and he just couldn’t help but feel in love with you every time.

“Everything is fine. Just wanted to get a glass of water and ask if you have any idea for dinner today,” you mumbled before pulling back softly and looking at Steve. His eyes were narrow, and he watched the two of you intensely. Steve swallowed thickly when he saw the way Bucky hugged you, the way he kissed your forehead, and how sweet and loving he was around you. “Hey, Steve.”

He nodded, watching you walk toward the kitchen. His eyes were glued to you. Bucky cleared his throat, getting Steve’s attention. The smile on Bucky’s face turned into a like again when he looked back at Steve, who shook his head slightly.

“Are you fu— kidding me? How much do you pay her that you made me suffer like that? Do you want me to get on my knees to beg you to take me back?” Steve asked, determined to get an answer that would make it possible for Steve to get his ex-boyfriend back.

“I’m not doing it to make you suffer. I love her, and she loves me. When you left, I went home, I sat in the corner of the room, and everything reminded me of you,” Bucky said before taking a deep breath.

He didn’t like to hurt Steve like that; he didn’t want to hurt him, but he wasn’t in love with him anymore. Bucky found you; he found his babydoll, someone who would never leave him — for no one else.

“I thought about what could make you go back in time, and then I noticed. Peggy, the way you looked at her in the bar. She was the first woman who gave you attention. It didn’t matter that I loved you more than everything because you got the attention of a woman — a handsome and nice woman,” the brown-haired man’s eyes roamed over Steve’s face, noting the ways his lips twitched. Bucky knew he was right; he knew that Steve loved the attention he got from Peggy; no woman had ever looked at him like that before.

“That’s not… I mean, yes, but that’s not true. I do like the attention I got from her, but that doesn’t mean that I love you less. I do love you the same.” Steve growled; he was annoyed. Not about Bucky but about himself. Maybe a bit about you too, but the most he was annoyed and mad at himself. “You can’t just date someone else. You still love me, don’t you?”

“No. I saw you disappearing; did you hear my scream? She saw it; she fucking heard it. Did you ever think about me before or while you did it? I wrote a letter for you. Every single day. And the only thing I thought about was you being happier,” Bucky mumbled, staring directly into Steve’s eyes.

The other man swallowed thickly. The hurt in Bucky’s expression when he told him about the day Steve left. Or the love in his expression when he looked at you. Or when he kissed you, Bucky was so soft and lovely that Steve wasn’t sure if it was all a game to make him suffer or if it was true. But with every following word, he knew that Bucky fell in love with you and that he really loved you.

“My friends told me one day I'd feel it too. And I do; I finally do. I feel with her what it is to be loved — to know that she will never leave me like you did. I could have tried to smile and hide the truth when you left. When I thought I was happier with you, she would have seen because she always knows how I feel, how I really feel.”

“Bucky, you can’t be serious; you just can’t.” Steve breathed out, the realization that the brown-haired man is now happier with you hitting him. So he added in a softer and quieter tone. “But yes… you look happier, you do.”

The brown-haired man nodded, smiling softly. He felt sorry for Steve, but it was his decision to leave; it was his decision to go back in time to live another life. Bucky looked over to the kitchen where you’re standing with your glass; you watched them. When your eyes locked, you smiled softly, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel his heart beating even faster for you.

Bucky turned back to Steve before he smiled at him as well — it was less happy and not reaching his eyes but assuring. “I knew one day you’d fall for someone new. But that’s okay, cause I found someone who made me feel loved like you never could make me feel.” Bucky said, his eyes wandering from Steve to you and back to Steve.

The other man huffed; he thought Bucky would wait for him to let him come back so they could be happy together. “I hope she’s making you happy. But if she breaks your heart like lovers do, just know that I’ll be waiting for you.”

Bucky’s body tensed at those words. He knew that Steve was hurt and wanted to hurt him as well, but he also knew that he’s happier with you now. He found the love he never thought existed; you would never leave him, and you love him with every fiber of you. With all the words and gestures, the love and affection you give him, you show him that you mean it, that Bucky means everything to you — just like you mean everything to him.

“She isn’t a lover of mine. She is the other half of me. She’s my babydoll; she would never do anything that hurts me,” Bucky mumbled before leading Steve out of the house. Then he returned to you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you tightly against his broad chest.

“Thank you; without you, I would have never felt that love, and I would never have been able to be strong enough to say no to someone who betrayed me. My babydoll, mine, all mine.” Bucky pressed his lips against your neck, then your cheek, until he pulled you into a soft kiss. A kiss that said more than words could ever express — love and affection for eternity.

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cinnbar-bun · 11 months ago

Text

Kiss the Swordsman (Mihawk x Reader)

Summary: Inspired by "Kiss the Girl" from The Little Mermaid.

Perona is frustrated that Mihawk won't confess his feelings for you, so she hires Zoro to take part in a scheme to get Mihawk to admit his love for you.

Word Count: ~2.9k

Rating: SFW

You can read this on my AO3 here!

Perona glared deeply at you and Mihawk, who were quietly sitting and eating breakfast. You passed him the butter without him asking, and he refilled your cup while you were cutting your food.

Zoro raised a brow as he stopped shoveling his pancakes into his mouth. “Why’re you so angry?”

Perona’s frown grew fiercer as she crossed her arms. “I’m mad Mihawk hasn’t made a move!”

Zoro glanced at Mihawk, who was taking a sip of his coffee.

“I dunno, he looks like he’s moving just fine,” Zoro shrugged. Perona smacked his shoulders.

“Not like that, idiot!” She shouted. Zoro picked his ear and continued to eat.

“Dunno what you mean then.”

“Ugh! You’re so clueless!” Perona pointed at you and Mihawk. “It’s so obvious they like each other!”

Zoro swallowed another pancake whole and shook his head. “I know you didn’t just say that while I’m eating.”

“Well I did!”

“Ugh… whatever,” Zoro sighed. “Besides, what are you talking about? They don’t like each other.”

Perona narrowed her eyes and forced Zoro to look at Mihawk. “You’re blind. Look at how he looks at (Y/n)!”

Mihawk, at the moment, was focused on his breakfast and Zoro grit his teeth.

“He’s not even looking at them…”

“Y-you just missed it!” Perona’s cheeks turned red as she wagged her finger. “Trust me, he stares at them a lot!!”

“So what? Maybe (Y/n)’s just got a stain or something. What do you want me to do about it?” Zoro tiredly responded.

“I’m not asking you to do anything ab-,” her eyes lit up as she gasped loudly, making Zoro jolt. “That’s it! You’re a genius, Zoro!”

“I am…?” He asked, unsure if he was going to like her next few sentences.

“Mhm! You just gave me a new idea! We go make Mihawk confess his love for (Y/n)!”

“But does he even-“ Perona cut Zoro off by placing her index finger to his lips.

“Shhhh… trust me. It’s foolproof.”

---

“So, tell me again how this is supposed to make Mihawk confess?” Zoro asked as he held the shovel in his hand.

“Duh! (Y/n) will just fall into this hole and maybe get injured or something,” Perona proudly smiled as she covered the hole with a net of leaves. “Mihawk will swoop in and realize seeing the love of his life fall into a hole was too much, then he’ll look into (Y/n)’s eyes and be so emotional over their safety and have to confess!”

“I don’t think that’s gonna pull a confession out of him.”

“What do you know, lughead?! Have you ever dated someone before?”

“No,” Zoro scratched his chin. “Neither have you.”

“Well that’s just- um, ah- just hush! Shhh! I hear them coming.”

Perona dragged Zoro behind a tree to peek out and see her victims. Mihawk and you were clad in your usual farming attire, with you carrying a bucket of compost for your garden. Perona rubbed her hands and chuckled, waiting for the glorious moment to come when…

“Oh, wait, Mihawk, there’s something over there,” you pointed out.

“Hm? Ah…” Mihawk hummed in acknowledgment as you both began walking away from the path where the hole was. Perona gawked and gripped the bark of the tree.

“No! Those two-!”

You and Mihawk noticed a small burrow close to the field of root veggies. “A rabbit, I believe,” Mihawk murmurs, crouching down to the small nest. Before he can even take a look, a grown rabbit bolts out of the hole and dashes under Mihawk’s legs.

You jump as the rabbit runs past you, and Mihawk recovers to quickly chase after it. The swordsman is fast and swift, able to keep up with the animal, while you’re struggling to close the gap due to the heavy bucket in your hands.

“And, got you-“ Mihawk leans forward to grab the rabbit, but as he does so, his foot makes contact with the nest of leaves that Perona hid the hole with. “Agh!”

Mihawk lets out a loud yelp as the rabbit slips from his fingers and he plummets to the bottom of the (thankfully) shallow hole.

You drop the bucket and rush over to him, looking down at him inside the hole.

“Mihawk! Are you alright?”

He dusts himself off, examining how his white shirt is now stained with brown mud and crumbled leaves.

“Yes. I’m quite alright,” he answers smoothly, as if he didn’t just fall face first into a hole.

“Do you need a hand?” You ask, extending your hand to him.

“Thank you, (Y/n),” he accepts, pulling himself up with ease. “Are you alright? You’re not injured, are you?”

You shake your head. “No, not at all. I wasn’t the one who fell into a hole, anyways. I’ll go check on you back at the castle.”

“Much appreciated. But first-“ he craned his neck to Perona and Zoro’s hiding spot, causing them to shriek and fully hide themselves behind the trunk. His hawk eyes narrowed at them as he slowly made his way over to them.

It all happened in a blur, as suddenly the two were lifted by their collars as Mihawk made them face the fields.

“Since you two love playing in the dirt so much, I’ll allow you the opportunity to till each and every field today. And while you’re at it, fill that hole again,” he stated coldly, his voice giving no room for argument or interpretation.

Perona and Zoro gulped at the massive garden.

“If you two try this stunt again, I will have you become fertilizer. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Mihawk,” Perona and Zoro nodded and weakly gave in. Given how Mihawk could be, this was perhaps his form of mercy to them. Mihawk dropped them and walked back to you, examining your hands.

“Ah, you have a small mark. Next time, I’ll carry the bucket for you,” Mihawk commented.

“It’s not a problem, Mihawk. I can do it just fine,” you chuckle. “Come on now, let’s go make sure you’re not bleeding.”

“I most certainly would not be injured from that small of a hole.”

---

Perona growled as she crossed off yet another idea from her list.

“Maybe you should give up,” Zoro stated nonchalantly as he was taking a sip of his drink.

“I can’t! I can’t, because if I don’t, Mihawk is never gonna do it and he’ll die alone like a boring old man!” Perona sobbed. “He can’t keep hiding his feelings! I just don’t get why none of these have worked…”

“Gee, I wonder why injuring (Y/n), burning books, breaking glass, and ruining dinner would make Mihawk not confess,” Zoro deadpanned.

“Shut up, smartass! I just… I just know that deep down, (Y/n)’s the best thing in his life, and I’m not letting them walk away thinking he doesn’t care!”

“That’s surprisingly caring of you.”

“I’m gonna get violent!” Perona stomped her foot.

“Just take it easy! You’ve been bombarding them nonstop and making us have to do so many chores. I’m not gonna clean any more dishes because of your matchmaking.”

Perona huffed and nodded. She was exhausted from all the punishments Mihawk gave her after the many stunts she pulled, and manual labor was so not cute. She slid to the floor.

“This is hopeless…” Perona mumbled. Zoro saw how dejected she looked and sighed.

“Look, I’m not a romance expert, but why don’t we try something a bit smaller? Ya know? Something that doesn’t end up with (Y/n) or Mihawk getting something broken?”

“Like what?”

“Well, I dunno, I figured you’d tell me what people to be romantic. Damn, if only I had that cook here…”

“Cook?” Her eyes lit up. “Cook! That’s it! We can make them a candlelit dinner!”

---

Another of Perona’s shenanigans. Mihawk sighs as he opens a letter that tells him to get dressed and be outside in the courtyard.

“Why did she sign it as (Y/n)…” he asks himself, confused why Perona would think he wouldn’t recognize what your handwriting looked like. Regardless, considering she seemingly put so much effort into this, he plays along and does as told, careful to “dress up nicely” as Perona so eloquently wrote. He fixed his hair and made sure to brush his facial hair before heading to the courtyard.

“Now, Perona, I hope you have a good-,” he stops when he sees you’re the person standing, waiting in the courtyard. You look breathtaking, elegantly dressed up in an outfit that fits you perfectly. For a moment, Mihawk forgets what he was doing and trying to say. You chuckle and step closer to him.

“You got her letter, too?” You ask. Mihawk nods.

“I’m not sure what she’s thinking now.”

“Neither do I. But it’s been a while since I wore something like this, it’s a nice change of pace.”

Mihawk stares at you unemotionally, and you’re worried he thinks poorly of what you just said or how you look.

“Yes… it’s a lovely change of pace,” he adds, his face softening. “You look stunning, (Y/n).”

The compliment makes you smile, and he feels his face get warmer at seeing your gorgeous smile his way.

“Come, let’s take a seat, I’m sure Perona has some plans for us,” he offers his hand. You take it and he glides swiftly to the small, white table with a beautiful candelabra in the center. Mihawk pulls out your chair and helps you sit, like a true gentleman.

“I’m honestly surprised she’d done all of this,” you comment. “I wonder why.”

“I could hazard a guess,” Mihawk replied, before Zoro arrived in a tux.

“Evening, you two,” he states, holding a notepad. “The uh-“ he flips through the notepad and you and Mihawk see an obvious script that Perona wrote for him. You hold in your laughter while Mihawk looks unamused. “Y-yeah, sorry, the dining room proudly presents… your dinner!”

Zoro turns around and makes a motion to grab something, only to grab air. “Wait, where’s the food?”

Mihawk pours you a drink as Zoro fumbles with the notepad and flounders to find the cart full of food.

“It seems there’s been a technical difficulty,” Mihawk mumbles.

“Oh, be easy on them,” you tease.

Perona stomps to where Zoro is and smacks his head with the notepad.

“I told you to put the cart there!” She hisses, you and Mihawk are able to hear her perfectly. “Now they’re going to have their dinner ruined!”

“Hey! I’m sorry! I thought it was here!” Zoro whisper-yells back. He thankfully finds the food cart this time and pushes it towards the table. He then places a silver dish in front of each of you and removes the lid. “There we go! Dinner!”

“Appetizer,” Perona corrects.

“Appetizer,” Zoro amends.

“Thank you. May we have some privacy?”

“Ohhhhh, of couuuurse!” Perona nods, too obvious in her scheming. She grabs Zoro as the two of them hide in a nearby bush.

“They do realize we know where they went, right?” Mihawk whispers to you so they can’t hear.

“Just let them have this. They worked very hard for it.”

“I understand, but their behavior is quite…”

“Intrusive?” You add.

“Very much so,” he sighs as he drinks. “It took me until Perona broke three cups to understand this was deliberate.”

“For a bit, I thought they were trying to kill me,” you joke.

“They’d know better than to try such a thing,” Mihawk shakes his head.

“Although, knowing they’re trying to pull this off makes it a bit sweeter,” you comment.

“What do you mean?” Mihawk raises a brow.

“It’s sweet that they’re trying to do this for us. It’s rare we get to spend time together like this nowadays. Usually it’s us taking care of them and training them, but now they’re making us a candlelit dinner.”

Mihawk’s lips curl into a grin. “You are correct. Even though I would not have done it like this, it’s still rather charming.”

You and Mihawk quietly chatted throughout the three course-meal. Occasionally, you heard the grunts and arguing between Perona and Zoro from their hiding spot in the bushes. Mihawk would urge you to ignore them as you two laughed and reminisced throughout the evening. Seeing Mihawk relax more and more as he continued talking to you was a treat for Perona and Zoro.

“I think… I think I’m starting to see what you mean,” the swordsman said.

“See! Told ya!” Perona smirked. “Look at how he’s melting at their words and smiling.”

“I didn’t think he could do that,” Zoro replied, impressed at how you managed to make Mihawk’s lips form a grin.

“They’re almost done eating, now for phase two!” Perona pumped her fists and shot up from the bush. You and Mihawk glanced at her as she floated towards the woods, with Zoro following after her.

“What do you think they’re up to now?”

“I feel as if I really do not want to know,” Mihawk sighed. You two waited patiently, until Perona and Zoro came back with a pack of Humandrills. Your eyes widened as you gasped, while Mihawk stayed silent, waiting to see what would happen next. Perona forced the Humandrills to stop before she pulled out a box from a nearby bush.

“Now do what we said!” She demanded as she shoved a violin to a Humandrill. The Humandrill began to make disapproving noises at her commands. She gave a few more Humandrills other instruments before she pointed at Mihawk.

The Humandrills looked up the Warlord and then forced a nervous grin and nodded, beginning to play their instruments in sync. You were amazed as they played a slow, romantic song.

“I…I didn’t know they could do that,” you mumble.

“Neither did I,” Mihawk stared in awe. You were so entranced by the makeshift orchestra that you didn’t notice Mihawk looking at you, as if debating with himself. He heard Perona and Zoro clear their throats and glanced to them. Perona and Zoro pointed at you and nodded.

“I guess this was their plan from the start…” Mihawk whispered before he stood up and cleared his throat. “(Y/n).”

“Hm? Yes, Mihawk?” You asked, looking into his eyes with an expecting expression. He extended his hand to you.

“Would you like to dance?” He inquired, his eyes briefly moving away from yours. A bright smile was on your face as you nodded and took his hand.

“I’d love nothing more,” you answer, and for a second, you think you notice a red blush appear on his cheeks.

You two head to the center and Mihawk gently pulls you in closer, an arm around your waist as your other hands are clasped together. He sways with you, careful to not be too forceful or rough. The Humandrills are getting more excited, along with Zoro and Perona, as some of them begin to hum and vocalize.

Your smile is bright and beautiful as you look radiant, even in the night sky.

“I hope you are enjoying tonight.” “I am, very much. I won’t forget this night for a long time,” you reply. Mihawk closes his eyes and nods.

“I don’t think I will, either.”

He twirls you around as you let out a laugh from the thrilling motion. You two continue to look into each other’s eyes, the unspoken feelings you have for the other clear to the both of you. Despite being in such a vulnerable position, Mihawk finds the feeling rather enjoyable. Having you in his arms, dancing underneath the stars to some beautiful music after a lovely meal- he hasn’t felt this carefree in a long time. You lean closer to him and Mihawk enjoys how you’re trying to get his attention. But you already have it.

