#also i’m sorry for not seeing your ask earlier!!
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༊·˚puppy love༊·˚
pt.1 pt.2
summary: After getting over the initial shock of Megumi's new look, the brainstorming begins!
tags: megumi x f!reader, crack, evil puppy, yaga has a hit on gojo's life,swearing. unedited.
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Part 2 is finaaaaally here! I’m so sorry this took so long, the beginning of 2025 has been quietly chaotic over here at sojumamii inc. I also kept changing my mind on how this chapter was going to go.
But fuck it we ball! I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter! I swear it that part 3 won’t take nearly as long to upload! Please let me know your thoughts and if you have any theories on Megumi’s little predicament!
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"Wow. Oh my god." Shoko's tired eyes widen, her jaw dropped at the sight of three students (well four) and a small ball of fur in your arms.
"I had thought Gojo was kidding when he called, but Megumi's literally...a puppy...." she says blankly her mind unable to process the sight of the usually calm and collected Megumi now turned into a fluffy little dog. She chalked up Gojo's earlier phone call regarding Megumi's curse as just another one of his bad jokes or an elaborate way to waste her time.
Yuji sheepishly rubs the back of head, chuckling nervously at the nurse's shocked gaze, being expressive isn't exactly something Shoko is known for.
You sigh offering the nurse a soft smile,"Trust me I wish he was, any way you can check him out?" you ask, gesturing to Megumi fast asleep in your arms.
Shoko nods,"Hmm..I'm no veterinarian, but lets see. Set him down on the examining table." she states while pulling on her white lab coat.
Gently you lay Megumi's miniature body onto the infirmary bed, scratching at his head with your finger to wake him up,"Hey Gumi, you gotta wake up now we have to let Shoko check you out," you whisper soothingly.
Megumi's dark eyes flutter open at your coaxing, he looks at you with curiosity then sits up on all four legs, yawning cutely with an audible chirp. You coo unable to help finding him so cute as a puppy, especially sleepy and tiny.
"Fushiguro's actually cute as a little mutt when he's not being a yappy rat..." Nobara quips, pursing her lips at the pomeranian in question. Yuji nods but elbows the auburn haired girl nervously," Yeah he's adorable but careful he does bite remember.." making Nobara scoff and roll her eyes, muttering an ‘oh i wish he would' threateningly under her breath.
Shoko laughs at your antics, gently scooping Megumi with one hand up to her chest and checking his heartbeat with the stethoscope she asks the million dollar question even you want to know,"So...how'd he end up like this?"
You turn around to the disaster twins expectantly and raise an eyebrow urging them to answer the question.
"I also want to know, I told them to explain once they got here."
Both students tense up and after a beat of silence, Nobara elbows Yuji, shoving him in front of her. He turns around with an aghast expression of betrayal on his boyish features.
"Thanks alot Kugisaki!" The pink haired boy whines his toned pointed and annoyed.
Both you and Shoko look at them impatiently, making Yuji sigh and clear his throat. Megumi is set down, sitting up on the bed and yips at his two friends as if saying,'stop fooling around!'
"So..." He begins,"We were dispatched on a mission to check out an abandoned pet store that had an intense amount of curses attracted to it, meaning obviously there was either an even stronger curse or cursed object they were drawn to." Yuji takes a deep breath,"And when it turned out to be a grade 1 curse we had to put up an extra fight-" Yuji huffs in exasperation,"It hit Kugisaki pretty hard so when I went to check on her it let out a pretty scary attack and Fushiguro over here jumped in front of it for us while his divine dog dealt the finishing blow and well....was cursed into a puppy..." Yuji trails off, eyeing Megumi's puffy body with a nervous smile.
You and Shoko sigh taking in the information. You lean down to get face to face with your boyfriend, raising an eyebrow your hands on your hips ,"Oh...so you're like this because you decided to play hero." scoffing you continue,"Serves you right, you could've just let totality tank the attack and then all three of you woulda been okay." you pick him up and look him in the eye,"tch...bad boy..."
Megumi thrashes and grumbles, feeling embarrassed to be scolded by you not only in front of everyone...but literally being scolded like a dog.
"Do we know anything else about this curse?" Shoko inquires, observing Megumi in your arms.
Nobara shakes her head,"Not really no," she lets out a sigh,"All we know is that it was a grade 1 and lived in an abandoned pet store, its powers weren't documented. Gojo said he was going to see if Nanami or Yaga could get ahold of any more information. He didn’t even give us much information beforehand either.” she grumbles
Your expression changes into a more serious one,"So it's unknown if the curse has turned others into animals? It's odd that it didn't wear off once the curse got exorcised..." you trail off, unconsciously scratching Megumi's head, making his puffy tail wag furiously as he chases your touch.
Yuji snickers, quietly pointing at Megumi's tiny body going boneless in relaxation.
You look down and laugh at how natural he is as a puppy, cooing as you stroke his fur,"Well it doesn't seem like he minds being like this very much..." you quip. There's a soft bout of laughter in the room when Megumi whips his head back up, snapping back into reality when he feels eyes on him.
The puffy pomeranian jumps out of your arms onto the hospital bed, sneezing indignantly stomping his tiny paws in embarrassment and protest.
As you're about to tease him again, both Yaga and Nanami step into the threshold of the door knocking to announce themselves.
"My god Satoru wasn't joking-the boy's really a damn dog!" Yaga gasps in disbelief removing his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes harshly.
Nanami's breath hitches,"Fushiguro..? I presumed that idiot was just being as foolish as usual…but wow.” the ex-salaryman takes a few steps over to infirmary bed, leaning down to eye level with Megumi, inspecting him,”At the very least, is he alright?”
Megumi lets out a scrappy bark as an answer to his question, unintentionally rumbling in satisfaction when Nanami scratches his head.
“Well he’s healthy and uninjured, and as you saw can understand us” Shoko affirms,”But my reversed curse technique won’t restore him back to normal.”
You look to the principal and Nanami,”Oh right, these two said Gojo was going to see if you guys knew anything about the curse or knew anything about it?”
Yaga sighs in indignation,”When I dispatched that mission for the students I told Satoru everything we had regarding the curse and what had been happening. Either that fool forgot or didn’t care to warn any of you,” his tone is that of frustration, his eyes falling to Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara.
Nanami adds,” Ijichi and myself revisited the sight of the mission and talked to locals in the area to get more information.” he crosses his arms growing serious,”Apparently there have been multiple accounts of people suddenly being turned into puppies and haven’t changed back since.”
All of you gasp Megumi himself tensing up. To calm him down you scoop him into your arms and stroke his fur, your eyes regarding him with worry and empathy,”Oh Gumi…don’t worry…”
“Does that mean Fushiguro’s gonna be like this forever?! There’s gotta be something we can do?!” Yuji exclaims. Everyone looks to the poor puppy in your arms in deep concern.
“Will you all please calm down. You didn’t let me finish.” Nanami sighs,”The curse itself was born from spite and vengeance of...” he closes his eyes, tipping his head back from the ridiculousness of what he’s going to say.
“Nanami come on-“ you urge.
“A puppy.”
There’s a pause, the silence in the room is loud.
“A PUPPY?!” everyone yells in disbelief.
