#Only yesterday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alicedopey · 2 days ago

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*sigh* well, it had to happen. He had to humiliate her since she played peeping Tom and tried to get rid of him. Sure she watched him and Cleo but if you don't want to be seen, don't expose yourself. You are the one at fault here, Mr. Fowler.

And I wish he hadn't threatened the grandmother. It was despicable of him.

Poor reader seemed utterly lost and terrified...and it was her first time. The only good point being that Nick will probably leave her alone now. He had his fun, got his revenge and can now find his next prey. Reader will "just" have to get her life back on track and try to take care of her grandmother as if nothing had happened.

Thanks for finishing this story !

Only Yesterday 4 ~ End

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, voyeurism, intimidation, isolation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Isolated and lonely in your life as your grandmother’s caretaker, you find yourself living vicariously through your neighbour.

Character: Nick Fowler

Note: I sat on half a chapter forever and I'm sorry.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like a love song, baby. Take care. 💖

You turn and march away from Nick. He chuckles and follows casually. There is no urgency in his step, as if he is certain of his goal.

You twist the knob on the stove and put the kettle over the burner. He looms in the doorway, watching as you distract yourself with the tin of tea bags. Your hands are clumsy and shaking. You don’t know what to do to make him leave. You don’t think you can.

“You don't gotta be so shy. Hell, I should be considering all you saw–"

"Stop," you plead as you keep you back to him, "I told you it was a mistake."

"Uh huh. Because it was wrong or because you got caught?"

“Both,” you turn to face him, “please, I get it. Alright, I’m fucked up. I’m sorry I watch you but you don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?” He asks with a soft smirk.

You inhale and shrug, “terrorise me? Ruin my life? I don’t know what you’re doing but I want you to stop. Please, leave me alone.”

His lips curve fully and he blows out between his lips, shaking his head as he comes closer. You hold yourself still, barely able to keep a tremble from breaking the surface. He steps around you at the last moment and goes to the cupboard. He takes out a cup and plucks free a teabag to drop inside.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, “do what I say and no one gets hurt.”

The subtle shift in his tone unsettles you. Still mocking but sinister. You watch him as you cross your arms protectively.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s an old lady. One accident and… that’s that,” he leans on the stove as he faces you again, “so, you are going to sit down so I can make Ruth Ann her tea. I’ll get to you, don’t worry.”

You hesitate, swaying in spot. You touch the side of your neck and frown. Your heart plummets to your feet. You’ve brought him to your grandmother’s front door, you’ll never forgive yourself if he goes any further than that.

“Promise you won’t hurt her,” you eke out.

“That’s all up to you,” he winks, “oh, and when I’m done serving the queen her nightly chamomile, I expect to find you ready.”

“Ready?” You swallow.

He tilts his head as his eyes wander down your body, “put on something less…. Just less.” He smirks, “nothing, preferably.”

You hug yourself and frown. You can’t hold back the shudder. He didn’t say he won’t hurt you.

“In the front room,” he stares at you, his brows tweak, and he taps the tip of your nose. “Go on, won’t be long before the water’s ready.”

You lower your eyes and sidle away. Your eyes gloss hotly as you march into the front room. You glance at the windows. The evening paints the balcony in shadows.

You stand in front of the couch. All those nights you wish you were Cleo, you were so stupid. You don’t want this. Everything was just fine before you messed it all up. You’re just as ungrateful as Nan said in her fits.

The kettle whistles and you flinch. You can hear everything, the twist of the knob on the stove, the pour of boiling water, your pulse. His footsteps strut through the archway and he passes into the light of the hall.

“Ruth Ann,” he calls to your grandmother as he smirks for you, “tea’s ready.”

He heads down to her bedroom and you sniffle. You face the couch and sway. The tears pebble along the brims of your eyes. They roll out as your lashes flick.

You undress shakily. First your shirt, then your pants. You sit to take of your sock, your legs to flimsy to balance. You ball them up as you sit in your high-rise briefs and thin white bra. The bedroom door clicks and his soles pad closer.

You sense him as he stands in the crux of the hall and entryway, watching you from the arch. You can’t bring yourself to look. You hunch and grip your knees.

He crosses the room. The silence roils around his prowling figure. Your eyes flit over as the lamplight limns his figure. He unbuttons the borrowed shirt as he circles like a hawk. You tense and plead with the floor to swallow you up.

He tosses the shirt onto the chair. You wince as it lands with a soft whoosh. His belt clinks and you whimper. You wipe your cheeks with your knuckles. He startles you as he hooks his arm around to grab your chin. He pulls you to lean against the couch as he stands behind it.

He looks down at you as his muscled torso flexes. He smirks and bends as his thumb stretches up your cheek. He tuts as he nuzzles your nose.

“Why’re you crying, sweetheart?” He growls.

You can’t answer as a sob lumps in your throat. He keeps hold of you as he rounds the couch. He comes in front of you and hovers his mouth over yours. He brings his other hand to your face and wipes your tears with his roughened palms.

He frames your jaw and guides you to sit up. He presses his lip to yours. You squeak and reach to push on his chest, scalded by his nudity. He clings to you as his tongue glides along your lips and pokes through. You nearly gag on his tongue.

His large hands cradle your head as he traps you in his vice. You slouch as he lowers himself to his knees, pulling you with him. You grasp his shoulders as you wriggle and try to detach.

When he lets you go, you swing back against the couch and gasp. The feet scrape on the floor as it lurches. He chuckles and brings his finger up to his lips, hushing you.

“Don’t wanna wake nan,” he traces the straps of you bra then covers the cups with his hands. He bounces you in his hands. “Mm, you gonna be quiet for me, baby?”