He stops dancing, keeping you both locked in an intense eye contact with his arm around your waist. It’s only you two now, as Mihawk gulps and slowly leans his face to you, silently asking for you to reciprocate. You close your eyes and do the same, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

It’s not lecherous or sloppy, but a gentle kiss with you that says everything he cannot verbalize.

He loves you, loves you so much that he can’t help but be so gentle and yearn for you. How he wishes to protect you and continue to have your presence within his life. How he loves your smile, your voice, your words, your everything that makes you, you in this lonely world.

He wishes to say more through touch, but the need for air arises as you both move away.

“I love you,” you say first. He presses kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, too.”

Perona and Zoro clap at your confessions and Mihawk remembers that he’s in front of others.

“Perona, Zoro,” he calls, his voice low. The two jolt nervously, unsure of what he’s going to do. His lips curve upwards as he glances at them and says a simple phrase, “Thank you.”

#one piece x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #divider by saradika #x reader

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teamatsumu · 1 year ago

Text

The End of NNN (gojo satoru x reader)

word count: 800-ish

warnings: fem!reader, pure smut, slight somno, multiple orgasms, mentions of anal, whiny!gojo

When the clock strikes midnight, making it 1st December 2023, Satoru immediately rips your clothes off (yes, he rips them off) before mounting you like a dog and bullying his weeping, rock hard cock into your unprepped pussy.

You gasp as the intrusion wakes you up with a jolt, blinking a few times to try and adjust, but Satoru gives you no time, drilling into you with quick, sloppy and rushed strokes. His resulting moan is pornographic, and he already sounds so wrecked that it makes you subconsciously tighten around him.

“Sh-shit, baby.” He chokes out, hooking his hands behind your knees and forcing your legs farther apart so he can watch your pretty pussy swallow his dick and make it wet. He feels insane. He can’t describe it. The glorious feeling of your warm, tight hole has him on the edge already, and he is almost angry at himself for holding out an entire month.

How Gojo Satoru managed to not nut for the entirety of November, you would never know. In fact, you had been so sure he would fail, you had promised him you would do anything he wanted in bed if he succeeded. Turns out Satoru had those lofty goals in mind when he managed to shut down all of your advances, refusing to let you anywhere near his dick, even going on long, difficult missions to make sure he was not tempted by your body. But he is here now, nearly whining at how fucking good your fluttering cunt feels, rutting into you rough and hard.

He doesn’t even fully thrust, unable to bear the thought of not being in your pussy for even a single second. His thrusts are shallow and choppy, head continuously pressing into your sweet spot, and that’s what puts you right on the edge.

Above you, your boyfriend is a sight. His hair is all over the place from when he tossed and turned restlessly as he waited for midnight. His pale skin is now flushed a pretty deep pink, sweat gathered on his hairline. His pupils are so blown that the brilliant blue of his eyes is reduced to a tiny ring right by the edges. And he is looking at you like you are his last meal on Earth.

“Satoru,” You whine, fisting the pillow under your head for any semblance of control. “‘M gonna cum.”

“Fuck.” Satoru sounded close to tears. “God, baby, your fucking cunt is so tight around me. How did I go without this shit for a month, huh? I’m a fucking idiot. Fuck, I missed your little whore body. Look at you, taking my cock like a champ. Fuck, I’m gonna cum in you baby, gonna fill you up-”

And then he is cumming with a long, low whine, nails digging into your hips and pelvis flush against yours, releasing ropes and ropes of cum into you. There’s so much of it that it leaks right past the base of his dick, traveling down from your pussy and through your asscrack. The feeling of it cooling on your skin has you shivering.

He had lasted barely 2 minutes.

Satoru is still moaning, one shaky arm holding him up, hips still not stopping. You gasp when a pleasurable jolt goes through your body, eyes widening when you realise your boyfriend is still rock hard. He is barely paying any attention to you, one hand holding the headboard above you while the other runs up your body until it is wrapping gently yet firmly around your throat to hold you in place. You moan at the feeling.

His thrusts this time around are longer and deeper, nearly pulling out to the tip before slamming hard into you. Every slam of his hips takes your breath away, pulling out a sweet cry every time from your lips. You feel ecstatic, having missed the way your boyfriend’s cock carves into you. Satoru was not the only one who suffered the effects of No Nut November. Your pussy had yearned for him just as much as his cock had missed you.

Satoru’s second orgasm is quick to come, thrusts speeding up and voice getting an octave higher as he dumps another load of his cum into you, biceps contracting with the effort of holding his trembling body up. His mere reactions can be enough to make you cum too. You had never seen him like this, so whiny, so desperate, such a huge mess of sweat and a slight film of tears coating his pretty eyes. He had always been the one in control, the one who reduces you to pathetic pleas and begs. Yet here he is, looking like he had run three hundred miles, sweaty and breathless and an absolute wreck.

He shows no signs of stopping though, now leaning down to wrap his arms around your waist and pull your body tight against his. He sets a fast pace, rutting into you like an animal in heat, this position placing his lips right next to your ear, so you can hear all of his little noises. They are almost contagious, making you moan and cry along with him. One shaky hand of his reaches down, fiddling roughly with your clit until the feeling of it all is too much and you are cumming hard on his cock, tears pooling in your lash line at the dizzying feeling. Satoru lasts longer this time around, managing to pull another mind numbing orgasm from you before his balls are contracting again, shooting more ropes of white into your already fully stuffed cunt.

He goes slack on top of you, resting his full weight on you as he tries to catch his breath. His thumb, still twirling leisurely around your sensitive little nub, now travels down to your hole, pulling his cock out to feel how much cum pours out now that he isn’t plugging it inside. He hums in approval when you jump a bit and giggle.

“You feeling better?” You ask, not at all surprised at how wrecked you sounded.

“Hm,” Is his only response, and his hand travels further down, before he pokes at a different hole.

You yelp and your eyes widen, body stiffening. You turn your head until you’re looking into Satoru’s eyes, now back to his normal magnificent blue, and shining with something devious.

“I want my reward now, sweetcheeks.” He smirks, and combining that with the deep flush on his cheeks and the sweat coating his forehead makes him look even more sinister. Your pussy throbs at the sight.

The tip of his thumb slips inside, aided by the cum that had dripped out of your pussy and down to there. You bite your lip in anticipation, and let Satoru use you how he wanted.

He had earned it, after all.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagine #jjk fanfiction #gojo fanfic #gojo imagine

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dixonsstinkysock · 8 days ago

Text

It’s Temporary

AN: This was going to be a random blurb but I’m too into this and he’s such a dork. Guys don’t tell anyone but I kinda wanna write smut, I’m not going to because I’m scared but y’know.

(Heavily inspired by a bot on C.AI, pretty sure the user is @/zetali_09 so if you see this i love you.)

Warnings: Swearing, mention of an apartment blowing up….suggestive???

Set during Season 1, before the timeskip…

The cold, Upper city, night air chilled you to the core. The dark streets only illuminated by the few street lights scattered here and there. You wrap your cloak around you a little tighter as you made your way to the meeting spot. Making a sharp turn down a dark alleyway, you narrowly miss a couple of enforcers doing their nightly rounds.

Leaning against the cool, damp, brick wall. Enjoying the noises of the city, letting time pass by as you wait for your companion. Around a half an hour later, you hear heavy footsteps and the soft click of the high-cost, well made shoes echoing throughout the alley. You recognized those steps, he saved up for a long time to purchase those shoes, no way could you forget them. You open your eyes, turning towards the culprit of the noise. “Took you long enough, thought I was gonna rot out here.” You smiled at the shadowed man, stepping into the moonlight.

“Sorry, had a few things to finish up with my work. Left later than I expected…”

You walk up to him, trapping him into one if your famous bear hugs. An unfamiliar scent wafts from him, its sweet…it’s expensive. Definitely not his signature cologne smell—no, something different. You both stay there for a moment, enjoying the new company. Everything seems to fade away when your with him, it’s like he’s the cure to your disease.

“Been a while since we last talked—“

“Yeah, I…” You pull back, looking Jayce in the eyes. “I’m sorry. There’s been alot going on.”

His hands come up to your face, gently caressing it. He’s always gentle with you, a contrast from the rough, dangerous streets you grew up in.

“Hey…What’s going on?” His voice is soft and smooth, with the occasional voice crack, it’s not fair. His looks already make him desirable, but hearing him talk to you with that tone? Drooling.

“It’s my siblings, they’ve been getting into more and more trouble.” You fully pull away from him, turning towards the lit up entrance of the alleyway. “It’s like Vi doesn’t even realize how bad things can really get.”

“Hey—“ He takes a step foward, gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you to him. “I’m here. I’m here to help—with anything. We’ll figure this out okay?”

A bittersweet smile graces your lips, you close your hand over his placed on your shoulder.

“You don’t know the Undercity, Jayce. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help me on this one…”

The two of you stood there, unspeaking. You can practically hear the gears burning inside Jayce’s head. You can almost smell the smoke coming from them, It’s obvious he’s thinking of ways to try and help you and your family. After a moment, you rest your head onto his chest, defeated, and looking for comfort.

“I can’t let you risk you life for this. You have too much ahead of you.”

You feel his arms wrap around you, bringing you closer. He buries his face into your hair, breathing in your scent.

“There is nothing ahead of me without you.” You lock your arms around him, holding back a few tears. Jayce feels you taking fast, deep breaths, attempting to keep your composure. It’s all been alot, apparently your kid siblings were being nosy—blew up some guys apartment. Now every enforcer in Piltover is searching for them. You take a deep breath, leaning up straight to face him again.

“I won’t let you risk your life for me…risk your future—”

“I’m not some idiot throwing himself into danger for fun! I’m protecting someone I love.”

That. That catches you off guard. Yes, you two have been messing around every other night, cuddling after, speaking soft sweet words to each other…but love? He didn’t really love you did he? You’re from the Undercity. The scum of the scum. He’s from the top, he’s perfect. No way he actually means this…does he?

“I’m choosing to do this because I care about you, I care about your family. You aren’t alone in this, no matter how much you think you are.”

Time stops for what feels like hours, you gaze into his eyes, trying to find some kind of sign to tell you he isn’t being true. You can’t. His caramel eyes look gold from the street lights, determined and dead set on aiding you. You let your head fall onto his chest again, giving him your unspoken permission to help with your situation.

“I just realized I didn’t ask about how you’ve been.”

His arms tighten around your body, gently rocking you both back and forth. “Ha…” Jayce lets out a breathy chuckle, preparing himself to recount the most recent and life changing events. “It’s been different…Some guys blew up my apartment.”

You freeze. There’s no way they did that. It can’t be the same apartment right? How many apartments blow up in Piltover? Oh my god. My siblings blew up his fucking apartment. “Uh…” You can’t even form a sentence, still shocked at the new information. What are you going to tell him—

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah—are you okay? You’re fucking apartment blew up!” You pull back from him, facing him again. Your hands find their place on his waist, trying to ground yourself after what you were just told.

“My back’s still a little sore but I’m fine.”

“How much did you lose?” His mood darkened, eyes darting to the ground. “Alot.” You take a deep breath, This shouldn’t have happened. He is a good man, maybe a little crazy sometimes but—good. This whole thing is a mess. Jayce doesn’t know your sisters are the ones who blew up his apartment, you can’t go and get onto them for this because they don’t know you’re with him. You’re stuck, with no one to go to, maybe Vander but…he’d get upset that you’re up here with a topsider. Just so happens, he’s the same topsider your sisters were targeting.

This is fucking stupid.

After giving him your apologies, you realize it’s getting light. You should start heading back home, hopefully without Vander noticing you were gone.

“Jayce, It’s getting early. I gotta start heading back…”

“So soon..?” He smiles, he’s clearly up to something as he brings his hands up to your jaw. The sun is slowly rising, changing the sky into beautiful hues of orange and blue.

“Have to get back before Vander wakes up, I do not wanna hear that lecture.”

“Do you have to? Maybe you could…stay with me?”

“Stay…Topside. With you.”

“Yeah, I mean we could spend the day together. Go and do something…” He takes your hands into his own, engulfing them. You take a moment to think about his request. It’d be fun spending time with him, you’d be able to really enjoy his company. Not waiting for something or someone to come out of the shadows, trying to rob you or worse.

“Okay…What did you have in mind?” A smug look slowly plagues his face as he takes your hands into his, leading you out of the alley and in the direction of his temporary home.

“Trust me?”

You grip his hands tighter, letting him lure you into whatever devious plan he’s set up.

“Maybe…”

Two shadows danced against the stone road, slowly disappearing as the sun rose higher into the sky. One by one, doors open, carriages roll by, and the occasional stray kid runs in front of you two. None of that matters, not when his callused, warm hands are handling you so gently. When he looks at you like you’re his world…like he can’t live without you.

It definitely doesn’t matter when he pulls you into his hotel, hands roaming each others clothed figures as he closes the door behind you.

Guys…Part 2?? What y’all think 😈

#ayce is cooking 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋#arcane jayce #arcane netflix #arcane #jayce x reader #jayce talis #jayce league of legends #jayce talis x reader

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tsukisrants · 4 months ago

Text

TIME TO WORK

Park Seonghwa x Reader

Warnings: Rough sex, Name calling, Slut shaming, Sex in exchange of money, Kind of Hate Sex?, Spit, Anal play, Choking, Dom/sub undertones, Humiliation, Degradation, Slapping, Spanking, Creampie!!, Squirting, Unprotected Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough Oral Sex…,

Word Count: 9.268

“You’re in a desperate need for a job, and you go and ask for help to Park Seonghwa, one of the richest men in the country. Thing his, you broke his heart years ago: now he wants payback.”

————————smut under the cut ————————

Waiting has never been a problem for you.

Not once, expect for now.

See, you’re pretty prideful of your patience and of the way you can handle situations when experiencing stress.

Now? You look like a damn fool.

You’re not even sure you can actually recognize yourself, if you were to be completely honest.

Standing in front of that door, desperate and pathetic.

Your arms are shaking, your hands feel cold and weak.

If you were to grab a butterfly, the little thing would probably laugh at you and bite you.  And we all know butterflies don’t actually bite.

Do they?

You have no idea.

Right now, your only thought is: will I be able to make it?

Will I look like an idiot in front of him?

Will he laugh at me?

Will I like it?

“Miss? Miss…?”

What? What?

You turn you head and you see the girl: confused eyes, hair tied up neatly and arms busy carrying so many papers.

“Oh- Hi… I booked an appointment a while ago? I think one of your colleagues let me in, I’m Y/N…”, you stutter, clearing your throat as you try to get out of your own head and focus on the situation that you inevitably have to deal with.

“Right! Yes, of course”, says the girl. She smiles, but it’s fake. A smile made out of obligation, out of compassion. It’s her job, nothing more. She doesn’t care about you: just like you don’t care about her.

She’s just a mean to an end, and she knows it.

“Please, follow me, dear. Mr Park is ready to meet you”, she adds, waving her hands towards the door, suggesting you to use those useless limbs of yours and start to move.

You like this girl: she looks perfect in her role.

She doesn’t give a fuck about anything, and she makes you feel at ease, somehow.

She has no idea why you’re here, but in her eyes, her bored eyes, you sense that she feels pity for the dumb girl standing in front of the door of one of the most powerful men in South Korea.

The door is closer.

You’re walking and you don’t even notice it until it’s too late not to.

The door handle is shiny, glistening under the lights.

You want to scream at it.

To rip it off the door and run away: that thing probably would cover your rent cost for the whole month if you sold it.

“Mr Park, your appointment is here”, you hear.

You’re gonna faint.

You so are gonna faint.

You don’t.

You don’t how you manage not to, but the only thing that matters is that you didn’t.

There’s really no need for any other reasons for you to feel like an idiot right now.

The ones you have are already more than enough.

“Let them in, thank you.”

Ok, now you’ll faint.

No way.

It’s been a while since you last heard his voice, but it changed so much whilst remaining so… warm. So him.

You take a deep breath, because now the door isn’t just closer: it’s open.

Fist thing you notice?

The smell.

Or, well, the richness of it.

With all your senses you only are able to perceive one thing: power.

Power and money.

The door closes behind you.

The girl not by your side anymore.

You’re alone now.

But not really, because when you finally raise your head you’re finally able to see him.

Park Seonghwa.

The man everyone either wants, or wants to be.

The man you’ve had, if only for a few months, back when you both were stupid teens.

The same man that is now looking at you, staring you down with that piercing gaze of his.

It’s hard for you to open your mouth and speak up, but you know that you have to, and quickly.

It’s hard, when you have Korea’s wet dream right in front of you.

“H-Hi”, you say.

Which is actually pretty pathetic, especially considering the way your voice shakes and the fact that you should be at least attempting some sort of professionalism given the circumstances.

Well, at least it makes him laugh.

Which means that yes, he recognized you.  

And yes, you actually don’t mind being laughed at.

You don’t know if it’s a thing for you or just the fact that you don’t mind it if he’s the one laughing, which in your opinion would be fair.

“Hello, Y/N. To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?”

Well, fuck.

First thing first, he said your name: and he made it sound like the nastiest thing in the world.

Or maybe you’re just a slut, you can’t really decide.

Whatever.

And the sarcasm.

He’s still mad at you, just like you expected.

You did disappear from his life with no explanation and flew to another country whilst in a relationship with him, after all.

In your defence, you were a dumb kid: you were younger than he was and desperately in love with him. Saying goodbye would have killed you, so you made the most childish and selfish decision ever: you just went away.

One day you guys were holding hands and making plans, and the day after you were just… gone.

You had to leave everything behind cause your mom and dad divorced, and you mother couldn’t bare to keep on living in the same country as the man that ruined her life.

So you followed her, and you two moved on together.

 You forgot all about perfect Park Seonghwa, or that’s what you like to tell yourself.

Because if you really had forgotten all about the man, you wouldn’t be standing in his office ready to humiliate yourself.

“W-well… you see, I’m… I thought that maybe…”, words keep on falling from your lips, now all bitten from the nervousness you had to endure waiting for this moment.

Seonghwa isn’t impressed.

He takes his hands out of the pockets of his slacks, only to bring them to his chest. He crosses his arms and slightly tilts his head to the side, an eyebrow raised and a judgment mixed with a not so well hidden amusement written all over his face.