Yaga confirms Nanami’s statement,”That’s correct and it’s PRECISELY what I told Satoru.”
“But how can that be? I thought only a human’s negative emotions could create a curse- how could a dog possibly feel so much it creates a curse?” you shriek, swiftly holding out Megumi to stare at his boxy little face.
Yaga takes a seat in one of the chairs massaging his temple,”Negative emotions are negative emotions regardless of who or what makes them. This puppy had a particular vitriol towards an employee who scolded it once, and also had a dislike towards other dogs that said employee praised and rewarded. Frankly I myself can’t wrap my head around it- nothing like this has ever been seen so far in sorcerer history…” he sighs in resigantion
Everyone is beyond bewildered, how can this be?
“I-I don’t even know what to think…that’s so bizarre…” Shoko stutters out, Nobara nodding in stunned agreement.
“So a curse was born from an anti-social grumpy and jealous puppy…it made a curse that turns people into puppies out of SPITE?” you belabor, under normal circumstances you’d laugh, the puppy sounds like Megumi’s but it’s so ridiculous… and without any knowledge or hindsight not a single one of you can even know if it’s reversible.
“It would seem so…” Nanami confirms, removing his sunglasses, looking at Megumi in your arms with tense concern. Said boy deflates,”A malevolent puppy is a rather farfetched idea..”
Yuji has stayed uncharacteristically quiet. Stuck in serene concentration in the corner of the room, he snaps his fingers perking up suddenly,”WAIT! I got it!”
You all look at him, some in confusion, others expectantly.
“The puppy didn’t get along with other dogs and people right? What if the answer to breaking the curse is getting along and making friends with them!” the pink haired boy concludes with a sparkle of hope in his hazel eyes.
Nanami and Yaga think for a moment, you and Megumi stare at each other in a silent conversation.
“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard-“ Nobara interjects
“He may have a point.” You interrupt,”It makes a lot of sense actually, if the puppy was just mad it had no friends, it’s a very logical conclusion to come to.” you send a grateful sweet smile to your friend,”Thanks, Yuji. This a good place to start.”
The adults in the room nod in agreement. It’s a sound theory, turn a malevolent puppy, into sweet and sociable?
Yuji shyly rubs the back of his head, his face flushed an endearing red,”Ah. W-Well y-you know anything to help out Fushiguro, y’know?”
Megumi not liking the interaction ,lets out a low growl that you can feel in arms. He bares his teeth towards Yuji, making his best friend chuckle nervously. Waving his hands in panic Yuji rapidly defends himself with amusement,”Woah Fushiguro, down boy geez!”
You scoff fondly, covering Megumi’s little face with your palm,”Be nice. That’s what started this whole mess.” making said puppy thrash and grumble until he eventually placates himself.
“It’s a long shot and not guaranteed to change Fushiguro back, but it doesn’t hurt to try while we find something more concrete.” Yaga gets up to stretch,”I trust you can play well with others Fushiguro, you three keep us posted. Shoko keep monitoring his health. Nanami and I will try to double check any records for similar cases.” Both sorcerers make their way out,”Oh and by the way, if you see Satoru, let him know my fist is waiting to meet him upside the head.”
All four of you chuckle amusedly, silently hoping you can get a front row seat to Gojo’s ass beating.
You hold Megumi up to look him mischievously in his large dark eyes,”Well well Guuuumi,” you say sing-songy,”Looks like the day I’ve been waiting for is finally here!” Megumi grumbles with a whine, knowing exactly what you’re getting at.
‘Guuumi can I please put blush on you?! You’d look soo cuute!’
‘Gumi can I put on these hair clips on you!? They’re Baditzmaru! He looks just like you!’
‘Pleaaaase your lashes are so pretty, it would be a waste to not put on eye glitter!.
‘God damn it...’ Megumi thinks as he flashes back to all the times you’ve turned him into your personal doll, though 90% of the time he indulges you because he can’t resist the bright sparkle in your wide eyes, and the sweet pouty look on your face or the convincing lilt in your voice that tugs at his heartstrings. But now
Now you have completely free reign.
“You’re gonna be the cutest dog in the park! Everyone will be flocking to be your friend!” you beam, cooing as you press little kisses to his face.
“You guys ready?” you turn to your friends with an excited determination.
Yuji and Nobara match your expression, pumping their fists in the air,”Operation turn Fushiguro is a go!”
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Requests are open!
Bye for now! <3
tags: @kxllanxtdoor
#puppy love! megumi#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi fluff#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader
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GRE today…..
#456 words#it’s optional for most things I’m applying to but. my grades are not amazing for the level I’m applying#so in my case taking the gre is a good idea if I can do really well#which#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#we will see#I did a practice test and sone practice problems and such and I do fine#but I would like a higher percentile in quantitative than my practices have projected#hopefully having practiced and being in a proper test environment will help push it up a few more points#also it’s like. 50/50 rn on whether I can finish the essay in 30 mins#ive gotten it closer each time I practice but#woof. hard to cleanly articulate a point you don’t know ahead of time in 30 mins#but yeah ideally I do well enough that I can send scores and they will help rather than harm#that’s all I ask. I could maybe take it again but would rather not have to spend another 250#we shall see#at least it’s not the time I took the mcat w only 2 weeks prep#and its also not the mcat#mcat has No fucking reason to be that long#that’s not a cognitive test or a content test it is an endurance test#I know gre used to be longer (like 4 hours?????) but. still#mcat was like 7 iirc#GRE is 2 hours which is a normal fucking amount of time for a test methinks#though ngl it’s a bitch that the hardest sections are at the end#well I guess that’s. a good sign actually????#bc iirc it modulates what you get on the last two sections based on your earlier performance#so the fact it gets harder means I’m doing well early on#but still………..#anyway I’m rambling#pre test thoughts I guess#don’t expect anyone to read this really and if you did sorry this is. probably entirely uninteresting
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January 2024: well, I can’t get my antidepressants anymore and this withdrawal makes me want to kill myself. From now on I’ll just raw dog these feelings so I never have to deal with these side effects again.
June 2024: I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. The world is ending. We’re all walking through the end times and whether I die soon or the world collapses in on itself, I can feel the simultaneous emptiness and crushing weight of the end. There is nothing.