Your lips trembles as your lashes stick with dried tears. You shiver and stare at him. He slides his hands around you and tugs on the band of your bra. He unhooks it and gently draws the straps down your arms. As he uncovers your chest, you try to hide.

He clucks and yanks away the bra meanly.

You drop your arms and bat away another swathe of tears. He hums and tickles up your sides. His fingers leave a tingle of warmth as he pulls away. He shifts on his knees and searches in his pocket. He brings out a chain that catches the lamp's glow. You stare at the single pearl hanging from it, just like the one you saw at the market.

"I thought it'd be even prettier on," he reaches to you and clasps it behind your neck. He trails his hand along the length and sets the pearl to rest just above your chest. You inhale as he once more feels along the swell of your tits.

He bends forward and buries his face against your chest. He turns his head and nips at the sensitive flesh. You squeak and he spreads his hand over your mouth. You bite down on your tongue. If your nan walks in on this, you're not sure she'd be okay. She might not be able to handle the shock and you're not sure what Nick would do to her.

His thumbs circle your nipple and he places his lips around the other. He toys with you as you writhe helplessly. You grab onto his wrist and try to push him away. He twists and latches you instead. He puts your hand on his head and teethes your sensitive bud.

You quiver as your strength dissolves. Despite your fear, it feels good. All of it.

His fingers flutter down your stomach and along the elastic of your panties. You wince. He delves beneath the fabric as he keeps his lips sealed around you nipple. He purrs and curls his fingers up and down your pelvis. He pushes against your slit and dips between your lips.

He rubs along your cunt and swirls around your clit. You nearly cry out at the shockwaves of his touch. It’s the first time anyone but yourself got that far. You squeeze your eyes shut and hang your head back.

He flicks his finger over your clit. Your thighs quake and your hand combs through his hair. You moan and he hushes you, leaving a wet trail down your skin.

He moves back on his knees and tugs on your panties. He guides them down and taps gently along your thigh. You lift yourself and he rolls them lower. He pulls away to strip them down your legs then quickly inserts himself between them once more.

He bows and breathes over your pelvis. You squirm and push on the cushions. You whisper his name.

“Please...” the last effort to stop him and yourself.

He leans in and presses his nose to your pelvis. He slides his tongue down and glides between your lips. You cover your mouth to keep from squealing.

He traces his fingers along the inside of your thigh and makes a trail up to the crease. As he laps at you, he runs his finger around your entrance. He hums and flows through you. He probes inside of you slowly, pushing his thick digit in to the knuckle.

He turns his hand and bends his finger. He pushes until you feel pressure. You writhe and curl your toes against the floor. You make a fist and bite it. You don’t know if you can handle this.

He draws his finger in and out, his tongue flicks up and down. He groans and you gulp down one of your own. You push your chin down as you fight your racing heart. Your breath shallows and your skin prickles.

He scoops his hand under your ass and dips another finger into you. He shoves them in to his limit and retreats again. His mouth and hand work together, building a maddening tempo. You hiss as your stomach clenches and your muscles wind tight.

You spasm and brace your head as you cum. It’s more intense than anything you’ve felt before. Alone in the dark, ashamed. This is different.

You shove his head, overstimulated as he keeps going. He jams his fingers in as deep as he can as you tremble and twitches around him. He drags his tongue up and smears the wetness on his mouth up your pelvis.

He wipes his fingers on your thigh and sits back on his heels. His eyes gleam at you as you peek out between slitted lids. You heave and stare at him.

“Not done yet,” he takes your hand and stands. He pulls you up on your wobbly legs. You nearly fall against him.

He pets your head then spins you away from him. He points. You follow the gesture to the balcony door. You waver and he nudges you.

“You know what I want.” He growls.

You look down at your naked body. You fold your hands and slouch, shying away from him. He tickles down your neck.

“Go, baby.”

You blink away more tears as your nose tingles. You bite down and obey. You go to the door and pause before it. You hesitate and look back as he drops his pants. You panic and twist the handle.

You go out into the night air if only to escape him. The sight of him is etched into your mind. His body is forged in muscle and that part of him... it looked big. You don’t have much to compare it to.

You look across the street. Cleo’s apartment is dark. She must be out living her life. The door behind you creaks. You feel him before his shadow darkens around you.

He steps up behind you and runs his hand down your arms. He leads your hands to the rail and squeezes them around it. You shiver and whine. He kisses your shoulders.

“Baby, you just need to hold on,” he grits.

He brushes down your sides and the curve of your ass. His touch crawls back to your hips and he moves your feet back. He kicks them wider and pushes until you arch your back.

He steps closer and reaches around you. He pets your pelvis and rubs along your cunt. He spreads your lips and plays with your sensitive clit until you moan. He pushes against your ass and lines himself up with your entrance. You suck in air and stare into the night..

It was easier when it was Cleo. That shame was different. That pain was tolerable.

He inches into you. Your legs shake and you lean against the railing. You groan between your teeth. He urges you down with a hand on your hip and hooks his chin over your shoulder. He turns his head to nuzzle your jaw.

He thrusts and your legs buckle. He tuts and does it again. “Stay on your feet, baby.”

The tears fall again and glaze over the street. The lights turn to blurry orbs and the shadows are nothing but layers of black and grey. His pelvis claps against your ass as he ruts harder with each tilt.

He reaches to the pearl around your neck, his other hand still nestled between your legs as he stirs your nerves to fury. He breathes against your neck and sighs.

“You think someone’s watching us, baby?” He taunts. You whimper and he chuckles smokily. “I hope they are... you’re the star now, huh?”

END

#nick fowler #only yesterday

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