“Y-You t-thought what, exactly?”

Ok, you didn’t expect that.

Mocking you already?

A sign, that’s what this is. A sign that you should turn your heels and fucking run as far as possible from this man.

He looks possessed.

He looks so mean, despite his ethereal beauty.

Obviously, you don’t run.

You wouldn’t be here in the first place if you had any self preservation or respect.

“M’sorry, Hwa, I really am. I know I’ve been”, you try to say, but he cuts you off.

He doesn’t let you finish.

“Who’s Hwa? It’s Mr Park to you”, he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Like you’re a stupid fucking idiot just cause you thought you could refer to him like you used to.

“Sir, if I’m feeling kind and if you’ve earned it”, he adds, dropping himself on his pompous chair.

His legs are slightly spread: not enough to be vulgar, but just right. To show dominance, and to make you see that he really owns this place.

Not like you had any doubts, but whatever.

It’s not like you mind it anyways.

You wish you had any smart come-back for his tone, but you don’t.

And, well, you’re in no position to be a jerk: you came here to beg, after all.

“M-Mr Park…” you start, and he chuckles.

“That’s more like it”, he comments, and you don’t miss the way his tongue goes to wet those sinful lips of his.

You follow every single one of his movements, as if you’re trying to study them, as if staring at him could help you achieve your goals.

Only thing is helping you achieve is getting wet in front of your ex-boyfriend, but that’s not the point.

“I know I have no right to come here and ask you for help, but-“, you take a deep breath, “I- I lost my job and I’m alone and I have rent and bills and I’m behind with my payments… if I don’t hand the money to my landlord tonight they’re gonna kick me out and…”

He looks surprised, amused, confused and much more.

You, well… you look humiliated, that’s for sure.

But you knew it was bound to happen, and you’d rather beg for mercy than sleep under a bridge or who knows where else.

“And you’re telling me this because…” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer to that.

He’s enjoying this just like you expected.

“C-cause I thought t-that maybe you could help, l-like what’s some money to you, anyways? And you and I, we have a past, you’d be helping an old friend?”

You’re so shameless, it’s disgusting.

But, desperate times call for desperate way, or something like that.

You just know that you need the money, and you need them now.

He laughs, out loud. Shaking his head and muttering about how absurd this whole situation is, as if you don’t know it already. But whatever:

“I’ll pay you back, of course. Just… give me some time and I promise, Hw- Mr Park, I promise I’ll pay you back.”

He gets up.

He looks mean, and his face hides something.

He looks huge, and you stand in place, frozen.

You’re breathing heavily, and you notice that your hands are shaking.

Your legs, too.

Cold sweat is running down your spine, and you feel lost.

He gets closer.

He’s so beautiful, and he gets more handsome with every step he takes towards your trembling figure.

“Money is nothing to me, you’re right. But you really think that, after everything you did to me, I’m just gonna pay your debts? After humiliating me like that, breaking my heart? Are you really that much of a shameless bitch, Y/N?”

His voice is sharp, and his words hit you like daggers.

But, to be honest, you were waiting for them to come. You knew they were.

That doesn’t make them less hurtful.

Seonghwa is right in front of you, and to look at him in the eyes you have to slightly tilt your head, cause he’s so much taller than you now.

He smells rich, and warm. Different than he used to, more mature.

He’s a man now, that much is very clear to you.

His proximity makes you even more nervous, but at the same time the familiarity of it gives you some confidence.

“I-I’m sorry, I swear I am”, you murmur, and you notice that tears are starting to fill your eyes.

He looks pleased at the sight of it, and your belly tightens at the implications of him being engaged in your suffering.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” he repeats after you, chuckling as tears spill from your eyes, crossing your reddening cheeks.

“You want my money, Y/N? You want a bed and a roof on your head?”, he asks, and one of his hands unexpectedly comes up to your face, gently caressing it.

His touch is light and delicate, but you still feel shivers run through your body.

You nod desperately, murmuring a “yes, please” that he barely hears.

“Then you‘ll have to earn it”, he says.

His face is unreadable, but you can’t believe that, despite everything, he’d be willing to help. You feel so happy you could die, and you’re ready to do anything in order to save yourself from the streets.

“I will! I have my degree and I’ll be more than happy to-“, he stops you, and you frown.

From his expression it seems like he’s ready to make fun of you.

“A degree?”, he asks, and you nod, ready to explain yourself, but he doesn’t allow you to.

“You don’t need a degree to suck my dick, Y/N.”

The world is silent.

Your blood is too loud. You feel your heartbeat and his, you feel everything and nothing at the same time.

You’re confused, but not a single word comes out your mouth.

After that, he doesn’t say a word. He just goes a few steps back and leans against his desk.

His legs are open, and you see the bulge of his cock that’s clearly starting to get hard.

You don’t move, you just try to get your brain to function.

What does this mean? Is he serious?

He must be joking, right?

But he isn’t, and you know it: this is payback.

It was going too well, to smoothly.

And now, after all these years, he’s finally granted the chance to humiliate you and destroy you the way you did to him.

The thing is: you need the money. You really do, and you did say that you’d do anything to get it.

But this? This means whoring yourself out.

This means becoming a slut, and nothing more.

With this thought in mind, you move your first steps: not towards the door, to run as fast as possible away from him, but towards his imposing figure.

He laughs, almost as if he doesn’t actually believe what’s happening in front of him.

“You have no shame, do you? Are you really this pathetic?”

As you fall on your knees in front of him, you can’t do anything but agree with his words

He mutters a few curses, and you take the deepest breath ever known to man.

Then, you look up, and are met with the bulge of his cock, tight inside his expensive slacks.

“What a fucking slut”, he says, before moving his arms and grabbing you by the hair.

He forces your face against his crotch, and you almost fall: you find yourself grabbing his thighs in order not to.

He’s rough, and nothing like the gentle Seonghwa you knew and loved as a teenager: the one that would touch you as if you’d break, like you were a delicate flower.

You don’t really miss him.

“Wish I could call everyone from school to let them know that you’re sucking my dick for money, that you’re a worthless slut that would take dick for a few bucks”, he says, pushing his hips against your face, rubbing his clothed cock over it.

The smell of it is intense, and the weight of it scares you: it’s huge, you can tell. So fucking big that it’s not fair.

Your mind is racing, your heart is pounding, and you can feel the tears streaming down your face as you realize the depth of your desperation. But you push those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. You’re ready to do whatever it takes to get the money you need.

As you lean forward, ready to fulfill his demands, a voice in your head screams at you to stop.

This isn't right. This isn't who you are.

But the fear of being homeless, of losing everything, pushes you forward.

That fear, and that humiliation, they also make you wetter than you’ve ever been before.

Shame burns into your chest, flames running through your veins.

“Bet you’d suck their cocks, too, wouldn’t you?”

His words sting in the most delicious way, and you find yourself purring against the big cock in front of your face.

“Wouldn’t you?” he asks again, grabbing your hair and forcing your face slightly upwards, enough to have your gazes meet.

It’s exhilarating to say the least, this feeling of shame and submission that is swimming through your shaking body.

“Y-yours, want- want your cock, not- only yours,” you mumble, your brain barely functioning at this point as you’re way too inebriated by the arousal building inside you.

He seems pleased, very much so. His tongue rapidly escapes his mouth and you watch, enchanted, as it wets his juicy lips.

I find yourself staring and wishing that tongue could be inside your pussy, forcing it open as more fluid escapes from it, leaving your panties wet and humid.

“Then take it out and get to work. Time is money, isn’t it? Don’t you wanna earn more?” he chuckles, moving around his seat.

You see him bend over a little and soon after that he takes his wallet, pulling out a shiny banknote.

You watch cautiously as he waves it in front of your face, and the image that appears before your eyes is one of the most humiliating and exciting you have ever seen.

You startle when, unexpectedly, he drops it against your helpless body.

The banknote brushes against your face before falling on your thighs, and this only motivates you to do better, to show him how much you are worth.

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper, finally getting to work and working his pants. You unfasten his belt, the sound loud and steady as your breathing increases and gets heavier.

It takes some effort, but you actually manage to take his pants down his thighs and have them reach the floor along with his boxer briefs.

They pool obscenely at his ankles, and he makes himself comfortable on his expensive chair, spreading his legs wider and wider.

You find the courage to look up at his cock, and the sight of it is enough to pull a moan from you, one that leaves you even more ashamed of yourself.

“So big,” you mutter out, pressing your own legs together from when your kneeling to find some release, to soothe the burning need to be filled up that’s been rushing through your body.

Your pussy clenches around nothing and it’s pathetic, because he hasn’t even touched you once.

Guess you’re just that much of a slut, after all.

“Yeah? You like it, slut? You like this big cock?” he asks, pushing his hips upwards and making said cock move in front of your face.

It’s thick, long, and so, so hard.

The tip of it is the prettiest shade of red and pink, and it’s glistening with his arousal.

Veins run through the length of it and you can see it pulse with the need to be shoved inside something.

That something is you.

Cause, after all, that’s your purpose here.

To be a hole for him to fuck into.

To be a thing, a nothing else. Nothing more than that.

“I love it, love your cock,” you whisper, reaching out to grab it at the base with your hands.

Seonghwa stops you, grabbing harshly at your wrists and forcing your body closer to his as you stumble forwards.

“No hands,” he orders, smiling maliciously.

“Lick it, start with my balls,” he orders, biting at his plump lower lip, his eyes shining with an intense darkness.

His words are, unsurprisingly, harsh and mean.

And, well, just as unsurprisingly, you find yourself loving them and enjoying the rush that they provide to you.

The air around you starts to get heavy and dense, and it’s almost like you can feel the weight of it as it presses down against your flushed skin.

Your blood is loud as it swims through your veins, and you hear beats fast, the sound of it reaching your ears.

His tone leaves out any possible refusal, so you just… obey.

It’s empowering, exhilarating.

It’s everything you’ve always craved without even knowing it.

Slowly, you lean over and breathe in, the powerful scent of his arousal hitting you and invading your senses, dominating your whole being.

The only thing that’s in your mind right now is the irresistible need of pleasing him and showing him that you’re worth his money, nothing else.

With that thought in mind, you finally get into work.

Your mouth salivating and wetting itself, you stick your tongue out and fulfill his wishes, lapping at his balls and nuzzling against the sensitive skin.

The groan he lets out vibrates through the room and sends shivers all the way down your spine.

“That’s it,” he grunts, as he pushes his hips forwards and works at his tie, untying it and proceeding then to open his nice dress shirt, button after button, showing inches of defined skin, muscles tensed with the way pleasure is circling around his body.

He’s rather magnificent, sitting in front of you and holding so much power, so much energy that it feels like the room is going to implode with it.

“Good girl,” he moans, forcing his hips upwards as you take them inside your mouth, the weight of his sack filling you up as you lick at it, feeling the skin and its texture against your tongue, moaning as your nose presses against the base of his dick, making it harder to breathe normally.

His words force a moan out of your mouth, too, and he notices it, chuckling softly through his low moans.

You feel something at your neck and notice soon enough that what’s now circling your throat isn’t is hand, no.

It’s his tie, forcing you closer to his balls and basically working as a fucking leash.

“Look at you, such an obedient little bitch, aren’t you?”

The way your hips stutter and wave doesn’t help, and you feel like a puppy wiggling their tail when presented with a treat.

“Bark,” he orders, allowing you to breathe and leaving your mouth empty, a trail of spit connection his balls, now shining and wet, with your parted, and roughed up lips.

You blush profoundly, your cheeks turning a crimson red as you consider his order.

Barking feels completely dehumanizing, and your hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed, not in the slightest.

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, one of his eyebrows lifting up as he eyes you curiously, as if posing a challenge to you, daring you to try and refuse to follow one of his orders.

“It’s embarrassing…” you whisper, breathing heavily and trying to avoid looking at him in the eyes, failing at it when he tugs at the tie resting against your neck, making you get closer to the cock standing proudly in front of your face.

“Do I look like I fucking care?”

And soon enough, a bark is escaping your mouth, faint and barely audible.

It’s not enough, he says.

You bark again, loudly this time, shaking from where you’re kneeling and feeling the wetness between your legs get more difficult to ignore.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? I’d say you’re a natural,” he snarls, laughing at you as he looks down at your body.

Tears of utter humiliation fill your pleading eyes, and the sight of it makes Seonghwa groan deeply.

He grabs his own dick at the base, giving it a few pumps, before hitting you in the face with the tip, smearing his precum all over your flushed face.

One of the tears you were fighting back betray you, escaping your lashed and running down your cheek.

Seonghwa licks his lips and rubs the tip of his dick against it, wetting his cock with your tears only to start rubbing it against your lips, making you taste your humiliation along with his arousal.

It’s salty and sour and sweet altogether, and you already find yourself getting addicted to it, needing more and more and more.

So you get your tongue out, lapping at the shiny tip of his cock. You circle around the head, moaning at the feeling of warmth that spreads through your tongue.

“Tastes good,” you mutter out, licking fervently at his cock as he keeps on stroking himself, grunting from where he’s sitting.

You go even further than just staying there, licking at it, and you take his wrist into your hand and pull it off his own dick, surprising him with your determination.

Seonghwa lets you have some fun with it, allowing you to reach out to grab the length of his cock.

You have it in your hands, finally.

You stroke it once, twice, before bending over a little bit to push the head inside your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking gently at it to try and taste as much as possible of his delicious juice.

“Fuck,” he groans, using one of his hands to keep your hair out of your face, giving him space to look at your eyes as you get your mouth stuffed full of his thick cock.

You take your time, eager to savor every drop of his pleasure, to give yourself to him and make him satisfied like never before.

His cock slides between your parted lips with extreme ease, filling your mouth completely, giving you a sensation of fullness never felt before and leaving you inevitably curious to know how it would feel if he filled you up elsewhere too.

The reddened tip of his cock meets the back of your throat and choking sounds escape from your mouth, and when he hears them he just moans even more, louder than before.

He enjoys watching you struggle to take more in your mouth and it pushes you to relax your throat and let his big cock fill you completely, taking your breath away for a few seconds, and making spit fall from your lips and down your chin.

It’s so fucking messy and dirty and it makes your head spin with shame and arousal.

Your whole face is wet with a mixture of spit and tears and precum and you find yourself wanting and needing more of it.

“You look so good with your mouth stuffed full of my cock, this is exactly what you were born for,” he groans, pushing his trembling hips upwards and forcing another choking sound out of you, at which he utters out a few curses.

“I’ll double the money I was gonna give you if you bend over the desk and let me fuck you raw in the pussy, what do you say? Want a new dress? Some fucking new shoes?” he asks, still rutting his hips against your face and forcing you to swallow his whole cock down your aching throat.

You should probably refuse. Sucking Seonghwa's cock is one thing, but this? This would mean going way beyond, and the thought sends your mind into complete turmoil.

He seems to have little patience, and that's why he roughly grabs you by the hair and pulls his hard cock out of your mouth, leaving you empty and gasping.

"So? I don't have all day, Y/n," he asks, running his own hand along his cock, wet and slick thanks to your saliva that’s now coating it and slapping you in the face with the red tip, making you hiss at the impact.

“I want- I want three times the money for that,” you say, challenging him to deny your request, to say no and refuse.

He doesn’t.

“Let’s do four, since I also want to play with your asshole,” he smiles, bending over towards you and patting at your cheek like one would do with a puppy.

You gasp and try to find something to snarl back at him, but nothing comes out of your mouth, nothing but a little whimper that only serves to make him feel even more powerful.

Seonghwa stands up, and you notice how he is more or less dressed: his pants fallen to his ankles along with his boxers, the jacket resting on the back of the chair, the expensive white shirt completely open, showing off his sculpted chest and the magnificence of his body, covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Now that he is standing, Seonghwa looms even more over you, making your breath catch and your poor heart beat even faster.

Seonghwa grabs you by the hair, and the sudden movement forces you to stand up and follow his will.

"You're too dressed, what kind of slut are you?" he asks, grabbing the fabric of your blouse and pulling it slightly. In response, you bite your lip and decide to make amends, quickly unbuttoning your shirt and letting it fall softly to the ground.

You're not wearing a bra, you never do.

The air hitting your nipples only makes them more turgid, and your skin is crossed by countless shivers.

He gasps at the sight of your exposed skin, and it makes you feel so good, to be looked at with such want, with pure and utter hunger and desire.

Seeing Seonghwa burning with the desire to possess you gives you a courage that you probably wouldn't have otherwise, so you push yourself further, unbuttoning your skirt and letting it fall forgotten at your feet.

Black lace panties adorn your body, and you feel the wet and soaked fabric rubbing against your most sensitive spot.

You are left only with the soft white knee-high socks and your shiny black loafers, standing in front of one of the richest and most powerful men in Korea.

“That’s more like it,” he chuckles, licking his lips and looking at you from head to toe, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“You’re so hot, Y/n. You made the right choice, coming here. This little body of yours was made to be fucked, and what better way to earn money than spread your legs and let me do just that, huh?” he murmurs, as one of his hands goes down to his cock. He strokes himself as he watches you, and it makes your skin burn, to be looked at in such a dirty, naughty manner.

His tie is still around your neck, the only garment covering you along with your panties and knee-high socks.

The black fabric is in perfect contrast with your skin, and even though the tie is very light, it feels immensely heavy where it rests.

"Fuck me," you whisper to Seonghwa, because you too are starting to feel extremely horny and in need of attention.

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, and his hand collides with your cheek, making you turn your face to the side.

The blow wasn't overly strong, but still impactful. Enough to make you catch your breath for a second and to remind you who is in control here.

"Rude. Where are your manners?" Seonghwa asks, dangerously approaching you and grabbing your chin, squeezing the skin and forcing you to look at him.

"Please, I beg you, sir, fuck me," you whimper, now completely abandoned to him and totally under his control.

"Now, that's better," Seonghwa whispers, and shortly after he makes your lips collide in a quick and fierce kiss. He bites your lip, making you moan against his mouth, before pulling away from you.

"Good girl. You act all tough, but you just want someone to put you in your place, don't you? Want me to show you who’s in charge?"

His words are exactly what you were hoping for, and the wetness between your legs increasing only confirms thqt.

You nod. What would be the point in denying anything? Right. There’s no point, and you know it. He know is too, it’s pretty obvious. He’s always been able to read you, and this is the same. Years passed by, but deep down you guys still know each other.