#this isn’t really funny is it?#anyway so yeah going back to the dr tomorrow to ask for antidepressants#which ones I don’t know. I’ve been on so many that I don’t know if anything really works#THIS IS NOT A SOLUTION FOR EVERYONE. THIS IS JUST ME. I NEED TO BE MEDICATED. I LOVE YOU. DO WHAT WORKS FOR YOU.#a whole nothingburger of a roadblock hit me earlier and I ended up having to sit outside for an hour#basically ‘hey can you maybe go to your appt a bit earler just in case they can see you sooner’ and I was like… why bother w/ ANYTHING!#one of those stupid things that’s so easy to work with in retrospect but at the time I honestly felt so hopeless and pushed around#what a fucking baby#anxiety and depression can just turn you into a fucking baby#I SAY THIS SO EMPATHETICLY! You are NOT a baby! your brain just doesn’t work right! I’m so sorry we gotta deal with this.#some people don’t need meds. some do. this post is about me. my chemicals have been caustic for years. I gotta balance the humors my liege#so basically I’ve been antidepressant free since mid jan. it’s sucked. it’s getting WOOOOORSE.#so as much as I hate adjusting to new meds. as much as I say ‘I don’t notice a difference’#about that. THIS is the difference you dumb bitch (me)!#I’ll be on meds and kinda mehhhh. but this. without meds. I’ll take meh and functional over months of meh and then suddenly DEATH!#I’m not in a position where I can just go out and get a bunch of healthy food and go work out and change my environment and blah blah blah#I’m poor and disabled boy!#but god… I know there’s more I could reasonably do. I know. I don’t need suggestions. I’m sorry. to myself and everyone I’m annoying.#just… for right now. for this week. let me try to rebalance.#I got some antianxieties to last a week maybe but they’re not cure-alls.#I wish I could say oh I popped an Ativan and I felt so good but NO! it makes me sleepy and a bit calmer and it’s NOT sustainable!#I can’t be drowsy all day long. I definitely CAN’T handle a benzo problem. fuck I am always worried about withdrawals with this stuff.#oh dang. I’ve just been sitting here rambling for maybe half an hour now in my little chair. doofus.#okay sorry to bother you#I love you and I love you and also I love you#you can ignore this#text
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★ observing rafe cameron x reader
summary: you were trying everything to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at rafe, unbeknownst to you - he was secretly hoping you were
a/n: this is a surfer!rafe x shy!reader btw!! also this is like pretty much my first ever fanfic so I have no idea what the fuck I am doing so sorry if this is literal ass 😭 no mention of a fem!reader besides the fact that the womans bathroom gets entered
you felt the heat of the sun on your skin as you stepped out of the twinkie. the soft crash of the distant waves barely audible over the hum of the pogues voices
stepping onto the beach, a surge of excitement hits you. the day you and the pogues have been counting down to all week has finally arrived
you take one final glance into your bag, double-checking for anything you might have forgotten—sunscreen, snacks, a book, and a few other trinkets, satisfied you make your way over to your usual spot ready to take off your tshirt and shorts which hid your swim wear underneath, until you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye
rafe cameron
somehow the kooks had managed to pick the exact same date, place and time to visit the beach as you and your friends
while the others were hastly running towards the water stripping on the way down, paying no attention to the kooks, kie stayed back waiting for you
she was already in her bikini while your clothes weren’t even close to leaving your body and landing on the ground
''you coming?'' she asked, hand on her forehead shielding her from the burning sun
''umm'', taking a quick glance around you searched the beach in a, hopefully, unsuspicious way trying to locate rafe again
glancing down you turned your gaze elsewhere, you hoped the sudden heat entering your body was from the sun and not from the sight of rafe taking his shirt off
''I’ll join you guys later, I’m a little dizzy right now'', you spoke swiftly looking up at her, hoping to not get caught in the little white lie
all though kie nodded, the flicker of confusion in her eyes and a quick look behind you told you all you needed to know
you had never verbally stated your attraction to the him but you were pretty sure almost anybody could’ve guessed with the way you tensed up or seemed quieter and clumsier whenever he was in close proximity
taking off your top and shorts you shot a look over to the pogues who were already splashing and practically drowning each other. you giggled while settling down onto your beach towel before applying sunscreen and laying down on your stomach with a book in hand
even though your book was very interesting, the sight in front of you was much more enticing
rafe was currently riding a pretty common wave, yet you found yourself unable to stop staring
you adjusted your book hoping to hide the fact that you were practically ogling at the cameron boy
he was far enough out that you couldn’t make out the details but you still caught the way his hair stuck to his face, the way his body twisted with the rythm of the wave and the way he… kept turning his head towards you?
it seemed like he was looking for you, looking to see if you were watching him
cheeks burning, you try to push your delusions aside trying to find the passage you were reading earlier
you take another peek at him and by the the time you do, he was already out of the water, walking towards his friends with the biggest fucking grin, beaming with pride and confidence, already seeming to rave about the wave he just rode
hearing jj’s laugh you swiftly adjust and pretend to be reading your book that was definitely more interesting than staring at rafe’s wet body and stupid grin
while jj kept whining about how john b, supposedly, almost drowned him they both settled down on your left, luckily on the side where the kooks were lounging
fortunately he also kept talking which meant you were able to peep right past his face and steal short glances towards rafe
it was almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter where you would see him, you were always stealing glances or simply staring at him from a distance. others could call this stalking but you liked to call it observing, you liked watching him, but not in a creepy way, more so you were admiring him, he was pretty
you liked his side profile, the way his bangs framed his face, the way his eyes looked in the sun, the way his shirts hung onto his fit body - you noticed the way he was very articulate with his hands, which were always adorned with the same two rings, the way the corner of his lips turned downwards whenever he tried not to smile
noticing him facing you, eyeing your group, the staring quickly stopped
at this point the distance between the two groups was too small for your liking because of course the kooks had to settle down as closely as possible to the pogues - it was somehow impossible for them to keep their distance
given the short distance, whenever you actually were brave enough to look again it seemed like he was meeting your gaze, trying to maintain eye contact
heart beating way too fast and cheeks burning, you turn away from jj trying to initiate a conversation with sarah, who was sitting on your right
after a while of, luckily, managing to keep your head from spinning towards him, to meet his gaze - aside from the occasional looks to jj or john b whenever they were contributing to the conversation - you were desperate to get up, to empty your bladder
you dreaded getting up, fully aware that the beach bar was situated just behind the kooks, it meant walking past rafe and the mere thought of that unnerved you - every step would make you acutely aware of your surroundings, mind racing, until the very thought of moving felt like it might turn your legs into jelly
examining the scene quickly you notice half of the kooks gone, including rafe, they must’ve left when you weren’t looking - you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders while also immediately feeling a certain misery overtaking you
this unrequited crush was spiraling out of control
strutting over to the bar you take notice of ruthie with another girl sitting at one of the tables and kelce talking to the bartender seeming to be cracking jokes instead of ordering
walking past them you try to keep your gaze relatively low to avoid any sort of interaction. turning into the small hallway of the bar you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding
the calmness doesn’t last long because as you round the corner to reach the toilets you spot him, standing in front of the mens bathroom, phone in hand and looking quite bored
before you get the chance to look away he lifts his head and notices you, he smiles - you smile back, a very awkward smile
relatively quickly you turn your head away and enter the women’s bathroom. your head becoming a blur, suddenly already washing your hands ready to leave the bathroom
he must’ve left already, right?