Seonghwa, at your admission and your being so yielding, can only swell with pride and satisfaction.

He approaches you, and the world spins wildly: he grabs you by the hair, pulls you towards the desk, and forces you to bend over it, pushing your head against the polished and intensely scented mahogany of his desk.

You have your ass up, covered only by your panties.

You hear Seonghwa swear and soon one of his hands clashes with the sensitive skin of your butt, and he gives you a strong spank.

You flinch, gasp, and squirm, and he takes it as encouragement to hit you again: two, three, four times.

Now the mark of his hand lies on your skin, and you feel completely possessed and owned by Seonghwa.

"You have no idea how many times I've thought about you over the years. How many times I've thought about hurting you, having you all to myself even just once," Seonghwa confesses, running his hands over your ass, caressing you heavily.

His words are intoxicating.

"I've thought about you too, I swear, Seonghwa. Sir. I shouldn't have, but I did. I-I never forgot about you," you whisper, instinctively moving your hips upwards, trying to keep his hands on you for as long as possible.

You're not lying, you really mean what you said. Seonghwa has always been a constant in your life, it's undeniable. Your biggest regret and remorse. Your biggest and burning desire.

"Shut up, Y/n," Seonghwa commands, and you feel him grab the expensive fabric of your panties. A few seconds later, a loud noise fills the room.

He's torn them off, reduced them to shreds.

Pieces of fabric fall to your feet and your wet pussy is now completely exposed to him.

You feel drops of pleasure escaping from your trembling pussy and wetting your thighs, and you try to relieve the looming pressure by rubbing your legs together, but Seonghwa stops you.

He first grabs your hips, then your ass.

Seonghwa spreads your cheeks open, and you hear the air move as he bends down and spits on you.

He fucking spits on you.

His saliva runs down from your ass and to your pussy, adding wetness and naughtiness to the mixture.

He’s not satisfied, so he spits again, this time closer to your asshole.

You feel his breath against your sensitive skin and you find yourself holding your breath.

“This little hole, fuck, I wish I could just fuck it,” he groans, knowing damn well that he can’t just do that.

“N-Next time…” you utter out, wiggling your hips to try and meet his touch.

“You plan on coming here to get fucked more? Are you that greedy, you little whore?” he asks, laughing a little as he leans over you to just go and bite the skin of your ass, still covered by his handprint.

“S-so greedy, sir. I’ll come back whenever you want, do whatever you want,” you confess with a shaking voice, making Seonghwa laugh at you for how pathetic you are.

“You really have no shame. What a fucking slut,” he adds, before actually going silent.

What you feel next makes your eyes roll back and your hands reach out to the end of the desk to grab the wood and gain some support out of it.

His wet tongue is sliding against your little hole, wetting it more and more and making it pulse with the need to be filled up.

It’s a foreign feeling, to have someone eat your ass out like this, but Seonghwa seems like a starved man as he holds your cheeks open and dives in, licking and kissing and spitting and making your whole world turn upside down.

“Tastes good,” he groans, breath heavy and voice full of lust.

He pushes the tip of his tongue inside of your ass, and it makes you see stars.

Seonghwa fucks you with it, again and again, making slurping sounds.

One of his hands slides down and you feel one of his long, slender fingers rub against your wet hole.

“Just a finger, what do you say?” he murmurs, asking you for permission.

A permission you can’t help but grant him, nodding and murmuring a “please” that you’re not even sure was audible enough.

Seonghwa wastes no time, and soon his thumb makes its way into your tight and warm hole.

The sensation is unparalleled: you feel completely filled.

It doesn't matter that it's just a finger, you feel like you could explode at any moment.

Your legs tremble uncontrollably, and loud moans escape from your lips.

Seonghwa also moans, as he fucks your asshole with his finger.

You are already lost in pleasure, and he has not even touched your pussy yet.

It makes you feel really dirty, really perverse.

You feel like an actual whore begging to be filled.

“So tight,” he comments, and you feel this cock being shoved against the back of your thighs, as he smears precum over your skin and rubs against your legs to get some relief to his aching dick.

“Please, I want your cock, sir. Fuck my pussy, please, please, H-Hwa…” you beg, trying to get him to finally push his dick inside of you, and you feel already close to the verge of tears with how desperate you are.

“Here it comes,” he murmurs, finally giving the both of you what you crave the most.

With your thumb still inside you, you feel Seonghwa moving behind you.

He grabs his cock at the base and brings the tip closer to you, rubbing it against the sensitive and wet skin of your pussy, against your lips, right between your juicy folds, and pushing against your swollen and red clitoris.

A moan escapes your lips, and you find yourself spreading your legs even wider and begging him to put his cock inside you once and for all.

Finally, Seonghwa rubs the swollen tip of his cock against your wet hole, teasing you for just a few seconds before pushing it inside your pussy.

In one hard thrust, Seonghwa buries his thick cock inside you, making you scream in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

You feel so full, with both of your holes filled by him, his cock pressing inside you and stretching you completely.

You don't even notice a drop of saliva escaping from your lips and running down your chin, and if you could see yourself, you too would think of yourself as a whore.

“Fuck, this pussy is so good,” groans Seonghwa, and you make the effort of turning your head to try and look at him as he fills you up.

His head is thrown back, his neck exposed and lucid with sweat, and he seems completely lost in pleasure as he starts to rut inside of your pussy, fucking you and making you his.

For the first moments, Seonghwa's thrusts are not calculated, but dictated by his need to feel something warm enveloping his cock.

He enjoys the moment and ignores your helpless body, seeking only his pleasure.

Seonghwa's cock slides easily into your body, your wet pussy emitting dirty and exciting sounds as it is filled by his cock.

You tremble under his thrusts, and soon Seonghwa accelerates the movements of his hips, sinking into you with more force and precision.

He fucks you like he would fuck a whore, pushing all the way into your pussy and moving his finger into your ass.

He is not completely satisfied, though.

That's why you see him bend over you, pushing his cock even deeper into your pussy. Seonghwa brings two fingers of the hand that is free to your lips, and pushes them into your mouth, filling you even there.

"Christ," he gasps, starting to move the fingers he pushed into your mouth.

"Look at yourself, Y/n. You have all your holes filled by me, you're getting fucked in each of these tight little holes for money," Seonghwa grunts, and as you feel the saliva escaping from your lips, you see his eyes getting darker, more intense.

He moans and gasps, fucking you with all the strength and passion he has in his body, moving his fingers inside you and fucking you without the slightest mercy.

“Make it worth it, clench this pussy on me, huh?” he moans, despite the fact that your pussy already is clenching and hugging his cock as tightly as humanly possible.

You feel every movement of his inside you. Your skin and his rubbing together, his cock caressing the most intimate and deepest parts of you, sending electric shocks to run through every inch of your body and his as well.

Seonghwa's legs tremble as he sinks into you, fucking your mouth with his fingers and forcing you to choke on them, making you cough and then making your holes contract around him consequently. The rough and forceful way in which he is fucking you forces your body to move against the desk, and your wet and needy clitoris rubs against the cold and shiny wood of the desk.

Your nipples in contact with the mahogany stimulate you in the most delicious way possible, and you are completely intoxicated by the pleasure that grows rapidly inside you.

Your orgasm is getting closer and closer, and the feeling of being completely at the mercy of his desires only increases the strength of your pleasure.

Seonghwa towers over you, filling you everywhere, and could do anything to you: you wouldn't object, you wouldn't refuse anything. You would do anything for him. Anything he asked for and more.

Everything.

Not for the money, for him.

You don't tell him, that's for sure. But you think it.

Seonghwa is the only thing on your mind, not your rent to pay or your empty pockets.

Only: Seonghwa. Seonghwa. Seonghwa.

“Yeah, say my name. Fucking scream it,” he groans after he notices how you’re chanting his name in pleasure.

He takes his fingers off your mouth, giving you all the freedom to moan his name.

He forces you to scream, fucking you more harshly, a hand grabbing your hair and pulling at it enough for you to arise from the desk and for you spine to bend and for him to reach you and kiss your neck.

The position you’re in isn’t the most comfortable, but it sure as hell is exiting.

Seonghwa kisses your neck and bites at it, sucking the sensitive skin long enough to leave a plethora of marks behind.

Tomorrow you’ll be covered in his marks, you’ll look debouched and devastated and his.

His thumb leaves your ass empty and gaping, and now he’s completely focused on fucking your pretty aching pussy.

“Mine, Y/n. From now on you’re mine. You’ll get everything you want, but you have to be mine. My slut, my little cum dump,” he groans, licking all over your neck and sucking your ear lob in his mouth as he moans into your ear.

“Yes! Yes! M’yours, I-I’ll let you do anything, a-anything,” you moan, feeling floaty and lost, shaking and pushing your hips backwards to meet his trusts.

“I’m close, so close,” you confess, hiccuping between your helpless moans.

Seonghwa growls, and he fucks into you one last time before taking his cock out of your pussy and taking a step back.

You whine and complain, begging him to put it back in, to just do something.

“I want to see your face when you cum. I want to look into your eyes as I cream that pussy,” he explains, grabbing you by the hips and manhandling you in the position he prefers.

You’re sitting on the desk, you legs spread open and you pussy glistening with a mixture of your juices and his, all puffy and needy as your hole clenches around nothing.

“Ask me for it. Beg for my cock,” he says, voice mean as he touches his cock and teases his balls.

You have no dignity left at this point, so you don’t hesitate and do just as he asked you to.

“Please, sir, I need it. My pussy needs it, please, please,” you cry out, tears actually falling from your pretty eyes as you decide to tease him and tempt him a little bit.

One of your hands slides down your body, and you rub at one of your nipples, pinching it and feeling the most delicious pain ever.

With the other hand you go down to rub fervently at your needy little clit, circling around it and playing with the most sensitive part yourself.

“Please? Pretty please? Give it to me, Hwa, I beg you, sir, fuck me,” you continue, hand trailing down your pussy as you spread your own folds for him, exposing yourself like never before.

Wet juices fall from your pussy and are close to pool on his desk, and the sight of it is completely nasty.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch what’s mine,” he growls, getting closer to you and slapping your own hands away from your own body.

He directs his cock to your pleading pussy and pushes back in, spreading you open once again.

The new angle touches the right spots, reaches exactly where you were craving his cock to hit, and your eyes roll back in pleasure.

One of his hands reaches your throat, and he just keeps it there. An heavy weight against your neck, the promise of the most beautiful threat.

Seonghwa looks at you with something hidden in his eyes, and a wicked smile shows on your face.

“Choke me,” you dare him, biting at your lower lip as moans force themselves out of your mouth.

“You fucking brat,” moans Seonghwa, and the hand around your throat tightens, and tightens, and tightens.

The sensation of air and oxygen being denied to you is exhilarating, it's wonderful. Seonghwa even controls this: he decides whether to let you breathe or not. The thought makes your head spin and only increases the pleasure that floods your body.

Seonghwa's hand tightens again and again around your neck, choking you while looking into your eyes, dominating your body and soul.

“C-Close,” you whisper with the little air you have left, legs shaking around his waist as you sense pleasure building up inside your belly.

“Cum. Cum on my cock, you pathetic little thing,” orders Seonghwa and finally, he decides to grant you some mercy: his thumb comes down between your spread legs, and he starts to rub at you clit with precise movements, making you cry out loud and sound.

“Fuck! More, more, harder!” You shout, and Seonghwa lets go of his hold around your neck to grab your hip and use it as leverage to fuck more harshly inside your cunt.

His cock slides inside you with extreme ease, and his movements are precise and determined, and the tip of his cock rubs against all the right spots, making you breathless from how much it makes you enjoy.

Your hands reach his shoulders, and you cling to him tightly, scratching them from under his shirt and pushing it away, uncovering his back and scratching his skin.

Seonghwa doesn't seem to mind, on the contrary as your nails dig into his skin he only moans more, only rubs his fingers more decisively against your clitoris.

Seeing him so lost in pleasure and so deeply aroused is exactly the push you needed to finally succumb to your own orgasm.

The force with which you come is devastating: your legs tremble with strength, your breath breaks in your throat and the gasps and moans that escape from your lips are filled with desperation and pure pleasure. Your pussy contracts and tightens around Seonghwa's hard cock, as if wanting to keep it inside forever. Your clitoris pulses and sends electricity throughout your body.

Your turgid nipples brush against Seonghwa's chest as you hold him close and tight to you.

But what surprises both of you even more is another thing: the explosive way in which your orgasm overwhelmed you, making you squirt hot and juicy liquid around his cock, along both of your thighs. It seems to never end, and you surrender to pleasure as you squirt again and again against him, squeezing his cock and massaging it with your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re a slut, you’re a fucking slut, you just squirted all over my cock,” he groans, fucking into you as he forces you to give him even more of your precious juices.

His hand, the one that was rubbing at your clit, is covered in it, all moist and shiny and wet.

He brings it to his lips, sucks his own fingers and tastes you, your eyes spread open as you watch him savor your squirt.

“So fucking good,” he moans, before reaching down to get more of it, rubbing his hand against your folds and making you cry in overstimulation.

“Taste yourself,” he orders, before smearing your own juices against your lips, making you lick them clean as he watches.

“Want your cum. My pussy- it’s so empty, please, please, fill me up, cum in me,” you beg, tears falling from you eyes as your body begs for some mercy, begs to be filled, begs to be owned.

You lose control of it, and just slump on the desk, back hitting the wood and legs spreading even further.

“Take it, fuck! Take my cum, take it all in you pussy, here it fucking comes, ‘s all yours,” he moans, starting to slur his words as he shoves his dick inside of your abused cunt without a care in the world, the slide made even easier thanks to your powerful orgasm.

You feel it clearly: Seonghwa's hands run up your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them tightly.

The thrusts into your pussy become more erratic, stronger, more unrestrained.

Seonghwa's eyes become burning, shining with pleasure.

His moans become lower, deeper, strong enough to make your heart race, and you feel him bury himself one last time in your wet pussy, all the way in.

You feel him fill you with hot cum, squirting his thick and warm liquid inside you, flooding your wet and trembling pussy, abused to exhaustion.

You feel full to the brim, completely filled with his cum.

Seonghwa trembles, leans forward and kisses your breasts, while his hips make small instinctive movements, and he tries to push even deeper inside you, trying to bury his own cum deep in your pussy as far as humanly possible.

You gently pet his hair, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.

He just lays there for a while, keeping his cock inside of you to plug his cum inside your cunt.

“So full,” you whisper, clenching your pussy around him and enjoying the feeling of being so utterly used.

You both enjoy these moments of quietness, both still shaken and exhausted, taken by waves of pleasure and with labored breath.

You never would have imagined that this day would have gone this way, but honestly you wouldn't change a thing, and you don't care if this truly makes you a whore.

The only thing you care about is having had Seonghwa in such a way, being possessed by him like this and getting exactly what you needed, what you wanted.

After a few endless minutes, Seonghwa leaves a gentle bite on your breast: this time it doesn't hurt at all. It's somehow delicate.

You still flinch when he does it, and you hold back a smile. He pulls away from you, sits up.

You don't dare to imagine what condition you're in, but the way he looks at you makes you understand that it must be quite a sight.

Seonghwa pulls his cock out of your pussy, and you groan in dissent, feeling suddenly empty and sad, not wanting his cum to come out of your pussy. You want to keep it inside you as long as possible.

Seonghwa doesn't speak as he gets dressed.

He puts on his boxers and pants, buttons up his shirt. Adjusts his cuffs, his collar.

He does all this without ever taking his eyes off your body.

When you regain some strength, you decide to get off the desk, and you have to hold onto it to avoid falling.

Your panties are torn, so you can't put them back on.

You just slip on your skirt and blouse, and feel a drop of Seonghwa's cum escape from your pussy and run down your flushed thighs.

When you glance at him, you see him fumble with his wallet.

Realization of what’s going to happen sinks in, and you feel your cheeks turn a crimson red, and shame overtakes your body and overwhelms you completely.

“This should be enough for today,” Seonghwa says, his eyes looking dark and somewhat empty.

He hands you over a bunch of bills, and you spread your eyes as you take in the actual amount of money he just handed you.

That’s more than a month of your usual income.

You just made it in a couple of hours.

“I- T-thank you,” you mutter out, at a loss of words.

Seonghwa snickers, and watches cautiously as you take the money from him with shaking hands, face full of disbelief.

“Give your number to my secretary, Y/n. I’ll call you when your service will be needed. Be ready to come to work at any time, got it? Whenever I need a bucket to cum into, whenever I need to empty my balls, you drop everything and come to me to take my dick, no objections, no buts. We have a deal, right?”

Seonghwa's words are cruel, raw. But you didn't expect anything different, you knew well what you were getting into.

And you accepted to offer yourself to him with that awareness.

So, even though you feel humiliated, mocked, used, you nod. Grabbing your purse from the floor and carefully putting the banknotes inside, you notice that Seonghwa doesn't fail to observe your legs in the meantime.

"I'll be the best whore you've ever had," you confirm, forcing yourself to abandon lucidity and pride, clutching your purse as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Seonghwa sits at the desk, arranging the papers that you moved with your body and bends slightly to smell the scent of your fluids that have soaked into the wood.

"You can go. Oh, and don't clean your thighs. You have to go home with my cum dripping from your pussy, because if you still have a place to sleep at it's thanks to that cum, and I want anyone who looks at you enough to see it: do you understand?"

You swallow loudly, but you dare not argue.

You blink and try to maintain at least a hint of control, moving your legs slightly as you feel liquid coming out of your body.

"Yes, sir," you reply, bowing slightly in farewell.

Seonghwa seems to have returned to what he was when you first entered the room, but that doesn't surprise you at all.

However, you notice him grabbing the torn edges of your panties from the floor and tucking them into the pocket of his expensive pants.

He dismisses you immediately with a wave of his hand, and you gather your strength and leave the room: destroyed, exposed, without panties and with the purse full of money.

When you leave the room, there is only his secretary, the girl who escorted you to the door.

You have no doubt that she heard everything, but she smiles just as she did when you entered a few hours earlier.

You leave her your phone number, she writes it down in her agenda with precise professionalism.

You don't miss the quick glance she gives to your legs.

You don't cover yourself, you do as Seonghwa ordered you to.

You obey.

You smile, say goodbye to the secretary.

You enter the elevator, the doors close, and for the first time you look at yourself in the mirror.

You are not the same person as you were this morning.

You fix your makeup as quickly as possible and smile.

You leave.

It takes no more than two days for your phone to ring, and for it to be an unknown number.

Time to work.

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chillinglyadventurous · 2 months ago

Text

Obligations - Part 2

Requested by @slay-thou-pookie @crossxskies @babypeapoddd and @damalseer

Part 1 > Part 2

Tags: Hurt

Twelve fingers. Ten toes. You’d counted them yourself multiple times. Of course, Stan had missed the birth of his nephew. He was in jail. Your husband was in jail. You drove back to the Murder Hut on your own. Stan was going to get an earful when he got home. You knew he knew that.

Now? You sat in that ugly yellow armchair with your son in your arms. You’d been too exhausted to walk up the stairs to the nursery Stan had put together. You kissed the newborn’s head, “Welcome home, sixer. Sorry your dad’s not here.”

In the quiet, you stared down at the bundle in your arms, counting his fingers again. You wondered what Ford would say if he were there. You knew he’d be in love. A part of him, however, would feel bad his kid inherited those extra fingers. If you ever saw him again, you planned to tell him just how much these six little fingers gripping one of yours meant to you.

“Did I miss it?” Stan shouted as he stormed into the living room.

You glanced at the baby in your arms and then back to him. “Yeah,” you sighed, “I’d say you did.”

You could see the regret written on Stan’s face. You had gotten married so you wouldn’t have to go through this alone, but you still had. It killed you. Not only was Ford gone, but Stan was too.

Placing the infant in his arms, you gave him a soft kiss to the cheek, “Meet your son, Stanford.”

Stan was so enamored by the baby in his arms, he didn’t say a word when you called him Stanford. He hated when you did that, often the names spilled from your lips in a fight on accident. Before you could sit back down, Stan took a hold of you with one arm, pulling you close.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” he muttered into your hair. You had plans to yell at him, but, looking at him now, holding your son, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. “You did good, kid. He’s perfect.”

You took the baby’s hand in yours, holding it up for Stan to see, “Twelve fingers.”

“Ah,” Stan sighed, studying the baby’s hands, “just like his old man.” You could see the hurt in Stan’s eyes. You wondered why it was there. Apart of you knew the truth, but you didn’t want to see it. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. That’s what they say. Right? “What did you name him?”

“Stanley,” you said fondly as the baby is Stan’s are gave a little whine.

Stan looked at you, “You gonna tell em what you named the kid?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “How am I supposed to yell at him if I don’t know his name?”

“I named him Stanley, you idiot.”

Stan beamed before his lips met yours. At first, you didn’t know how to react, but you caressed his cheek anyways. This was just hormones. You knew that. Neither you nor Stan loved each other, at least, not like that. He knew you’d never love anyone else. You knew he couldn’t be tied down, a free spirit. Yet, you kissed him anyways, pretending he was Ford just for a moment.

As your son grew, Stan was a doting uncle father. He coached little league teams. He taught your son how to ride a bike. But that boy was all Stanford. He refused to take up boxing when Stan had suggested it. He preferred reading over sports, but you could never shake that ache in your chest when your little boy called him daddy.

This obligation Stan had inherited from his brother was trying more so on you than him. You knew Stan reveled in it. He loved being a dad and he was good at it. You credited natural instincts because you’d met Fillbrick Pines before. That man didn’t have a nurturing bone in his body. Stan? That man was so supportive.

Every report card was hung up on the refrigerator. Little Stanley’s artwork was framed and displayed in the Mystery Shack gift shop. Stan and Stanley even worked together to create attractions. It was sweet. They were sweet.

Before you knew it, your baby was a grown man. He looked so much like his father, six fingers an all. College graduations were plentiful. Your son was a graduate of West Coast Tech. Ford would have been so proud.

When Stan got that portal running again, you had cried. You were a bundle of emotions. What would Ford think? What would your son think? How would you break this news? How could you?

As soon as Ford came through that portal, everything changed. You ran into his arms despite the confusion on your son’s face. Kissing him again erased thirty years of despair. He was back. It was bittersweet. He was back, but he missed so much.

After Dipper and Mabel were sent to bed, the hard part began. “Heh, well son,” Stan started, “I guess it’s finally time we tell you the truth.”

Ford was still fuming. Stan had married you. He didn’t the one thing Ford never thought he’d do, steal his girl. He couldn’t blame you. He had left you. Now, you were his wife, mother of his child. It made Ford sick and he blamed himself. Had he not built that portal, you would be his wife. Your son would be his.

“I’m actually your uncle.”

“What?” Ford and your son questioned in unison.

You simply nodded, “I found out about 2 months after you left.” The look on Ford’s face was full of self-loathing. “I thought it was just stress. I didn’t think-“

Ford’s attention turned back to his son who had a haze of distrust clouding his mid. “You and Stan aren’t-“

“Nope,” Stan shook his head. “Technically, poindexter, you’re married to [Y/N].”

After a few weeks, after Weirdmegeddon, your son and his father grew closer, but Stan was always near by. You wondered how you had gotten so lucky, how your son had gotten so lucky. Without Stan, you couldn’t have done this on your own. Without Stan, you wouldn’t be packing him, your husband, and your son up for a year-long sailing trip.

“That’s everything,” you grinned, handing the last bag over to Stanley. You kissed his cheek, so proud of the man he had become. “Dong let your dad and Stan fight too much, please.”

Your boy hugged you tight, “I won’t, Ma.”

Ford kissed you softly. His hand clapped on his son’s back. “I won’t let anything happen to him. I promise.”

“[Y/N],” Stan called from the boat’s bow, “Did you pack the sunscreen? You know Stanley gets all lobstery in the sun.” Ever the worried dad.

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #ford pines #stanford pines #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanley pines #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader #stan pines #chillinglyadventurousfics

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hsunrry · 2 months ago

Text

argument // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,1k

warnings: smut18+, praise, dirty talking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, angst

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

it was the first time you argued with him that bad you didn’t spoke to each other. for the whole week he was sleeping on the couch, when you were crying every night in the bed, because you hated it. on the other hand, he wasn’t sleeping well not because the couch was really, i mean really uncomfortable, but because he was thinking about it all the time. finally, after all this time he decided he had enough with this whole situation and when you were standing in the kitchen he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your neck on the side. you decided to not react at all. he sighed and buried his face into your neck, playing with the hem of your t-shirt. “babe…”

“wow, so my husband actually still have voice.” you said sarcastically. he lifted his head from your neck, placing his forehead on your shoulder instead.

“i know i’ve been a dick. i get it, you haven’t said a single word to me for a week, but i can’t keep sleeping on the couch anymore… i’m sorry.” he mumbled.

“you’re apologising just because your back hurts from sleeping there?” you scoffed. he shuts his eyes closed and groaned in annoyance.

“no, i’m apologising, because i was wrong and i feel bad. i was the one who started it, but i was wrong.” he straightened up. you only nodded quietly. he wrapped his arms around you tighter and he started kissing your neck to get your attention. “please, i miss you…”

“you hurt me, you know that?” you gripped counter slightly. his face was still against your neck.

“i didn’t really mean what i said, baby.” he mumbled against your skin. “i was being a jerk, i know. i shouldn’t have said those things to you. i’m so sorry.” you shook your head, holding back tears. he noticed that and felt his stomach sink. he hated fighting with you, especially when he was the one who started it in the first place. he gently turned you around, so you were facing him. he cupped your face with one of his hands, caressing it with his thumb. “don’t cry, i’m sorry, my love.”

“Harry, you can’t just do that.” you snapped. he furrowed his eyebrows, a bit taken aback by your reaction. he wasn’t really expecting you to react the way you did, but he also knew you were in your right to do so, considering how much he had messed up.

“do what?” he asked in low voice.

“just say ‘sorry’ after that.” you looked up at him. he let out a sigh, looking at the floor for few seconds.

“i know i can’t just say ‘sorry’ and expect you to forgive me instantly. that’s not how things work and i know it. especially when i was the one who was wrong. it was my mistake.” he paused for a second, looking back at you. “but i apologised, what else do you want me to do?! grovel for forgiveness?!”

“don’t yell at me!” your voice broke. his eyes widened at your broken voice, he felt like and idiot for snapping at you. “i just… i don’t know anymore.” he couldn’t stand it any longer. he took few steps closer, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands and crashing his lips on yours. after a week without it, you couldn’t help yourself and you melted into the kiss. he let out satisfied hum, deepening the kiss. his hands went down to squeeze your ass, sitting you on the kitchen counter. you gasped into the kiss at sensation of cold material. his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt, waiting few seconds for you to stop him if you don’t want to. when you weren’t protesting he took it off you as quickly as possible, leaving you only in panties. his boxers quickly disappeared as well, exposing his already hard dick. he pumped himself few times, still kissing your lips hungrily. after a week without each other, you both know it’s gonna be quick, but nothing to complain about it here at this point. he took off your panties, immediately pushing two fingers inside you. you moaned into the kiss, clenching at his digits.

“so wet for me, gonna squeeze me just right.” he gasped into your lips, pushing his fingers in and out to prepare you. he added third one, causing your loud moan. “taking my fingers so well, can’t wait to bury my cock inside your sweet tight pussy.” he mumbled, going with his kisses to your jaw and neck. when he was satisfied, he pulled out his fingers, licking them clean. “taste so good for me, as always.” he slowly pushed his dick inside, groaning. “i’m gonna embarrass myself by how quick i’m gonna come.” he started moving in and out at fast pace, all the way to the hilt.

“oh fuck.” you moaned, feeling him picking up the pace. his hands were on your hips and his lips found yours again. his movements were hard and rough, the tip of his dick was hitting your cervix with every thrust. “Harry!”

“shh, i know baby, you can take it.” he panted against your lips. “good job, i’m so proud of you my love.” your legs were wrapped around his hips for better support. “fucking god, i missed you so much, i love you.”

“i missed you too.” you gasped, gripping his shoulders tighter. “i love you, so much.” your head snapped back and your inner walls started tightening around him. his hand immediately went between your bodies to trace tight circles on your clit, making you go almost feral. “gonna fucking come.” you moaned.

“i’m aware of that baby, come around my dick, wanna feel you squeeze me just like i love it.” he groaned, feeling on the edge as well. you came just few thrusts later, with his name on your lips. he fucked you through your orgasm, before finally stilling, buried deep inside you and filling you up. you both were panting, not really feeling like moving right now. his hand cupped your cheek, kissing you softly. “i love you and i’m sorry. really, my darling. i can’t imagine another night without you by my side.”

“me neither.” you said against his lips. “but it was the last time, understood?” he nodded, pressing another loving kiss on your lips.

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star-wrote · 6 months ago

Text

Vibe

ao3 link

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Pre-Saviors Alexandria Era

Summary: Daryl Dixon went on a run to scavenge for supplies, but came back with vibrators instead.

Warnings: typical TWD violence, threats, guns, vibrators, smut, oral(fem!receiving), slightly comedic, idiots in love, fluffy

Word Count: 1450

18+

Daryl was sat against the car, smoking a cigarette. It had been almost three days of scavenging for supplies and food for Alexandria when he and Rick wandered upon an old warehouse.

The warehouse was surprisingly clear of walkers. They had scouted the front of the building and saw stacks of full boxes through the dark windows. It was like finding an oasis after two and a half days of finding nothing but empty cans. Deciding that luck was on their side, they crept in through the front door.

What they weren’t expecting to see on the other side of that warehouse door was a camp of men. Roughly 15 men shot up from where they were sleeping and brought their guns up to aim at Rick and Daryl.

“Think you can just creep in here while we’re sleeping? You trying to take what’s ours?” One of the men yelled as he stepped forward. The leader, Daryl assumed.

Rick raised his hands up by his head. “We didn’t know this place was occupied. We can leave.”

The man scoffed. “Why, so you can bring back more people to wipe us out? How do you think we have all of this stuff? It’s because we protect it. So we’re gonna kill you, take your stuff, and then burn your bodies.”

Daryl feels a man press a gun into his side. “Rick.”

“Yeah, I know.” Rick sighs, exasperated. “Go.”

Daryl twists the gun out of the man’s hands and knocks him out with it. He tosses the gun to Rick who starts going on a lecture about how the men should’ve just listened to them.

Gunfire from both Rick and the men causes Daryl to grab the biggest box that he could carry by himself, and run outside to where their car was haphazardly parked. He tossed the box into the back as Rick ran out of the building and jumped into the driver’s seat.

As Rick peeled out onto the road back to Alexandria, Daryl leaned over his seat to open the box.

“Hope we got somethin’ that was worth all of that.” Daryl said as he pulled the last flap of the box open.

Rick watched in the rearview mirror as Daryl’s face dropped. “What is it?”

Daryl picked up one of the pink toys and tossed it at Rick.

“S’a bunch of fuckin’ vibrators.”

When Daryl got home, Alexandria was thankfully quiet. He didn’t want to have to deal with people asking what they brought back from the run. Maybe he would sleep in tomorrow and let Rick deal with it in the morning.

However, it was you who was at the gate. You who he knows won’t stop asking until you get an answer.

After Rick parked the car and you closed the gate, you ran up to hug Daryl.

“I missed you so much, three days was too long.” You said as you kissed him.

He smiled, glad to feel some of the guilt for not finding anything on the run roll off his shoulders.

You watched Rick grab a lone box out of the back of the car. “Oh, what did you guys find?”

Daryl grunted and took the box from Rick. “What do I even do with these, man?”

Rick chuckled and opened the box. “I’m gonna take one for Michonne, I guess. Just give the rest to Olivia for her to take inventory like usual.” He grabbed one of the toys from the box.

Your eyes widened as you saw what the haul from their trip was. You waited until Rick walked away before whispering at Daryl excitedly. “You guys got vibrators for the town?”

“Was an accident. Ran into some guys in a warehouse. Took one of the boxes as they were shootin’ at us. ‘Course it was filled with damn vibrators.”

You let out a giggle at his grumpiness. “I think this is the best haul you’ve ever brought home, I don’t know why you’re so upset!” You grabbed one from the box and started walking with him to the pantry.

“Comes with batteries. We could take all of those and use ‘em.” Daryl said.

You frown. “Or we could bring pleasure to all of the women of Alexandria.”

Daryl stops walking and looks at you. “Thought I gave you enough pleasure. You were even sayin’ it was too much that night before I left.”

You blush as you think back to the night that Daryl overstimulated you before he left on his run. “Yeah you do. But not everyone has a Daryl Dixon. Plus we could try it together. Might be fun?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Fine. We’re okay on batteries right now anyway.” He says as he continues walking to the pantry.

You grin to yourself as you clutch your new toy to your chest. “Yay! We don’t even have to refill the batteries. We can just use it until they die and then throw it away.”

“Oh my- Daryl.”

The walk to the house from the pantry had Daryl thinking about getting you home and getting you off. You had barely closed the door when he started stripping your clothes off.

You giggled as he kissed your neck. “I thought we’d at least sleep after your run before jumping in!”

“Nah, need to make you feel good.” He grunted and picked you up over his shoulder.

You squealed and held on tight to your vibrator as he started walking to your shared bedroom. The packaging was torn open in a hurry while you were still upside down on Daryl’s shoulder. You dropped the box as you yanked the toy out.

Daryl smacked your ass to signal that he was going to toss you onto the bed. You land on the fluffy blankets and pillows and laugh as Daryl finishes taking your clothes off. “You’re so eager, I thought you weren’t sure about bringing toys into the bedroom.”

He smirks down at you. You were still holding onto the bright pink vibrator with a look of excitement in your eyes. “You said ya wanted to try. So we’re trying.”

He grabs the toy from your hand and presses the button to turn it on. Your eyes light up as it immediately starts buzzing in your lover’s hand.

“How do ya want me to do this, baby?” He whispers as he trails the fluttering toy up your thigh.

You close your eyes and sigh into the feeling. “I don’t care, just need it somehow, Daryl.”

“Ya want me to eat ya out? Put this thing on yer clit?”

You nod your head at the thought. You also notice his accent getting thicker as he gets more aroused; a trait that you’ve come to admire about him.

“Okay, ‘ve got ya, honey.”

Daryl lays down on his stomach between your thighs and brings your legs up to rest on his shoulders. He licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you gasp at the contact. Gently, he presses the toy onto your puffy clit. He looks up at you, assessing the situation. He smirks when he sees your head thrown back and your fingers clutching the blanket underneath you.

“That feel good, baby?”

“Would feel even better if you used your m-mouth.” You gasped out.

Daryl kissed your inner thigh. “Say please.”

You pouted at him. “Please, Dar?”

Daryl kissed just to the side of your hole, muttered something about you being a “princess” and dove in.

You moaned and tossed around in the bed. To an outside perspective, it would look like some type of weird exorcism. But it was just Daryl making you feel so good. Daryl and that “damn vibrator.”

His tongue continued to lap up the wetness that you were producing for him. Because it was always for him. He moaned into your soaked hole and tongue-fucked you into oblivion.

The continuous buzz of the vibrator kept lifting you up and up until you were finally at your peak. Daryl was mumbling praises that could barely reach your ears as you shook underneath him. Your thighs tightened around his head, but he didn’t stop until your body relaxed under his tongue and your moans turned into small whines.

Your breathing was labored and there was a ringing in your ears that sounded like the song of heaven as you lay there, recovering from the insanely intense orgasm that Daryl had just given you.

Daryl. You pulled yourself up onto your elbows and looked down at your man. He was licking the vibrator.

You both locked eyes as he pulled it away from his mouth. Smiling at each other, you said in unison;

“We’re keeping it.”

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gahyunszn · 5 months ago

Note

can you write ningningxfemreader where ningning got jealous because y/n is oblivious 🥺

idiot

genre : fluff

warning(s) : none

note : this is soooo rushed and just poorly written bc i actually had no idea what to write???

you’ve always been oblivious and you’ve been told that many, MANY times, but you can’t help but automatically think that everyone’s just being nice to you!!

it was a nice and sunny day, but it was quite hot, maybe agreeing to spending a majority of the day outside with the girls wasn’t the best idea.

you groaned as you laid out a blanket on the grass in a somewhat shaded area in the park. karina followed behind you with the basket filled with snacks, then giselle with a drink cooler, winter with some ice cream bars that you had all bought before arriving to the park, and ningning who was basically in charge of holding the different cameras brought along for aesthetic memory making.

everyone set their things down before sitting next to you on the blanket, watching as you dramatically ranted about the hot weather.