''topper are you fucking coming, man?!'', you catch rafe through the door
your plan of immediately leaving and paying him no mind, began to falter two seconds after stepping out of the bathroom
''hey, y/n'', you hear from behind you, shit
you freeze up for a second, caught off guard, before composing yourself and turning around
immediately drawn to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had dried in quite a messy way, his slightly squinted eyes and the slight smirk splayed across his face
''how are you?'' he questions before you had the chance to greet him back
''I’m doing fine'', you manage to exclaim, nearly tripping over your words before adding the usual ''and you?''
you dig in your mind trying to recall the last time you’d exchanged words beyond the usual "hi" or "hey''
''ditto'',
apparently not completely satisified with your answer, he regards you for a moment, the stare causing a warmth to creep up your neck as you shifted uneasily
''why did your friends leave you all alone over there?'', rafe inquired with a raised brow - a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''they seemed to be enjoying themeselves''
letting out a soft exhale you answer him, attempting to maintain eye contact but faltering almost immediately, ''I wasn’t feeling so good'' was all you manage to muster before adding the word, ''dizzy'' in a rather whispered voice, as you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t see through it
if he did, he didn’t let on ''are you feeling better now?’'
you nod quickly, meeting his gaze
looking up at him with those almost innocent eyes, he can’t help but offer, ''are you sure? I can get you a glass of water'', an unrecognisable sweetness laced his voice, softening his usual edge
taken aback by his unexpected offer you hesitate before denying his offer by simply shaking your head
he let out a quiet snort, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you struggle to give a simple answer
''what book were you reading?'', he asked, his smirk widening as he leaned further back into the wall, clearly amused at the way the conversation was turning into a playful interrogation, as if he found some strange satisfaction in making you squirm just a little bit
you froze, your mind going blank, searching for the title before realising you genuinely couldn’t remember, maybe because you weren’t actually reading the book
like a savior, topper emerged from the bathroom, a flicker of confusion passing across his face as he scanned the scene before moving past you both, muttering a quiet "let’s go," clearly directed at rafe
for a split second, it looked like frustration crossed rafe’s face, fleeting before you could overthink it, flashing you a smile he pushed himself off the wall and made his way past you
but before he completely disappeared out of view, he turned back with a smirk and called over his shoulder,
''hope you enjoyed the show earlier''
oh
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe fic#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks x reader#obx x reader#obx#outer banks#outer banks season 4#x reader#fluff#fluff x reader#lexcys ★
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Golf day || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: INSPIRED BY THIS TIKTOK
Warnings: pure fluff hehehehe
Word count: 497
A/n: if anyone has any tiktoks that they want me to turn into a Rafe fic, send them thru pls!!!! I love finding random vids on my fyp that are so Rafe coded. ALSO BEGGING FOR MORE DAD!RAFE REQUESTSS
MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)
divider by @h-aewo
“Do you think she’ll enjoy it?” Rafe questions, turning his head to you, his eyes lingering on Mabel, comfortably nestled on your lap. He looks genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed with worry.
“You know she loves watching you do anything,” you reply with a reassuring chuckle, trying to soothe his anxiety. As you adjust the tiny hat on your daughter’s head, you can’t help but smile at her innocent excitement.
It was Mabel’s first time at the golf course, and Rafe had been on edge all morning. He’d peppered you with questions like, “Don’t you think it will be too hot?” and “What if she gets bored?” His nervousness was palpable, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor.
You had spent the morning reassuring him, reminding him repeatedly that Mabel would be perfectly fine. You knew she would be thrilled just to watch her dad play golf, her eyes following his every move with awe and admiration.
“Do you think she’ll like this spot?” Rafe asks as the golf cart comes to a gentle stop under the shade of a large oak tree. “Babe, you’re the one playing,” you giggle, enjoying his overprotectiveness. Rafe laughs softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Mabel, do you like it here?” he asks, his voice tender as he tickles her chin. Mabel responds with a delightful giggle that melts your heart.
You adjust Mabel on your lap so she’s facing Rafe, her wide, curious eyes tracking his every move as he unloads his golf clubs. The sun casts a warm glow over the course, and you can’t help but admire how handsome Rafe looks in his golf gear. “Doesn’t Daddy look so handsome, Bels?” you murmur to Mabel, pressing light kisses on her rosy cheeks. She giggles uncontrollably and tickling sensation.
Rafe turns at the sound of her infectious giggles, a broad smile lighting up his face. “You girls doing alright?” he calls out, his eyes sparkling with joy. You chuckle, giving him a thumbs-up and lifting Mabel’s tiny hand to wave at him.
Remembering that Rose wanted a video of Mabel’s first time at the golf course, you quickly pull out your phone and aim the camera at Mabel’s expressive face. She’s watching Rafe intently, her anticipation palpable.
As Rafe lines up his shot, you can see the concentration etched on his face. The moment the club makes contact with the golf ball, sending it soaring through the air, Mabel flinches in surprise. You can’t help but laugh, immediately clamping your hand over your mouth, feeling a bit guilty for laughing at her reaction.
Rafe shields his eyes with his hand, squinting into the distance to see where the ball landed. Satisfied with his shot, he turns back and walks towards you and Mabel, a broad smile lighting up his face. “Daddy’s pretty good, isn’t he?” Rafe chuckles as he reaches you, gently lifting Mabel from under her armpits and pressing a loving kiss on her round cheek.
You quickly snap a photo of the sweet moment. Their joy is infectious, and you can’t help but chuckle as you send the video and picture to Rose. Mabel’s earlier reaction to the sound of Rafe hitting the ball plays in your mind, making you smile.
Rafe notices your amusement. “What’s so funny?” he asks, his curiosity piqued as he sees you smiling at your phone. You glance up, grinning, and show him the video of Mabel’s startled reaction to his golf swing.
“Aww, I’m sorry, babygirl,” Rafe says with a laugh, his eyes softening as he watches the video. “I’ll let you know when I’m going to hit the ball next time.” Mabel, already captivated by her dad’s presence, giggles and reaches out to touch his face, her earlier surprise forgotten.
Rafe’s heart melts as he cradles Mabel in his arms, swaying gently. “You’re my good luck charm, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice filled with love. Mabel coos in response, her tiny hands grasping at Rafe’s shirt.
#drew starkey#rafe cameron#fanfiction#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#obx fanfiction#dad!rafe cameron#dad!rafe#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x smut#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x oc#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks#outer banks x reader#outer banks x you#outer banks x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x oc#outer banks au#rafe cameron au
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never ending night
bruce wayne x femwife!reader
word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!
CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.
It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.
“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.
The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.
“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.
“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.
“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.
“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”
“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”
Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.
“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.
“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”
“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.
You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.
“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.
“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.
“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.
You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.
“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.
“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.
“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.
“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.
“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.
“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.
Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.
“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”
“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.
“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”
You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.
“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”
“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.
“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.
“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.
Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”
You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.
As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.
At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.
He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.
As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.
But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.
So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.
Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.
#ailis writes#requests are open#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x wife!reader#bruce wayne x you#batman#batman x reader#batman x fem!reader#batman x wife!reader#batman comics#christian bale batman#battinson#bruce wayne fic#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne fanfiction#bruce wayne fluff#batman x y/n#batman imagine#batman fic#batman fanfiction#batman fluff#batmom#reader insert#x reader#fem reader
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the secret wife
- nanami kento x reader
follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!
genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is
note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')
general masterlist
On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...
“Hello? Yuji—”
Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.
“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”
Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.
“Oh? What's—”
“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”
And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—
—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.
“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.
Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...
Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.
And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.
“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.
One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.
“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”
And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.
But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.
And did he feel so miserable afterwards.
. . .
“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”
Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.
"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."
"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"
"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."
And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”
"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"
"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"
Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—
"I'm going after them!"
"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"
Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.
Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.
Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.
The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.
"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.
"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"
Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.
"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"
"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"
Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"
With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?
Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"
And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."
"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.
"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"
After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.