“not our fault you decided to agree to this outing.” karina said, tapping winter on the arm to hand over her ice cream bar.

“but it technically is your fault,” you retorted, sitting up just to dramatically drape yourself over karina. “you made it seem more fun than it actually is.”

you pouted, gaining ningnings attention because she just found it cute how dramatic you got when it came to hot weather. it’s almost as if you were gonna melt at any second due to the heat.

ningning grabbed one of the disposable cameras and snapped a picture of you, the flash bringing you out of your dramatic state and putting you into a playful one.

“hey, we need to use those films sparingly! do you know how much film costs.” bringing yourself closer to ningning, your foreheads practically touching.

“i’m aware, but i needed to capture that cute moment.” ningning smugly smiled, putting the disposable down, watching as everyone’s face turned into a more disgusted one.

“get a room you two.” giselle said, making a fake gagging noise which earned a laugh from winter. ningnings face turned a slight pink while you sat on your heels, trying your best to also not laugh along with winter.

time passed and you all were making good memories, everyone had taken at least a couple pictures with the different cameras, making sure to not miss a single moment you all shared.

“aw man, we finished all our snacks, maybe we should go back home.” winter said, sighing as she looking into the basket in search of any hidden snacks.

“maybe, but at least there’s air conditioning inside!” you said enthusiastically, getting up from your spot on the blanket and helping everyone else up. you all cleaned up before folding the blanket up and taking a path that lead to the exit of the park, but as you all were walking, someone had come up to you to start up some light conversation.

ningning turned around when she didn’t feel you clinging to her arm anymore and when she saw two men talking to you, she felt anger bubble up inside of her.

“you guys go ahead, i’ll meet you guys back at home.” ningning quickly said before speed walking to you.

“so we were just wondering if we could get your number? we saw you from across-” one of the dudes said before he was cut off by ningning who clinged to your arm, giving them both a stare they’ll never forget.

“sorry to interrupt, but we have things we need to do today.” she said before dragging you away from the two men. you waved goodbye before looking at ningning as you two walked, the angry look on her face was enough to send chills down your spine.

why did she seem so mad?

once you two reached the exit of the park, you stopped which made ningning stop with you.

“what was that all about?” you asked, noticing how ningnings expression softened slightly.

“they were so clearly trying to get your number so they could take you on a date or something, how did you not catch that.” ningning said, her tone filled with jealousy.

“nuh uh, they probably just wanted to be friends, i don’t see why it concerns you anyways.” you responded, crossing your arms and looking past ningnings shoulder to see if you could at least spot one of the dudes who stopped you, but no luck.

ningning bit her lip, deciding on if she should be straight up or lie. if she confessed right now then what would your reaction be? would it ruin things? time to play russian roulette i guess…

“it concerns me because i like you and im tired of you being so oblivious when it comes to people flirting with you.” she blurted out, watching as your eyes instantly locked with hers in shock.

“you like me?” you asked, confused.

“yes you idiot, i’ve liked you for longer than i can think of but you’ve always been so oblivious when i even attempted at flirting with you.” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose while closing her eyes, she knew you were oblivious but she didn’t think it was that extreme.

it was silent for a moment before you pulled ningnings hand away from her face, holding it as you gently kissed her cheek.

“i like you too.” you smiled.

“ew now you two really need to get a room!” giselle shouted from across the exit.

#aespa #ningning #aespa reaction #aespa imagine #aespa scenario #ningning reaction #ningning imagine #ningning scenario #aespa x reader #ningning x reader #aespa fluff #ningning fluff #aespa reactions #aespa imagines #aespa scenarios

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slaybestieslay946 · 10 months ago

Note

luke castellan x fem!reader in the future as parents 🥺

omg i love this idea sm!

word count: 700

pairing: Luke Castellan x reader

warnings: None!

MASTERLIST

-Perfect

Saturday mornings in the Castellan household were hectic to say the least. But that wasn’t surprising, considering the fact you had a house of two kids, a dog, and an adorably idiotic husband.

And while you usually loved it, sometimes it could be pretty exhausting.

“Babe?” You called out, striding through the house, a pram in one hand and a packed lunch in the other.

“Yeah, in here honey!” Luke replied from the living room, laughing slightly at something.

You walked in to see him sat on the couch, bouncing your baby daughter on his knee while the girl laughed with glee.

Normally, you’d sit down beside him to coo at your daughter and all her little facial expressions. But this morning you had things to attend to, such as laundry, taking your son to soccer practice, grocery shopping. You didn’t have time for distractions.

“Did you wake up James this morning?”

“I thought you were doing it, and I was handling Violet?” He replied, perplexed.

“No,” You sighed, exasperated. “That was last week. You’re on wake up duty, remember?”

It was then that it appeared to click in his head, and he quickly returned the girl back to her cot, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before rushing out the room, calling out frantic apologies to you on the way.

You’d been late to James’ soccer practice because of it, and he’s missed out on collecting his player of the match award. He’d been understandably upset, and it had caused some tension in the house for the past week.

You weren’t angry with Luke per se. Irritated was probably more accurate. He’d apologised profusely to both you and James, and the boy had gotten over it when his dad took him out for pancakes the next day.

As for you, he hadn’t yet delivered his grand gesture to atone, so you were still waiting on that. One thing you did love about your husband, is that he always made it up to you, no matter what mistake he made.

And make it up, he did.

The next Saturday you woke up without the usual ring of your alarm, and instead you found yourself waking naturally out of a lazy dream. The morning sun cast its rays over your face, warming you slightly as you smiled, rolling over to face your husband. Except he wasn’t there.

Immediately you were confused, sitting up in bed and glancing at the clock. It was 10 o’clock. You were so late.

You cursed quietly, practically leaping out of bed and pulling on the nearest pair of trousers you could find.

You were in such a frantic state that you didn’t even notice Luke entering the room until he called out to you.

“Honey, please, get back into bed.”

“What! We’re late! Oh god, James is gonna be so upset, he’s missed all of soccer!” You exclaimed, turning to face him, only to see him holding a tray full of food.

“What’s that?”

“Breakfast. Please, just get back in bed, I’ll explain.” He said, a sheepish smile on his face as he herded you back into bed.

You followed, willing to hear him out, especially when he was offering you pastries and coffee.

“Is everything-?”

“It’s all sorted,” He said, cutting you off, “I took James to soccer, and then he’s going to Leon’s for a playdate. I’m really sorry for last week, you let me get away with so much, and you work so hard, so I thought I’d let you have a lie in, and bring you breakfast.”

You were speechless, staring directly into his chocolate brown eyes.

“Are you happy? Sorry for not telling you, I wanted it to be a nice surprise.”

Then you snapped out of your daze, grabbing his face and kissing him hard, before pulling back to giggle at his blushing face. Sometimes he was still like the awkward teen you had met all those years ago.

“It was a great surprise. I really appreciate it.”

You grabbed a croissant from the tray, and quickly began to sate you hunger, grinning the whole time as you tried to figure how you managed to get so lucky to call this man your husband, the father of your children.

It really was perfect.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #fanfic #writing #x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #domestic fluff #fluff

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nomazee · 1 year ago

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Silly little thing I thought of

Like like imagine dazai and the reader have been friends for years like the reader knew him since his 15 goofer era... and they got used to eachother sm they usually sleep in eachothers beds n stuff :3

LIKE SOMETHING IS GOING ON BUT THEY STILL HAVE THE FRIENDSHIP LABEL.. 🐺🤞

this concept stuck itself in my head like a tapeworm and it has not escaped me for days IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED i wrote SO MUCH for this omfg i had so much fun writing this thank u for this wonderful idea pairing: dazai x gn reader word count: 2.5k content: fluff, vignette-style writing, friends-to-lovers unspoken label type of thing, soft dazai, domestic fluff without the marriage bit, banter, idiots in love im taking requests!

===

Dazai’s toes are still as frigid at night as they were seven years ago. You, of all people, would be the best person to measure this—not in a weird way, but you two have shared a bed at least once a week since your teenage years. You know all of Dazai’s annoying sleeping habits, including his ones of sleeping without socks and digging his feet into your shins for warmth.

Annoying fucker. You sigh, batting his arm away from its loose hold around your waist. “Get your toes off of me,” you croak out, half-conscious and mind still addled with the remains of your once-deep sleep.

“What toes,” Dazai mutters back, smacking your intervening hand away and returning his arm to its rightful place around you. “I don’t have toes. I got rid of them after puberty, ‘member?”

“I’m gonna kill you.” You won’t, not really, and the threats have lost their edge after all these years, but it’s fun to throw at him when he annoys you like this. “I know all your weaknesses, Osamu. One wrong move and you’ll be missing more than just your toes.”

“I’m cold, dear. Would you really let me freeze like this? So mean.”

You try not to choke up at the nickname. He’s been a fan of those recently, at least in the last year. You think it has something to do with your new places at the Agency. New workplace, new life, and new nicknames, apparently. If you overthink it you might puke on him and fall back asleep.

“Not cruel. We have money now, you know. Go buy yourself socks. Wool, or something. Stupid ass cold ass toes.”

He goes quiet. Even in all these years of knowing him, half-living with him, you can’t tell if it’s a normal lull in the conversation or a calculated pause. It doesn’t unnerve you as much as it used to, but there’s still a cold chill at the nape of your neck that springs up at times like these.

“Why would I do that when I have you?”

Dazai has also been a fan of this recently—strange uncharacteristic moments of tenderness. He peels himself back for you and bares himself raw. The implications make you nauseous. Swathed in the darkness of the night, he can’t see your fingers twitch from where they lay next to your head, away from his sight; or the conflicted expression that crosses your face.

Easing your breath out into a steady, deep rhythm, you pretend to be asleep. It’s not like he can’t tell, but the message is there. Let’s not talk about this until the morning. Let’s just sleep for the night. Let’s keep what we have and not change it for the worse.

At age eighteen, shaken with the death of his friend and haunted by blood stains on his fingers, Dazai defects from the mafia.

He doesn’t take you with him—at least, he doesn’t mean to. He expects to leave quietly, or as quietly as blowing up Chuuya’s car can be. He doesn’t expect you to drag yourself along kicking and screaming.

Dazai doesn’t remember much about specifics, but he knows that one day he was alone in his underground apartment and the next day you were there. The kitchen smelled like melted marshmallows and rice krispies and his dingy counter was covered in sprinkles.

“Hi, Dazai,” you’d greeted conversationally. “I’m making your favorite.”

He doesn’t even like rice krispie treats. Hates them, actually.

In truth, your presence is less the result of you “kicking and screaming” and more like an after-effect of your own quiet stubbornness. Your kicking-and-screaming was done in the passive aggressive way that you cleaned his dishes and made his bed and left big trays of rice krispie treats in his fridge for the next week.

Neither of you talked about Chuuya. It was better for you that way.

On the first night, Dazai remembers you holding him from behind, forehead pressed into the stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder. He’s sensitive there despite being wrapped in his stupid scratchy bandaids. His memories for the rest of the night are overrun by a feeling of want, an itch to feel your fingers on his bare skin, a craving for your hand on his stomach to slide beneath the hem of his shirt and press into the tender skin of his abdomen and keep him warm.

===

“Leave me alone,” you grumble from behind the sleeve of your jacket. “I’m napping.”

“It’s not napping if you’re still awake.”

“I wouldn’t be awake if it wasn’t for your annoying ass.” Rotating your body to face the ceiling from your place on the Agency’s couch, you sigh when your view is blocked by Dazai’s ugly stupid face. He’s smiling in that conniving way that he does when he’s about to do something super annoying. Another sigh escapes you when he leans down close enough for the overgrown ends of his hair to brush against your nose. The puff of air from your verbal discontent makes the strands sway slightly. You try not to think about how mesmerizing he looks when he’s this close, with the light from the window casting a golden sheen on the crown of his head.

Since when did you get this sappy? Must be Dazai rubbing off on you, obviously.

“So tired already! It’s barely noon.”

“You came into work an hour ago. I’ve been here since eight. Try being responsible for a change, might exhaust you just as much.”

“Hmm.” He tilts his head, big stupid shiny brown eyes blinking down at you like he’s observing a specimen. “I think I’m more than responsible enough.”

“Sure,” you relent, turning back around to shove your face into the corner of the couch and block out the incoming light. It’s the truth—you’re exhausted. A persistent weariness permeates your bones from how much you’ve been working these last few weeks. It’s not like it’s anyone’s fault in particular, not even Dazai’s despite how much he slacks on paperwork. But looming threats from enemy organizations hang over everyone’s heads and there’s no shortage of uncertainty in the Agency. It’s been mission after mission for you, and you’re taking every break you can get.

Rustling sounds from above you, but you pay it no mind, busying yourself with nestling all of your body into the crevices of the couch and hopefully turning into a piece of furniture yourself. It might be a more peaceful life, really. The calm is short-lived when you feel fingers tap along your cheek—not in a rousing gesture, but something along the lines of placating.

Dazai squeezes a hand beneath your head and cups the side of your face pressed against the couch, tilting it closer to him before you feel a warm press of lips against your cheek. He lingers. He always does. You can feel the gentle inhales and exhales breeze against your face before he breaks his kiss away. Your cheek is warm for more reasons than one.

“Take care of yourself,” and oh, god, you’ll never get used to this, never get used to how tender and soft he’s become with you, never get used to how this Agency has fostered something like kindness in both of you. Your stomach stirs with something unnamed and if you were braver, you’d blink your eyes open and reach up and grab the sides of his face and pull him down to you.

But you’re not brave, and there’s people still behind you in the office, and you wonder what led Dazai to be soft enough to kiss your face like that in front of everyone. You’re sure they’re watching you both. The Agency is full of gossips, whether they admit it or not.

===

“Dazai,” Ango Sakaguchi grits out from behind the crackling reception of a burner phone. “They were not a part of the plan.”

“You think I don’t know that, Ango?” Dazai replies, tone more playful than aggressive. “I know they’re not a part of the plan. They knew they weren’t part of the plan, too. But it’s too late to do anything about it. It’s just a minor change.”

“A minor change?” Ango’s voice is strained with stress, no doubt pulling out strands of his hair as they speak. “I have to deal with not one, but now two members of the mafia defecting. Do you know how much work this was to begin with?”

The thing is—of course Dazai knows. He knows everything. The minute he found you in his kitchen, his stomach dropped with the uncertainty of the future. Going underground with another person was nothing short of a burden, at least on paper. But, he couldn't find it in himself to think of you like that. Like a burden.

“We’ll figure it out, Ango. If you don’t, then we will.”

A gritty sigh sounds from the other side of the phone call. “I’m putting a lot of faith in you, Dazai. Don’t screw this up.”

===

“Made you lunch. Since, obviously, you’re not gonna do that for yourself any time soon.”

A closed plastic container is thrown on the counter in front of Dazai. He looks at it, then up at you, eyebrow raised as if he doesn’t have a clue what this could be about. He’s not that stupid, though. You of all people would know that.

“How nice of you! Too bad I’m not hungry.” His lip juts out in a poor imitation of a pout, and he looks ugly with it. So ugly. Ugly enough to make you feel the need to kiss him all over and then slap him. An incredulous huff escapes you.

“I don’t care if you’re hungry. Eat. It has crab in it, see, your favorite.”

“I thought my favorite was rice krispies?”

You freeze. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might remember that, after all this time. You don’t dwell, because that’s the worst thing to do with Osamu Dazai—dwell.

“Don’t act stupid. Just eat it. Even if it’s not the whole thing, at least some of it. It would do you some good.” Getting serious with Dazai is one of the most awkward, unbearable things you could ever do. He has a way of making you feel stupid for worrying about him, with all his roundabout jokes and skills of evasion built up over years. You’ve found that being straightforward is the best way to avoid all those blank moments of silence.

His fingers curl around the plastic lid and pop it open. The container is still warm, having cooked all its contents just half an hour before showing up at Dazai’s apartment with conviction in your eyes. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll have some.”

You bring out a duplicate container with a serving for you, and treat yourself to a juice box from his fridge. You try not to launch into a lecture at the sight of his barren pantry—that’s best done by Kunikida. The both of you eat in silence, sitting across from each other at Dazai’s dusty kitchen island.

He only gets through a few bites before pushing the container away and complaining about how full he is. You know it’s not the truth, but it’s the mixed-up signals that his body sends him. It’s not that he’s full, but his persistent lack of appetite has caused a lot of troubles for him in the past and you don’t doubt that it’ll keep causing troubles in the future, too.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you tell him, dragging him up from his chair despite his whining protests. “I won’t make you shower, but you should probably do that tomorrow, ‘cause your hair’s about to get all greasy and disgusting.”

“So crude.”

“I do my best.”

You let him change on his own, but not before picking out a nice soft set of matching pajamas from deep inside his closet. You grumble a little in annoyance. The set was a birthday gift you got for him a year ago and that asshole pushed it to the back of his wardrobe and never touched it again. What a brat. You throw a pair of fuzzy socks at him to boot.

Once he’s changed into proper sleep clothes, you can tell that the exhaustion is starting to hit him. He sways a little on his feet and his blinks last for a little too long, as if he’s chasing sleep every time his eyes shut. With another begrudging sigh, you set him down on the floor of the bathroom and dollop his toothbrush with fruity kid’s toothpaste—because of course that’s the only toothpaste he owns—and brush his teeth for him.

Dazai dozes off in the middle of it, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up in the most annoying way possible. You try really, really hard to not think about how soft you’ve gotten. You’re an ex-mafia member, past coated with dark stains and entrails and death, all of those dark things. Your blood is just as black as Dazai’s, if not more. And yet, being a part of this stupid Detective Agency with this stupid man has melted you down into something parallel to good.

Don’t dwell. It’ll do you no good.

You use a gentle grip with the toothbrush, ensuring that his delicate gums don’t tear with the force of the bristles. A warm feeling stirs in your chest. It feels like you’ve proven something, like you’ve proven to the world that your coal-stained hands can be gentle, too. You can kill and you can nurture. You tap Dazai awake with a little more care, now.

“Rinse your mouth,” you tell him in a whisper. “Then you can sleep.” And after a pause, you add, “I promise,” because now you’re in the business of making promises to people.

Dazai rinses his mouth, and you wipe off the remaining droplets of water from his face with a paper towel that you leave on the counter for your future self to throw out. You lace your fingers with his as you walk to his bed. Not that he needs any guiding. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just a little extra insurance, you think.

“Stay with me,” he mumbles out the minute you lay him down on the bed. It’s a sentence, and not a question, because he’d rather die than ask you something so vulnerable. He’s doing it again—peeling himself back and baring himself raw for you. Your head swims and your vision blurs with either a migraine or with tears, you can’t tell. But your lips quirk up into a stupid smile and he sees it despite his half-lidded eyes, and he smiles back like the stupid dope that he is.

“Yeah, of course. I’m right here, Osamu. Go to sleep.”

And he does. Of course, not before he feels you cup the opposite side of his face and plant a warm, lingering kiss on the swell of his cheek just as he did for you weeks before. The faint laugh that he lets out before he falls asleep is enough to tell you that he’ll be making fun of you for it in the morning. For now, though, he’s soft and pliant and warm between your hands, and you sleep.

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fic #bungo stray dogs fic #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x you #dazai osamu #i forgof how to tag hejkp me #openeing up comissions soon... maybne....#this was so fun to write like it lived in my brain for a week and i wrote a little bit every day #i had DAYDREAMS ABOUT THIS CONCEPT BRO LIKE

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 5 months ago

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New beginnings | joel miller x f!reader, 7.8k

Summary: What happens when you run into that handsome stranger from the bar at Trish’s house? Where do the two of you stand two years after this unexpected encounter?

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some back and forth on the timeline, mutual pinning, light angst, slow-burn, a smidgen of fluff, cursing, Joel being kind of a prick, Joel being an idiot, insecurities, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Part two of the I don’t even know your name series and yes, I know it’s been a long time coming, sorry about that! I’m confident (well, aren’t you a bold one?) that the third part will be coming much, much sooner! Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all!

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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BEFORE

You know that warmth. You remember it. His warmth. His large, calloused hand completely encircles yours as you formally introduce yourselves. If his reflexes weren’t fast enough, you’d still be staring at him, unable to believe he’s standing right before you.

The storm of all those memories overwhelmed you and Joel realized that, unlike the rest of your company who continued to stand behind your back in blissful ignorance. Your mind had become detached from your body, which seemed to make decisions of its own; you were ready to do anything at this moment.

If he chose to show his hand and acknowledge you, you would follow his lead. If -by some miracle- he chose to lean in and kiss you, you would reciprocate. If he chose to pretend he didn’t know you, you would put up with it. You would do anything to be good for him, no common sense left in your dazed mind. But his face is serious and his warm, dry hand is firmly on yours, squeezing it lightly, in a silent form of communication, I know; it’s ok; get a grip; what the fuck. He doesn’t let go of your hand, acting as an anchor, until you decide you feel grounded enough to handle the situation. It’s at that moment that you can tell he’s waitin’ for you to be in control of the narrative. Whatever you say, goes.

You take a deep breath and tell him your name, as you finally release your hand from his and move aside to let him enter the house. The muscles between his eyebrows and around his mouth twitch imperceptibly, almost in disappointment, you think. His scent as he passes by you, hits your nostrils and your memories flood back into your mind, even stronger than before. Your body tenses and you feel your nipples tighten against the fabric of your bra. You begin to wonder how you’re gonna make it through the night.

You all move into the living room while dinner is being prepared, except for Trish who excuses herself to the kitchen. Tommy sits on the couch next to you while Joel is standing in front of the window with his arms crossed over his chest and Sarah is relaxing in her favorite spot, on some big fluffy cushions randomly scattered on the floor next to the fireplace, scrolling through her phone.

“Trish, do you need a hand?” you try to keep your voice steady, although you desperately need an excuse to leave the room. No such luck. “No babe”, comes the wrong answer, “I got it, you chill and have fun!” Why she has to be such a good friend is beyond you. You smile awkwardly and look everywhere but in Joel’s direction. Tommy puts you all out of your misery by asking you about your relationship with Trish.

“Oh, we’ve been best friends for a long time, done pretty much everything together,” you explain, deliberately raising your voice for the last part, “it’s starting to get unhealthy if you ask me,” you look towards the kitchen entrance, waiting for her reaction. “You’re not moving outta here any time soon, missy, so stop whining!” comes the reply from the kitchen. You grin as Tommy and Sarah laugh. Joel just stares at you with a scowl on his face.

“Are you staying long?” Tommy continues.

“Tommy.” Joel warns him.

“I’m just making conversation sunshine, ‘mnot being nosy!”

“It’s ok, really, no problem at all.” you intervene, feeling sorry for Tommy, still avoiding looking directly at Joel. “I’ll be out of her hair, as soon as I find a place to move to..”

“No, you won’t!” Trish protests. “Yes, I will!” you deadpan, “I told you it was getting unhealthy.”, you wink at Tommy before you could stop yourself. Why the hell did you wink at him? You need to calm down before you do something stupid. Joel’s fingers tighten, clutching his arms tighter to his chest. Shit, you don’t think straight when you’re stressed. Tommy seems to like it, though.

“Maybe we could help you”, Tommy offers, “we see lots of places ‘cause of our job, we could keep you in mind if something good comes up.”

“Tommy.” Joel drags his brother’s name across his tongue as a warning. You look at him quizzically for the first time since your handshake, wondering what they do for a living. Fortunately, you work up the courage to ask Joel directly, before Tommy has time to protest to his brother again.

“I’m a contractor” Joel informs you with the slightest hint of annoyance, as if he was reluctant to share this mundane information, “and Tommy works with me.”

“Oh, that’s cool!”, you raise your eyebrows in admiration, your eyes brightening. He takes his eyes off you and you wither inside.

“Well, never heard that one before. Joel is cool.” Tommy says in mocking surprise, giggling. You look flustered and Joel looks annoyed. “She didn’t say I was cool.” he frowns at his brother, “I know my job is far from fancy, you don’t have to just say that.” he turns his reply to you, displeased with your comment.

God, you feel like a little child in his presence, he can’t just chastise you like that, you have two kids of your own, you’re an adult, for Christ’s sake. “I know I’m not,” you say defensively and you start to get irritated. This is how the night is going to unravel? “I mean it. I have always admired people who can build and repair things with their own hands. Three pairs of eyes are now looking at you, all of them quite surprised.

Joel has absolutely no confidence in himself to start a conversation with you right now, but his curiosity gets the better of him. So, “How so?” is the next thing that comes out of his mouth.

Your eyes widen slightly in startlement at his sudden elaboration, you hadn’t expected him to continue the conversation. “Uh,” you sigh, raising your brows in deep thought and shaking your head slightly, “maybe it has something to do with my dad, he was always good at fixing things. I don’t know, it made me feel safe, taken care of. Still does, even the thought of it. I always thought that if the world ever came to an end, your kind would be the ones to survive.” you shrug, unable to look Joel in the eye and fidgeting with your fingers on your lap, the answer more intimate than you intend it to be. But you give it anyway, for him.

You want him to know that you would never lie or make fun of him. That night, however indifferent it was to him, made him indelibly etched in your memory. And even though your interaction was so brief, one night out of the thousands in your life, it made you feel something for him. Childish as it may sound, you felt he deserved your respect in some way.

There’s a moment’s silence in the room, Joel staring down at his feet, not wanting to look emotional. Taken care of. He can’t get the words out of his head; it’s what he felt for you that night, what he wanted to offer you before his chance was torn apart by the fucking knoc-

“Our kind?” Tommy intervenes once more.

“Yeah,” you try not to blush, but you can feel the heat in your cheeks, “you know, resourceful, competent, reliable.” Sarah tries to hide her grin behind her mobile phone, sneaking glances in Joel’s direction, little devil, while Tommy looks so pleased with your perception of their profession.

“Then you should definitely keep us close, take full advantage of us,” Tommy fills the silence, now his turn to wink at you, oh god, what a mess, “I’m in the same business, too, like Joel said.” Subtle. “We’d be more than happy to help darlin’, right Joel?” he turns to look at his older, brooding brother. Joel seems lost in thought or uninterested in answering. “Right?” he presses eagerly. Joel slowly raises his head, looks deep into your eyes and says nothing more than “Right” in a deep drawl of a voice. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He makes you feel so small but you feel a glob of arousal pooling on your underwear, making you wonder what the hell is wrong with you.

Tommy turns to you expectantly, his eyes shining under the lights in the room.

“Maybe I intend to.”, you smile softly, glancing briefly at Joel before turning your eyes back to Tommy. Joel’s body stiffens, giving you the impression he’s trying to hold something back.

“Is it something particular you’re interested in, so we know what we’re looking for?” To your and Joel’s dismay, Tommy doesn’t let up. Your eyes turn briefly to Joel for help, but he looks down again, his arms still stiff across his chest, as if they had a mind of their own and were capable of murder if he let them go at his sides.

“Uuuuh,” you laugh nervously, “anything will do considering my situation, I can’t really be picky.”

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart?” Tommy frowns worriedly. Joel stiffens at the sound of the endearment.

Where do you start with what’s going on in your life right now? Only one person -apart from Trish- seems to know and he doesn’t look very happy at the moment. “Well, Tommy, I’ve two kids, two little girls and I can’t find a place that is decent enough, at a good price and owned by someone who doesn’t mind renting their property to a single mom.” Tommy’s brows are raised so high in shock, they would touch his hairline if they could. “Goddamn, how the hell did that happen?”

“How did what happen?” you ask confused. “You,” he says, his eyes roaming all over you in a definitively not subtle way, “being a single mom with two kids. What the hell did he d-”

“Tommy.” Joel’s tone is more raised this time, shooting daggers at his brother, warning him again to drop it. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ” Joel mutters through his teet, a look of disbelief on his face at his brother’s lack of discretion and if you weren’t already looking at him, you wouldn’t have heard it.

Trish comes out of the kitchen before you or Tommy can react.

“Ok guys, let’s move it to the dining table.” she clasps her hands together, “Dinner will be ready in ten!”

While everyone’s attention is focused on Trish, including yours, Joel’s eyes penetrate you in a silent command to look at him. You feel him staring at you and you turn your attention to him. He continues to stare at you as he asks Trish if she has any tools to fix her bathroom cabinet, since Tommy forgot the one thing he was supposed to remember. He takes his eyes off you as the others laugh at his accusation and turn to look at him.

“Yeah, I think I have a small toolbox in the supply closet upstairs, next to the bathroom. I don’t remember exac-”

“That’s ok Trish, I’m going to check on the girls anyway, I’ll help Joel look for it.” you take the opportunity to excuse yourself.

You stand up carefully, feeling your legs go numb and praying you don’t trip and make a fool of yourself in front of everyone. Joel follows behind you as you go up the stairs. You can feel the tension between you, his body heat almost warming your back. He can’t be that close though, can h-

As soon as you reach the door to the bathroom, he opens it in a hurry and pushes you in, grabbing hold of your arm as he follows suit. You gasp at his gesture and turn to face him. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something. His arms are clenched in fists at his side, giving you the impression he’s trying to control himself.

You’re both silent, despite a vocabulary so vast, none of the words seem to fit your thoughts and emotions. “You’re OK.” He speaks first. It’s not a question, not a reassurance. It’s a statement of fact. You look confused, trying to work out where he is going with this. He thought you would break down at the sight of him? Well, he wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to know. “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” It comes out harsher than you intended.

You see in real time a series of thoughts crossing his eyes, something fragile and vulnerable in the air. But it passes as quickly as it came.

“Nothin’, nothin’.”, he shakes his head and closes his eyes, trying to clear his mind. He opens his eyes with a sigh and looks at you. You stare at each other for a good minute and then you both realize that you are together again, the two of you, in a small bathroom, behind a closed door. Your brain is blank, the only thought crossing it is to say something, say something, say something, but he beats you to it. “It’s best if we don’t tell them we know each other.” Is he serious right now? From all the things he could have said, this is what he came up with? You bite the inside of your cheek in frustration, “Well, I think we’re already past that, that firm handshake at the front door made that quite clear.”

“You played along, though. So, don’t go around accusing m-”

“Hey, hey, I’m not accusing you of anything, where is this even coming from?” you frown in confusion. He wanted you to admit you knew him in front of everyone? In front of his daughter? “Hey, guys, how do you know each other?” “Oh, we almost fucked in a bar bathroom!”. That would have gone well.

“Yeah, I’m just sayin’-”

“Look, Joel, there’s nothing to say. It’s not like I was going to shout it over the rooftops anyway.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”, he looks offended for some reason.

“Means that there’s nothing to say.” you insist sternly. “Literally.”

He laughs nervously, obviously irritated. You don’t understand why, you thought you were making his life easier. What does he want from you? “Right, right,” is all he gives you, nodding his head a few times. You raise your hands in resignation, your eyebrows raised to your forehead, your mouth open, not knowing how to navigate the situation.

“What is your problem, what do you want me to say? You pretended not to know me when you saw me and you just told me, like 30 seconds ago, not to mention anything to anyone! I think I’m doing all right so far, don’t you? How am I pissing you of exactly?” your anger makes you raise your voice slightly.

He’s all over you in a second, pinning you between his body and the bathroom door. “Keep your goddamn voice down.” he grits through his teeth, his one hand a clenched fist at his side, the other next to your head, palm flat on the door. The sudden invasion of his scent in your nostrils and the fan of his breath on your lips is all you can register, but his words come back to you and your anger boils in your gut.

“Watch your tone with me, I’m not some child you can intimidate.” you shoot back. That seems to snap him out of his headspace and he backs away slightly. He exhales loudly from his nose and rests his forehead on his outstretched arm, the other now resting on his hip. His unruly locks are so close to your face that you can practically smell his shampoo. You clench your fist to resist running your fingers through his soft hair. “Shit,” he mumbles through closed eyes, he really doesn’t seem to be able to keep his eyes on you long enough, “’msorry”.

He smells so good, so delicious, that it takes every ounce of strength you have not to wrap your hands around his broad torso. You want this moment to yourself, to wrap your arms around him and comfort him, to plant kisses all over his face, to nuzzle your forehead where his thick neck meets his shoulder, to breathe him in. The corded muscles bulging under his tanned skin make you salivate. This guy is pissing you off and all you can think of is how you’d die to touch him. Great. You rest your head on the door behind you, close your eyes and grit your teeth, trying to regulate your breathing.

“’Msorry” he mutters again, shaking his head. He looks so worried and uncomfortable, you decide to give him another chance. Maybe he’s confused, too. You both had to make a call at such a short notice, with his whole family looking at both of you expectantly to introduce yourselves. It was the logical thing to do. Wasn’t it?

Maybe he’s afraid you’d expose your naughty deeds in front of his daughter. After all, no parent wants their child to know that they’ve almost had sex with a stranger in a bar. You totally understand. And to be honest, you did leave him all hot and bothered back in that bathroom and run the opposite way, so why would he want to be in the same room with you? He probably feels insulted by your reaction that night.

Or maybe- how did you not think of this before? Maybe he has a wife. But he’s not wearing a ring. Not that it matters, lots of people take their rings off at some point. Maybe he has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t she be here with them for dinner if that was the case? With him? He doesn’t look the type, either. The cheating one. But you hardly know him, you don’t really know much about him beyond what he told you about his past that night.

“Joel.” you call his name looking at him through your lashes, your head still resting on the door.

“Hm” he hums, still in the same position.

“Joel, hey.” you try to get his attention again, this time lifting your head to look straight at him, a gentle smile on your face.

His eyes finally meet yours in a subtle, tired hey, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

You hold each other’s gaze taking each other in, and you both laugh softly in a quiet understanding. But this feels so warm, so soft and tender, is he really that angry with you? He must be, otherwise why the tension? You should try and put him at ease.

“Look, I understand this is awkward and unexpected; I do. But we’re fine; we’re gonna be fine, Joel.” Damn, the sound of his name in your mouth. “I won’t say anything, really, don’t worry. We’ll have a nice meal, we’ll make the typical minimum small talk and when this night is over we’ll be out of each other’s hair, you won’t have to see me again if I can help it, I don’t mean any trouble, seriously.”

And there it is again, the disappointment. “Yeah, no, I know. Sorry I snapped at you.”

Joel looks as if he’s going to say something more, but at the last moment he changes his mind.

You nod in acceptance of his apology. “Let me hand you that toolbox, before they start wondering what’s taking us so long, hm?”

“Sure.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Ok, I’m gonna check on the girls and then head downstairs.”

Joel nods as he takes the toolbox from you, careful not to touch you and crouches down on his knees to inspect the damage to the cabinet. You glance in his direction one last time, admiring his wide, strong form kneeling on the floor and then close the door behind you quietly.

“Fuck.” you both exhale on either side of the door.

Two rotations of the earth around the sun had passed and Joel had become a constant in your life. He came and went like the seasons, with an orbit of his own.

Winter.

His orbit was longer and colder. The distance between you grew, more so emotionally, as if something was holding him back. The domesticity of it all was too much for him, scratching at old wounds he tried too hard to keep buried. He always cared, always kept an eye on you, but from a safe distance.

Like the time you came home late from work and cursed yourself for not cooking dinner in advance. You were starving, but the thought of making something to eat seemed like too much trouble; you were exhausted. Thank goodness the girls had their dinner ready, all you had to do was heat it up. Two minutes after you let yourself in, the doorbell rang. You rushed out of the bathroom and opened the door to a takeaway, its temperature indicating that it had just been delivered to your doorstep. You looked around but saw no one. You were pretty sure it was a mistake, but then your phone vibrated,

Eat, while it’s hot.

Did you leave these outside?

Yes.

Why?

Trish told me you were caught up at work, thought I’d save you some time.

You just kept staring at the screen, your heart warm but your mind confused. A second text came while you debated what to answer him.

Need to take better care of yourself.

No, why ‘d you leave?

Summer.

His orbit was shorter and warmer, like a pleasant summer breeze. He was around more, more involved in your life.

Like the time he was in on your house hunting trip.

Like when he talked you into buying a house and not renting because he found one for you that was beautiful and ideal and close to Trish’s so you wouldn’t be alone and your daughters would love it and it was a family house. Yes, the house was a ruin. OK, maybe not a ruin, but really old. It was beautiful, but it had definitely seen better days. It needed a lot of renovation.