"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"
"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"
"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.
"Eh? Huh!?"
Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—
Crash!
"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.
"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"
"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"
"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.
Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."
"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.
Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"
For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.
It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.
Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"
Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.
“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”
“S-so you are married!”
“Yes, that was what I—”
“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”
Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.
Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”
“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”
“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.
"Aren't we friends?! How—!"
"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.
Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.
Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.
"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"
"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.
Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.
There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.
"Gojo," Megumi blurted.
"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.
Epilogue
"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"
That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.
"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"
You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."
Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."
"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."
"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.
"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”
Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.
"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"
"People like Gojo are confused—"
Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."
#nanami kento x reader#jjk fluff#nanami x reader#jjk x reader#kento nanami x reader#nanami kento#jjk x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#nanami kento fluff#kento nanami#jujutsu kaisen#kento nanami x you#nanami fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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pretty boy; bloody nose
fem!reader x bangchan
synopsis: you're a doctor at a hospital where Chan comes after a fight.
warnings: 🔞!!! boxer!chan, blood, broken bones, bruises, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding if you squint, 'pretty girl' used once, choking (m!rec), prob forgot some sorry
wc: 4k
an: all the photos of chan at or for the Fendi show have me gagged lol feedback is appreciated!! :)) [m.list] check out my other chan fic :)) [am/pm]
It was your starting shift when Chan came in. clutching his bloody nose with one bruised hand and pressing his other one to his wounded side. “my savior,” he smiled, dimpled cheek prominent even through the pain. He had blood in his mouth, teeth tinted pink with it.
“Someone had a good night,” you laugh flipping open his chart, “says some minor pain but you seem to have lied seeing as you are currently bleeding right in front of me and you didn’t log it,”
“my nose is fine, it was checked out by my coach, it should stop bleeding soon,” the rag he has to his face soaked through with red. “and I’m not a liar it’s only a bit painful and I wouldn’t have come in if I wasn’t contractually supposed to,”
“uh huh,” you nod, tapping your pen against the clipboard you held. “So your nose doesn’t need to be set because your coach, who may or may not have any medical background, said so?”
his smile widened and the cut on his eyebrow started to leak again from the movement. “exactly,”
“and I don’t need to see what you’re hiding right there,” you point with your pen to his fingers cupping his hip.
“nope, I’m mainly a bit sore around the arms, so minor pain. I am not a liar,” he shrugs and you let yourself fully take him in past his injuries. He's slouched back against the hospital bed, his white tank splattered with his blood, gray sweatpants slouchy on his hips. if you could see his whole face without his hand in the way you’re sure he’s gorgeous essentially with a smile like that. what you didn’t like was to watch someone's cocky ass waltz in and say they aren’t hurt when it’s obvious they are.
“well I am also contractually obligated to give you the best care I can offer and as your doctor, I’m here to say I can’t let you go without an exam,”
“full body?” his tongue running across his teeth as you roll your eyes. it wasn’t exactly professional to let your annoyance show but you didn’t think he would run and tell someone.
“let's start with your nose,” you turn placing your clipboard down and picking up a pair of gloves, “lean your head back,”
Chan follows your orders as you walk around the bed to his side.
“How did you end up here?” you ask, lifting the rag from his face. His nose wasn’t bleeding as much as it must have been earlier but it was still messy. And even with blood smeared all over, he was one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen especially as he grinned up at you.
“fighting,” he shrugs.
“Is this the part where you tell me that I should see the other guy?” you reach over to grab some clean gauze before cleaning up his upper lip.
“Maybe,” he dragged out the word, the smile as flirty as ever.
you lightly press your finger to his nose to check if it’s broken but only feel a little swelling. “keep your head back to stop the bleeding. let's now see your side and then we will tape up your eyebrow,”
“I’m perfectly fine,”
“Not unless I say you are, come on let me see,”
Chan is slow to lift his shirt but when he does his side is covered in deep purple bruises. “you're going in for a CT,”
“what? no, I'm fine it was a few hits nothing I haven't felt before,”
“better safe than sorry I'm sure you've heard that saying before. next time don't go getting into fights,”
“It's kinda my job,”
“pretty boys like you shouldn't be fighters, and they shouldn't be putting their perfectly healthy bodies in distress, we need to check for any internal bleeding,” you peel your gloves off tossing them in the bin along with any bloodied gauze, chan's head still laid back as he watches you, “a nurse will be in to take care of your eyebrow and take you for the CT,” you pick up his chart, penning in the request.
“You're not going to take me?”
“I'll be back in to discuss the results it shouldn't be too long a wait it's slow tonight,” you didn't look up from his chart as you said it but you did when he said, “I want you to take me,” it's not suggestive in any way but the way that he says it is, deep and throaty like an invitation. his head lobbed to one side watching you, eyes leaving a trail of heat up your body as they trace your figure.
“I will see you after your results come back,” you say, rushing to get out as fast as possible. it was frowned upon to flirt with patients no matter how hot they looked or how willing they seemed to flirt back. you went on your rounds before getting Chan's results, the nurse bringing them to you with a smile.
“he will not stop talking about you,”
“What?” but you can feel your heart thumping all of a sudden.
“asking questions and whatnot,” she giggles as you pull out his scans. “Does she usually work Thursdays? Is she seeing someone? going on and on,”
“about me?” You're a little shocked but trying to play it off.
“if you don't give him your number I will hand mine over,”
“We cannot give our numbers out to patients,” but your blush is hot on your face. who would know you gave him your number? no one. “we will both be out shortly please have his discharge paperwork ready,”
“Should I put your number on it?” she jokes and you roll your eyes before pushing his room door open.
“no internal bleeding,” you say once you close the door. “but you should ice your side the swelling will go down soon,”
“I told you nothing was wrong, he couldn’t hit hard enough to cause internal bleeding anyways,” Chans sitting up now with his legs off the bed.
“you should be getting checked regularly for damage that is visible, especially if you have pain,”
“It was only a little pain,” he rolls his shoulders back making his tank top stick to his pecks.
“you should take an over the counter pain med and then try to avoid fighting,”
“Now where’s the fun in that? if I hadn’t been sent here I wouldn’t have met you,” dimples on display just for you.
“uh huh sure,” you wave at him to stand, “Let's get you out of here before you steal the hearts of the nurses,”
“the only heart I’m interested in is yours,” it’s cheesy but you can’t help the smile it gives you. “Let's go,” you laugh, pulling open the door for him. when he walks out he turns to face you moving backwards.
“if I got into another fight would I be able to ask for you specifically or would you need to give me a number to hold onto just in case?”
“flirty and shameless,” you say, walking him to the front desk to check out.
“that did not answer my question,”
“I’m sure you could find me in the hospital directory if you looked hard enough,”
“and if you’re not working? will it go straight to voicemail or will I somehow be able to get you over to take care of me?”
“for someone who didn’t need my help at all for his little bit of pain, he sure is worried for his safety now,”
“I was told by a gorgeous doctor that I should be concerned with putting my perfect body and pretty face in the line of fire,”
“I said you had a perfectly healthy body,” you shake your head at him.
“You did say my face was pretty tough,” he leans against the desk elbow propped up to the perfect height to flex. “And I'm sure I can show you how perfect my body can be,”
“goodbye Chan,” you wave your fingers in his direction walking away before you embarrass yourself in front of your coworkers.
-
It's only a week later when you see Chan's chart in front of you again. “This one was asking for you by name,” the nurse comments.
“of course he was,” but even as you say the words you can't help but feel the fluttering in your stomach. most people who came in you didn't see again and if they flirted you were happy to see them gone but Chan wasn't making you feel that way.
he was alone in his room when you went in. laid out on the bed with his hand to his nose. It was like deja vu only now his tank was black instead of white. blood dripping down to his lips that smile directed at your heart. his eyebrow looked better but was still slightly discolored from last week.
“I think this time it's broken,” but he's not showing any pain if it's the truth.
“your nose again? you’re too pretty to be taking punches to the face,” you pull on a pair of gloves walking over to inspect him.
“That's why they do it, they are jealous,” he lifts away the gauze the nurse must have given him.
His nose is clearly broken and needs to be set. you press your finger lightly to the bridge checking out the bone. Chan's eyes flutter shut and he lets out a weak moan, so soft that you probably wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close to his face. you try to ignore the sound feeling along his cheekbones but when you press to the corner of his eye he lets out another soft whine.
“I'm going to have to reset it,” you say pulling your hands away from him, “you can set up an appointment-“
“can't you just do it now? I don't think I'll need all the fuss of local anesthetic i think I can handle it,”
“It's going to hurt,”
“it didn't hurt much when I was hit I'm sure it won't be too bad the other way around,”
“You know it's okay to admit when it's painful,” you say, prodding again at his nose, he gives another soft moan at the touch, shifting his hips and leaning further back.
“I like it, so even when it's a little painful I don't mind,”
you move to grab a splint for his nose before preparing him, “I'll be quick so you shouldn't feel much but it will still hurt,” this wasn't the first time you've had to fix someone's broken nose but it would be the first time you were worried about messing up someone's face. you had full trust in your abilities but your anxiety was not helping.
Chan crossed his arms nodding before you pressed the heel of your palm to his nose, “Deep breath,” he followed your instructions and without warning you reset his nose. He flinched knuckles bleached from holding on so tight to himself, moaning as you pulled your hands back. you grabbed the split to finish the job, “see quick and easy,” his voice thick before he clears it. “I think I need a minute,”
“I can get something for the pain real fast,” you say tugging off your gloves already moving to get the meds.
“no no I don't need that, I just need a second,” his head is leaned back, throat exposed, arms still crossed while he shifts his hips again drawing your attention to his waist. you can clearly see the outline of his hard bulge through his gray sweatpants.
“Oh!” you turn around fast to try and give him some form of privacy feeling your face get hot. “I um- I'll just-“ you cut yourself off picking up his chart and moving to the door. you close the door as he tries to say something but you’re already down the hall trying not to think about what you saw. you don’t really care it’s not the first time you’ve seen someone turned on in the hospital although all the other times you rolled your eyes. Now you’re stuttering and trying not to think of Chan in a way that could get you into trouble.
but it’s all you can think about.
how long would he need? would he be actively trying to get rid of his problem mentally or physically? what would have happened if you had stayed? would it have been beyond awkward or would you officially have to resign for having sex while on shift?
you give Chan's chart to another doctor to check over your work and send him off. you didn’t want to go in and embarrass him or embarrass yourself for that matter. so you hid like a coward.
-
it was a rare night off for you and you took the opportunity to spend it with your old friends.
at a nightclub on a busy strip downtown your friends decide to bar hop. you had a late shift tomorrow anyway and didn’t care about sleeping in. At the third bar, your friend's boyfriend starts talking about a fight happening across the street. “the guy's undefeated I swear I just wanna see the end,”
“If you’re dragging us along you’re paying the entrance fee,” your friend says before another pipes up, “and a drink each!”
“Fine, fine let’s go, it's already started!” all of you rush across the street joining the moving queue as people file into the building.
You can hear the cheering already, the announcer shouting over the speakers, your shoes sticking to the floor as if you were still at the bar. but this is far from it, people are jostling each other around, and the seats all first come already full. it’s not until you’re making your way up the steps of the bleachers that you see who’s in the ring.
Chan is shirtless and glistening with sweat, hair stuck down across his forehead, lip bleeding around his mouth guard. muscles rippling as he delivers a blow to his opponent.
you’re almost shocked still and unmoving in your walk up to a seat. someone behind you tries to move past you and you stumble, unaware of your surroundings.
Chan doesn’t know why he looks up because he always tries to focus solely on the person in front of him determined to beat him. but he does let his eyes flicker up to the stands to see you apologizing to someone moving past you. He's caught off guard by your presence and the right hook that makes his head snap away from you.
the crowd shouts in disapproval as you take your seat. Chan is now bleeding from his nose like every other time you’ve seen him. The droplets of blood fell to his toned stomach each breath pushing the trail of blood further down.
you’ve never been into fighting, not watching or participating but now you’re fully invested. you don’t even want a drink when your friends ask if you need anything. your eyes follow Chan as he delivers hit after hit to the man in front of him. and when they call a winner you’re up out of
your seat cheering along with the rest of the watchers.
“omg is he looking at us? I swear he’s looking right at us,” your friend laughs next to you.
Chan is in fact looking up the stands at you. That dimpled smile on full display after he’s taken his mouth guard out. when he sees you looking back he mouths ‘Wait for me’ and you’re putty. you don’t even try to think that he could have been talking to someone else because you’re delusional enough not to give a fuck.
when you make it down to where Chan is signing autographs you’re a little nervous after how you left things. but that goes away when he grins, split lip reopening. “my favorite medical professional,”
“I thought I warned you not to get your pretty face in the way of someone’s fist?”
“How else am I supposed to see you if I don’t come in needing your assistance?”
the crowd around you is clearing and you’ve already told your friends not to wait on you so when Chan asks, “Can we talk?” nodding his head in the direction of the locker rooms, you don’t turn him down.
He leads you to the hallway just out of the way from everyone else. “I wanted to apologize for the last time I saw you,”
“no no, I should apologize I shouldn’t have given you someone else to work with,”
“no really I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable I swear I was trying really hard not to have any kind of reaction I just-“
“It's okay truly I wasn’t uncomfortable it’s natural although I've never reset someone’s bones and had that happen-“
“I'm sorry,” he chuckles, rubbing at the back of his neck, arm flexing and you realize he’s still shirtless. all finely toned muscles on display the damp towel used to wipe away any blood and sweat thrown over his shoulder. but a spot of blood had been missed right at the band of his shorts. without thinking you reached out to brush it away with your thumb.
Chan and you stood frozen, his breath shallow as he watched your finger wipe at his skin just low enough to send a shiver down his spine.
“Are you doing anything else tonight?” he asks when you pull away.
“you were just in a fight and you still want to go out?”
“with you? yes. With anyone else? no,” you’re standing close together and when someone walks past to reach the locker room door Chan moves in blocking you against the wall. your hand comes up and rests on his ribs, his bruises gone from his first visit only now to be replaced with fresh ones.
he’s leaning down close to you as another person moves around you two to enter the locker room. Chan's breath fanning your ear before he whispers, “We don’t have to go out, we could stay in…”
he technically was not your patient, you weren’t at work and you weren’t obligated to deny yourself anymore. not when Chan was standing here willing and you were wet from just watching him win his match.