“Joel, I can’t afford this.” you said as you looked around, almost pained to have to say no. It was a really lovely house.

“Listen to me-” Joel tried to make his point but you interrupted him anyway.

“I am listening to you, that’s how you convinced me to consider buying a house instead of renting an apartment. But if I do, I’ll use up all my savings, I can’t afford a renovation of this magnitude,” you continued, looking around the house, moving from room to room, imagining how you would have decorated it if it was yours.

“I’m gonna help you with that.” he said bashfully.

“How are you going to do that, Joel?” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Do you remember what I do for a living?” Joel teased you and you glared at him.

“I’m not sure, I think you mentioned something about a contracting bussiness?” you mimicked him. “Joel, I’m serious. Of course I would choose you and Tommy if i could afford it.” you said in despair, eyes wide, hands in the air as if you’re pleading with him. Which you were.

“I’ll do it in my spare time.” he suggested, looking down at his feet, avoiding eye contact and hugging his chest with his arms, as if trying to protect himself from the vulnerable position he had put himself in.

It took you a minute to register what he was implying. Your jaw dropped, unsure of what to say when you did. Your heart ached with warmth and your breath caught in your chest. It was too much.

“There’s no way I’m accepting this, you know that.”

“I really don’t min-”

“Absolutely not, not in a million years.”

“Goddamn, you’re stubborn!” he snapped, not used to not getting his way. Take the fuckin’ help, goddamn it. Your eyes looked glazed, you never had the ability to deal well with people snapping at you quite well. Especially people you cared about. Joel felt your discomfort and immediately regretted his temper. Soft things needed gentle handling. And you were soft. So soft for this world. For him.

He stepped closer to you and engulfed your hands in his with a deep sigh. “Look, I’ve done the calculation. This is the best deal you can get. The price of the house is fair. In fact, between you and me, it’s low. And I’ve already worked out what needs to be fixed.” He paused, breathing in and exhaling a little harder. “I want to do this. For y- for the girls”, he stuttered and you looked down to where your hands met. These hands. His hands. Big and warm and capable. Capable of renovating your house, capable of holding your hands in his, capable of taking you apart piece by piece. Were they capable of putting you back together again?

Your whole body tingled with another wave of warmth at his touch. But it was too much. It was always too much with him. The unbearable distance or the suffocating closeness. All because he wouldn’t make up his damn mind. He couldn’t do that to you. Give you a glimpse of affection and then pull away. Because you were sure he would eventually. As he had done so many times before. This time you had to protect yourself. So you pushed him away the only way you knew how.

You tore your hands from his tender grip as you attacked him in a raised tone pointing at him. “We are not your responsibility!” You regretted it the moment you spat it out. You didn’t have to be so harsh. So quick to anger. Please, please be angry with me. Scream at me. Turn your back and walk away. Make me feel like shit.

He looked at you in shock, his eyebrows raised, a hint of sadness on his face. And something else, more subtle. As if in understanding. As if he could hear your thoughts. You were not his to care for. You were not his to protect. “I know that.” he sighed, squeezing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Joel,-” you tried to take it back, there were not many things you hated more than what was happening right now. The fact that you couldn’t take back what you had just said. You felt terrible.

“Look,” he interrupted you, raising his arms in resignation. “I’m just trying to help. You moved states alone with two kids, starting from scratch. I just thought maybe I could ease some of the burden. It’s the decent thing to do.”

“Joel, you are cutting yourself short. This is beyond decent. Trish and you- and- and- Tommy and Sarah of course,” you mumbled embarrassingly, “you’re all I have and you have supported me in more ways than I can count. That’s why I can’t be a burden to you.”

“I didn’t mean you were a burden.”

“No, no, I know, this is not on you, this is me, I-”

His face was full of concern as he waited patiently for you to speak your mind.

“I don’t want to be a burden. Or to feel like one. Even if I know-, I know I’m not that to you. I know that. But just the thought of the possibility makes me freak out. That’s why I need to keep everything under control, because if I give it away, even a little, I don’t know how I could ever repay this kindness. I don’t even know if I’m worthy. I’m not-” your voice broke at this confession and you took a breath to recover, “my life is not easy to navigate, I don’t want anyone to stress over me.”

Joel seemed shocked for a moment, not believing what he was hearing. “You think you’re not worthy of kindness? That’s very cruel coming from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Yeah, someone good and kind and caring.”

“You must have me confused with someone else.” you joked, feeling uncomfortable at his praise.

“Darling, if I had known anyone else like you, I would have held on to them for dear life," he spat, before realizing what he had said. He laughed awkwardly, frowning at the slip of his tongue and looked around the room to avoid your gaze. Why don’t you hold on to me, then? was all you could think of, but you didn’t dare ask him. So you moved on, protecting the friendship.

“I just- Jesus, I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you murmured through your teeth, “I was brought up to be strong, never to ask for help, otherwise it was considered a weakness. I learned to do everything myself. By the time my parents grew out of their own insecurities and urged me to be more open, more vocal, it was too late for me to change.” Why on earth are you telling him all this? Why did you mention your parents?

“So, you do kindness, but you don’t accept kindness.” Joel observed and you realized that you had never made that connection.

“I- I don’t know how to receive it; what to do with it.”

In the end, he practically forced his help on you, bit by bit, one sweet word at a time, day by day, until the house was a home. Everywhere you looked you saw Joel’s efforts.

You saw the care with which he worked on this house as if it were his own. You heard his laughter as you forced him to take a break and shoved food into his mouth, knowing he hadn’t eaten all day. Every step you took on the hardwood floors reminded you of his broad back as he knelt down to replace the old floor. Every shower you took was a painful reminder of his massive, veiny hands sweating as he reinstalled the hardware. Everything felt like Joel, even in his absence.

NOW

“What is this party for, again?” you call out from her bedroom as you apply your lipstick in front of her vanity mirror. You almost didn’t come, but you knew she’d drag your ass back to her place if you didn’t.

“This is fooor..” Trish replies from her en-suite bathroom as she searches for a good excuse, unable to find one. “You know what, I don’t need a reason to have a party! Think of it as a chance to see each other more!”

“Trish, we can do this without a million people around us and me leaving my kids with a babysitter.” you roll your eyes in fake exasperation.

“Your kids are gonna be just fine. They want you to have a good time.”

“They’re four and two years old, dude.”

“Well, in that case, they want you to find them a daddy.”

“Oh my god, Trish! Seriously?” you snort at her comment.

“That’s what’s the party’s all about! You finding yourself a daddy; if I’m being honest-”

“Please don’t!” you beg her to stop.

“-you need it more than they do. That is so perfect! I actually have a couple of guys in mind and they’re a bit older, just like you like ‘em-”

“What?” you swallow tightly and you’re glad she can’t see your face right now. “What are you talking about?”

Trish pops her head through the door and wiggles her eyebrows, “They’re about Joel’s age, is what I’m talking about.” You shake your head in denial, your eyes are closed in frustration. “Trish..”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, there’s nothing going on between you; that’s why you’re both hot and flustered every time you’re in the same room.” Your shoulders slump down but you don’t answer because this is getting old.

“What, nothing to say for yourself?” Trish weighs up your reaction and lack of response.

“Frankly, I don’t know what else to say to you.” you shrug in defeat.

“Fine, then find someone to fuck, tonight. That would clear up the air.. for all parties.” Thankfully, you’re saved by the bell, “Jesus..” you mutter to yourself as she leaves you once again to open the door for the first guests.

The party is a success by Trish’s standards, as the house is overflowing with guests. Some of them you knew, most of them you didn’t.

Joel is somewhere in the crowd, chatting to a couple of ladies who have trapped him between them, ogling him like vultures. You make it your mission to rescue him, judging by the desperate look on his face and the furtive glances he throws your way.

As you move to head to his direction, an arm gently encircles your elbow. You turn to see who it is, and are greeted by a stranger. Tall, broad, sweet brown all over his features. He exudes an earthy and secure aura.

“Hi.” the stranger smiles warmly at you, looking deep into your eyes.

“Um,” you blush, why on earth are you blushing, “hi!” you say back. Original.

“I’m Marcus, a colleague of Trish’s.”

“Oh, hi, nice to meet you!” you tell him your name and shake his hand.

“I knew I was right.” he says amusedly, as if talking to himself.

“About what?”

“Trish gave me your name and told me to come find you.”

“Excellent tracking skills, are you a detective or something?”, you tease him playfully.

“Yeah, something like that..”

“Oh- I-” the words catch on your tongue.

“But I had a great lead, wasn’t that hard, to be honest.” he adds.

“Can you share it with me, or you’ll have to kill me if you tell me?” you joke. He was so easy to talk to.

Marcus tips his head back, laughing, “I wouldn’t resort to such methods; let me buy you a drink and we’ll call it even.”

You look down at your hands, your cheeks red from his attention, rolling the bottle of beer you are holding between your palms, too tightly.

“I mean, not right now; I’m sure we could work something out if you’d indulge me.” he adds sheepishly, somehow sensing your train of thought.

God, he’s adorable and not too bad to look at. Actually, he’s quite handsome. “Well, I’ll have to see if your lead is worth my time first.”

Panic rushes through you as you realize the sound of what you said while trying to be funny, and you try to correct it quickly. “Not that- oh gosh-” you feel so embarrassed, but Marcus laughs heartily and shakes his head from side to side.

“Shit, sorry, it was a joke, that’s not the only reason I would go out with you-” Isn’t it? What are you doing? What is he doing to you? Where is Joel? Shit, Joel.

You steal a glance in his direction and he’s already watching your interaction with Marcus, his face hard and unreadable.

“Isn’t it?” Marcus’s voice draws your attention back to him, your eyelids flattering in confusion. He grins, pleased, but so sweet it’s impossible to roll your eyes at him. Your shyness pours through your body language, making Marcus want to comfort you.

“Hey, hey, it’s cool, don’t worry about it. I know it was a joke; I liked it.” he says honestly, “And even if that was the only reason I’m sure by the end of the night you would have changed your mind.” he gives you a lopsided smile, but there’s no smugness on his face.

When he starts to speak again, Trish interrupts, effectively shutting him down. “What took you so long, I thought you couldn’t find her!”

Marcus smiles again, warmth and familiarity washing over you instantly, “Oh, I found her, quite quickly.” his eyes twinkling.

Trish smirks as if she’s realized something, “Come on, I need you outside.”, she grabs your arm and pulls you along, “I’m gonna steal her for a bit, sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s OK, I’m confident I can find her again.”, Marcus winks at you and your heart skips a beat.

You start to walk away, but abruptly turn back, your curiosity overpowering you.

“Never told me about that lead.” you ask him, your eyes wide and wondering.

Marcus bites the inside of his cheek, looking briefly down and then meets your gaze with a hunger in his eyes. “Oh, I had to find the most dazzling woman in the crowd.”, he shrugs as if it was the most self-evident fact in the world. “Mission accomplished.”

You replayed your interaction with Marcus in your mind as you helped Trish light the lanterns on the porch. He had been so kind, direct and sweet, making you feel seen. What bothered you was your reaction. Your insecurity, your inability to believe that he was talking about you. The urge you had to fight when you thought of looking around the room to make sure he wasn't referring to someone else.

What bothered you most was that although it had been two years since you had separated from your husband, you had never felt insecure about yourself. He couldn’t make you feel that way. Of course you doubted yourself at first, looking for your share of the blame, but his actions spoke louder than words, and you couldn’t blame yourself for everything, even if you tried.

But Joel did. He made you feel insecure, vulnerable. With his mixed signals and his constant back and forth, he managed to drive you crazy. What did he want from you? Why couldn’t he make up his mind? Why weren’t you enough? Were you too much?

Maybe it wasn’t just Joel. Maybe anyone in his position would have the same concerns. Perhaps Marcus would do the same if he found out about your family status. Where did that come from? You don’t even know the guy, stop it.

“OK,” you hear Trish behind you, “all set, let’s get back inside.”

You nod, but as you turn to go into the house, Trish comes close, a mischievous look on her eyes and lips. “Maybe, uh..” and she pauses dramatically making you furrow your brow in puzzlement. “Maybe I was wrong about the age gap, huh?”

Oh, god.

“He’s one of the good ones; I approve.” she winks at you and slaps you on the ass cheek, ushering you into the house while you roll your eyes the hardest you could manage.

“Ok, now I need to know.” He laughs heartily, his eyes wrinkling, his whole face lighting up. It didn’t happen very often. It made your heart swell that you were the one making it crinkle with laughter. You loved that face.

“What?” you reply, unsuccessfully fighting back a laugh, dragging out the vowel. You had had a few beers and were relaxed and comfortable around him. You were both standing near the stairs, giving yourselves a bit of privacy from the crowded party. You were still visible to everyone, but it was a little quieter than the constant buzz throughout the house.

“Well, you’re obviously mad at him-” Joel states matter-of-factly, as he leans his back against the wall behind him, but you interrupt before he can finish, “No, I’m not!” and slap your hand on the railing next to you for good measure.

“Uh, uh, uh, none of that,” he looks at you mischievously, “but you never say anything bad about him. So, which one was he?”

“What on earth do you mean, Joel?” and you half whimper his name, thanks to the alcohol in your system, making his cock twitch. God, the things he wants to do to you.

Joel inhales sharply, trying to keep his composure, because he really needs to know what kind of an idiot husband you had chosen to place by your side only to be betrayed; a side he would die to be by. If only he had been the right man for you.

“Which half was he?”

You burst out laughing, finally figuring out what he means. You’re impressed that he still remembers, although it makes sense since you sort of insulted him that night. You know you can’t lie for shit, so you brace yourself, anticipating his reaction. You can almost see the face he’s going to make.

“Actually..” you start, prolonging the suspense, not on purpose, but because you are choking on your own giggles. It’s going to sound so pathetic, but for some reason you can’t wait to tell him how you’ve been deliberately putting yourself down for years. “Yeah...?” His eyes are fixed on you, amused, but you can see the agony underneath.

“He was both.” And you can barely contain your laughter, almost snorting.

He is still at first, as if some invisible remote control has paused the whole scene, waiting for the oh, I’m kidding. When that moment passes, his eyebrows go up so high, his forehead fills with wrinkles. His jaw drops open and he actually looks shocked to the core, almost frightened.

“Both? BOTH?” he practically hovers over you in frustration. “So, emotionally unavailable and bad sex.” he says again, incredulous that someone like you would ever choose someone like your ex.

“Joel!” you chastise him, slapping him on the shoulder, looking around you to see if anyone has overheard your conversation.

Joel fake hisses at your fake hit and taunts you with his laugh.

You shake your head dismissively, “What can I say? You know me, I don’t go halfway, I go all the way.” you reply between laughs, pumping your fist in victory.

He shakes his head in mock despair, then looks down for a few seconds, as if he’s making his mind up for something and then up at you through his lashes. “Oh, baby,” he sighs, “you really need someone to take good care of you” his voice drops, his eyes still holding the amusement but there is a hunger behind his words.

You inhale sharply and then hold your breath as your brain fantasizes about him taking good care of you, right now. You stare at each other for a long time, as if there’s no one else around, and finally you break the silence. A slight anger begins to glimmer in your chest, but you try to push it down. “Well, no such luck on that front.” you drop the bait and see where it takes you.

He can’t say things like that and expect you to do nothing. A small glimmer of hope tries to climb over the uneasy feeling inside you. It sinks its claws into your heart, scratching at the surface of your well-hidden desire. Maybe this time he’ll take a chance on you. Maybe this time he will ask you. Maybe. You try to push that away as well.

“Maybe you should put yourself out there more.” There he is. He’s pulling back, again. It’s fucking exhausting. You know you should be more patient and see where this goes, but your anger is boiling fast, ready to pour out of every pore. He started it, so you might as well finish it.

“Unless, what I need is in here.” Please, please, don’t make me regret this. Over and over, like a mantra.

He swallows so hard you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing, his knuckles turning white around his beer bottle. His eyes keep darting between yours, searching for something.

“Pretty sure it’s not, if you know what’s good for you.” Did he just say that? Your pulse rises and you hold back the tears that tend to gather so easily at your waterline. How could he say that to you? But you recover quickly, he won’t see another drop of tears from you. Not ever again.

“What, you don’t like Marcus?”

“Who?” you see Joel’s body stiffen at the man’s name, his eyes frantically scanning yours for an answer and revenge never tasted better. You would say you were drunk on power if it weren’t for the damn beers.

“Marcus, Trish’s colleague from work, she introduced us tonight- well- not exactly, but- anyway.”, you dismiss your own comment by waving your hand in the air. “Maybe you’re right. I should start giving people a chance. Maybe I’ve waited long enough.” There’s someone interested in you. He’s interested in you and he’s shown it. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to feel the look of desire in someone’s eyes. But you’d rather it was Joel’s.

Check mate. His move now.

“Are you sure you want to lead with Marcus?” His voice full of mockery. “You don’t even know the guy.”

“Oh. So, let me get this straight.” you counter. “I should get myself out there and I should do it with someone I know. Let me think.” you take a deep breath and in that short time of in and out through your nose, you debate whether you should say it. Joel seems to catch up with what you’re thinking, raises his hand and purses his lips, but before he can speak-

Fuck it.

“Are you offering?” You ask playfully, with a saccharine smile. Sometimes you really wish you were not so direct. But you couldn’t deny the sweet satisfaction of nailing him to the wall, when you saw the look of mortification on his face. The time for regret would come, but it was not right fuckin’ now.

Joel is speechless, his eyes widen and his mouth opens and closes without a sound. He clearly thought you’d back down. Maybe he thought you liked this dancing around. Maybe he thought he had more time on his hands. Or maybe he didn’t expect you to finally confront him head-on. Still playful, but head-on.

He takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself. He starts to say something, but you don’t catch it because out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus approaching you quickly. If a higher power was listening tonight, it was focusing on the wrong part of the story.

Just before he enters your personal space and you excuse yourself, you linger slowly over Joel, touching his waist with one hand. You feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt and under your palm. You take your eyes off his and look at his plush lips as your face comes dangerously close to his. Your lips brush the space between his earlobe and his neck and you painfully accept this is probably the most you will ever have of Joel Miller. His breath hitches at the feel of your soft lips and the puff of air as you whisper in his ear, “Relax Joel, I wasn’t counting on you.”

That hurt.

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