“Okay,” your voice was low and weak but all the confirmation Chan needed to pull you along after him.
past the locker rooms are a few offices and Chan knows there’s a secluded restroom right by there. you don’t even think twice as he shuts the door behind you locking it. you’re both on each other the second Chan turns around. hot and heavy kisses down your neck and over your collar as Chan palms your ass over your short skirt. your hands tugging at his hair but not the way Chan likes, “harder,” he breathes between kisses, “I want it to hurt,” and when you do his moan is music to your ears.
Chan walks you back into the wall pressing you against the tile next to the sink.
“When I thought about fucking you I never imagined you dressed like this,” Chan lifts your leg to his hip, hot hand running under your thigh and up under your skirt.
“disappointed we can’t play doctor?”
“I don’t care as long as I finally get to have you,” Chan's free hand slides up under
your shirt palming you over your bra. his mouth is back on yours as he wedges his knee between your legs. his thigh placed right against your clothed clit.
Chan's hand fits right in the pit between your hip and thigh, fingers digging in as he pulls you forward on his thigh.
your hips start to move against him, moaning into his mouth as you rock back and forth against him. “My pretty girl wants me so bad,” he breathes, planting kisses down your jaw. “I can already feel how wet you are for me,”
with anyone else you would have been embarrassed about how needy you were but you didn’t care with Chan. not when he had been on your mind for weeks now, when every time you got off recently you had been imagining Chan's fingers doing the job instead of your own.
Chan taps your other leg muttering, “Jump,” and you follow his orders, Chan moving to set you down on the sink’s countertop. He pulls away, hooking his fingers in your panties and tugging them down your legs. He stays on his knees leaning over to kiss you on your inner thigh. you tug off your shirt tossing it on the counter next to you.
you cup Chan's jaw letting your thumb run over his bruised bottom lip, your finger moves over his nose brushing down the slope. Chan's smile is lazy, his gaze pouring over you. “you’re healing nicely,”
“to have your hands all over me I’d make a million more visits, and,” he lifts himself until his lips are brushing yours, “I love the pain,”
you slip your hand into the waistband of Chan's shorts wrapping your fingers around his stiff length. He moans loudly against your cheek as you stroke him. Chan's hand pushes under your skirt pressing his thumb into your clit, circling slowly.
“I can’t wait anymore,” Chan grunts pushing your skirt up higher around your hips, dragging you closer to the edge of the counter before you remove your hands from his already leaking cock.
Chan pushes down his pants to free himself before he’s lining up with your entrance.
he doesn’t hesitate to thrust in fully pressing his pelvis to yours. both of you moan out your arms wrapping around his shoulders. chan inches out before slowly pushing back in. You whine, laying your head back until it’s laid against the mirror.
you wrap one of your hands around Chan's neck, “is this okay?”
Chan nods, “Harder please harder,” you squeeze enough to make his eyes flutter, the same way they had when you were back in the hospital fixing his nose, his hips finally picking up pace. every drag of his cock makes a bolt travel down from your spine to your knees. your back arching, Chan drags his teeth down your throat.
your free hand scratches down Chan's back and you move your hips to meet his, trying to build any friction.
“you feel so deep,” your voice not sounding like you as Chan angels himself up brushing against your g-spot. your legs wrapped around him shake at the contact, your walls squeezing around his cock.
“I wanna hear you cum for me,” Chan moves his fingers between you rubbing your clit until you see spots, knowing exactly what you needed.
Chan picks up his thrusting pace, punishing you with his cock, tip pressed right against the deepest part of you. “cum inside me please,” you beg, your nails usually nicely kept for work scratching him like they weren’t shortened.
His thrusts falter at your words, his moan in your hair loud and echoing in the small room. “please I want it, I want to feel it,” your fingers around his throat give a squeeze and Chan knows he won’t be able to deny you.
with a few sloppy thrusts, Chan is coming hard enough that his upper half gives out, laying on you. your hands leaving his throat and twisting in his hair as he shoots out ropes of hot cum inside you, hips jerking.
The feeling of his release and his fingers on your clit send you over the edge, your legs locking around him as you cry out his name. Chan's slow thrusts help you ride out your high. both of you panting arms wrapped around each other not wanting to let the other go.
clarity starts to set in as you catch your breath, your hair sticking to the back of
your neck. chan pulls out, the slick sound making you pulse around nothing. Chan watches as your combined cum slides out. He lifts your leg under your thigh using his thumb to spread your pussy lips apart watching as more comes out. “Next time I’m at the hospital I won't be able to forget this,” he drags his thumb up to your clit making you jump. spreading the slick around, “I might even ask for you to treat me this well again,”
#bangchan x reader#bangchan smut#bang chan#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids bang chan#changbin#hyunjin#lee felix#lee know#i.n skz#seungmin#kpop smut#skzsmut#han jisung#chan x reader#skz bang chan
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tlp xmas special — jjk (m.)
hello awrkive nation!!! its late but merry christmas to those who celebrate!! sorry for being ia but heres a christmas gift from me to you 🫣 first of all i genuinely forgot abt the car s*x drabble that won that poll i made a few weeks ago which i promised you guys ISHDJDJ but here it is!! this drabble combines all of these three recurring requests for the tlp couple and this might also be the last drabble im doing for them (for now??) so do enjoy!!
pairing: tlp!jungkook x tlp!oc (main story)
summary: in which jungkook looks way too good carrying your sister's three-year old at her christmas eve party and you can't help but let your mind wander
w/c: 6k (ctfu)
warning/s: explicit sexual content (p in v s*x, car s*x, unprotected s*x, cre*mpie), oc having baby fever lol. genuinely not proofread sorry for any errors!
You find babies mesmerizing. They’re charming, they can be a handful, they’re irresistibly cute; so tiny, yet so loud. But to the core, they somehow manage to be a pure embodiment of joy.
Before Nayeon got pregnant, she shared something about having a “baby fever”. Of course you knew what it meant – but you never really felt it yourself. She said it was something about Minhyuk being such a good husband that she couldn’t wait for him to be a father. Well, you related to that specific part, at least; about your own husband being such a good husband. However, for the past year you’ve become a married couple, you never really thought about having babies. Or him being a father. Or you being a mother.
It’s not like you don’t want to become a mother, like ever, or have a family with him. It’s just you thought you’re still way too young to be having babies. So you kind of just… gloss or skip over that idea – and for the record, Jungkook’s never brought it up, either.
It’s not until your sister got pregnant for the second time, though, that you got yourself thinking. Seokjin and her had babies almost four years into their marriage, but it’s not very long until they decided to try again after Nari and now your sister is carrying her baby boy for seven months.
It brings you here, gathered at their house for Christmas Eve. Your families haven’t arrived yet, but you and Jungkook decided to go earlier than the agreed time to help out with the – admittedly, big preparation. And currently, Jungkook’s got Nari – Seokjin and your sister’s 3-year-old – in his arms, asking for raspberries because Jungkook’s her favorite uncle. (Why wouldn’t he be? He spoils her a lot and carries her around when you come over.) He insisted on looking after her so Seokjin can help your sister out in the kitchen while you’re over at the counter island making some charcuterie.
Seokjin’s helping your sister take out the pies they’ve both prepared, with him guarding her and being extra with it because “my wife is pregnant and I’m growing white hairs because she wouldn’t just let me do everything”. Your sister is just so done chastising him for his overbearing antics, but you guess it’s cute, at the core of it all. You’ve always looked up to their relationship all these years. In fact, you kind of see Seokjin in Jungkook sometimes. Seokjin loves your sister the way Jungkook loves you.
And then, the thought passes over your head like some form of looming possibility, unsettling yet intriguing. It lingers for a moment, uninvited but persistent, as if life is quietly hinting at something you’ve never truly considered before. The idea of a baby, of parenthood, feels distant but somehow more tangible now—like a door you never saw, now standing slightly ajar, waiting for you to decide whether to step through.
Would Jungkook be just as (lovingly) overbearing if you were pregnant? You imagine he’d be even more annoying about it. It’s rare for you to get sick, but when you do, Jungkook practically flips the house upside down just to make sure you don’t have to lift a finger. Takes care of you so seriously, as if the illness would never go away on its own in a few days. So what would it be like if you were carrying his child? Would he act like Seokjin does now, always hovering with a hand on your back, supporting your every move, scolding you if you try to do anything that requires even a little bit of effort?
The thought makes your lips curl. Because he probably would. You know he will.
And as you look at him from across the room, carrying Nari around effortlessly against his body with one arm, with his red long-sleeve polo shirt pushed up to his forearms, white slacks, and freshly cut hair slicked to perfection for tonight’s occasion, he looks… delectable.
Like a DILF.
Except he isn’t a dad.
But god, would you really, really like to fuck him.
(And would he look way hotter if he – say – gave you a child?)
“Is it done?” Your sister interrupts your thoughts – thankfully, might you add. Because it’s going in a direction that’s way too inappropriate for a family occasion like this, and you need to be family friendly tonight for this Christmas party.
When you turn around to see if she was talking to you, you find her looking at her husband instead, and with her stance and the tone of her voice, you know it doesn’t sound good.
“Yeah. I think I just need to add a little more—”
“Jin,” she says, sounding a little distressed. “Hurry. And make sure it’s perfect, okay? Everyone’s arriving in fifteen, and this is the first time I’m hosting Christmas and I really, really don’t want to disappoint your family and Jungkook’s parents and mom and—”
“Hey,” You see Seokjin put a hand on the lower part of your sister’s back, effectively cutting her off. Gently, he tells her, “Everything’s perfect, alright?”
Soft tunes of Christmas songs are playing all over the huge open space of their house, and you know you’re not supposed to listen in to the conversation given that they’re spoken in an almost hushed manner as some sort of discretion, but you can’t help but notice when she turns to Seokjin to give him a downturned smile.
“I just really want to give this my all…”
He smiles down at her reassuringly. “You have, honey. Let’s not stress, okay? Not good for baby, remember?” Then, he begins to rub her protruding belly, and you see her visibly relaxing to his touch.
You turn around quickly to not get caught watching, only to be welcomed with Jungkook making a beeline towards you, with Nari still in his arms.
“Hi, baby,” Your sister automatically greets Nari, cooing at her, mood immediately picking up. The bright-eyed little girl lights up at the sight of her mommy, making grabby hands instantly. Laughing, Jungkook hands her to Seokjin, who receives his daughter and kisses her chubby cheeks with a smack.
“What were you up to with uncle JK, little missy?” Seokjin says, swaying her side to side.
Jungkook leans his elbow on the island while looking at the pair, smiling widely.
“Uncle JK said he’s giving me three presents! Three! I wanna open them!” She holds up three fingers, and you giggle at her cuteness.
Your sister softly laughs in response. “Your uncle likes to spoil you, sweetie. But we’ll open them later, okay?”
“Why not now?” She whines, and you smile at how seriously she takes it. “I want three presents!”
“Don’t worry,” Seokjin laughs, “You’ll have lots of surprises when the grandmas and grandpas get here. But we need to change into your dress first.”
Nari giggles. “You? You’re gonna wear a dress too?”
Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, why not?”
She shakes her head, still giggling, her pigtails swaying as she does so. God, she looks like a combination of Seokjin and your sister that it’s so uncanny sometimes.
“You’re so silly, daddy.”
Seokjin feigns shock. “Silly? Just wait, Uncle JK and I are going to be Ariel and Belle for New Year’s! Right, Jungkook?” He looks over at Jungkook, who widens his eyes comically.
You laugh, and Jungkook adds, “Well, I wanted to be Cinderella, but sure, I’ll be Belle.”
Nari gasps dramatically, putting her hand over her mouth. “But she’s my favorite, Uncle JK! You can’t be her!”
She’s such a cute kid – and you know everybody in the room agrees. No doubt her mom and dad think so, but when you look over at Jungkook, he’s cheesing really hard – with his nose scrunched into that expression of cute aggression.
“These two boys are silly.” Your sister interrupts with a playful roll of her eyes. She looks at her husband Nari, “Honey, take Nari upstairs and dress her up, please.”
“I can wear my new dress now?!” Nari shrieks, excitement showing with the way she wiggles in her father’s hold.
“Absolutely, baby, and the sparkly white shoes, too,” Seokjin nods. You all coo when Nari lets out an adorable, delighted “yay!” at the words, already leaning towards the direction of the stairs and telling her father to hurry. With a chuckle, Seojin turns to you. “Alright. And Jungkook, please help her with the food.” Seokjin’s gaze falls to your sister, a reminder before he goes completely.
“She’s so cute, I can’t.” Jungkook chuckles.
“Right… my sister was definitely not that cute when we were younger.” you tease, earning an arched brow to your way from your sister.
“I was the cuter one between us, it’s an established fact,” she rolls her eyes. “When you two get a kid, it better look like Jungkook.”
Maybe the remark sounded like such a throw-away comment that Jungkook just laughs it off as if it isn’t the first time somebody hinted at you two starting a family. Or maybe he just thinks it isn’t a big deal. Or maybe… maybe he likes the idea?
You’re about to say something when your sister turns to you.
“You,” she takes you by the shoulders and you look back at her. “You might want to retouch your make-up. Party’s starting soon. And this charcuterie looks—” she looks to the side as if to check if Nari is still around, and when she deems she isn’t at all, she continues to say, “fucking perfect. I love you.”
“Duh.” you reply, cockily showing off the board to her and to Jungkook who intriguingly looks at your work.
“I knew you should have been a chef.” Jungkook comments proudly, grinning at you.
“Alright, man,” your sister says in a flat tone, making Jungkook and you laugh. “Jungkook, can help me transfer these to the dining table, please?” She points to the trays of food and Jungkook rounds the counter so he can do just as she requested.
Before you can head to the powder room, Jungkook brushes past your waist – just one of the candid things he does to have some sort of physical contact with you when you’re not necessarily talking together or close to each other.
It puts a smile on your face as you enter the powder room.
Inside, you make quick work of putting another layer of lipstick and pressing powder on your face, checking your hair before you stand upright and look at your reflection in the mirror.
You step backwards enough to see half of your body, and from there, you can see how beautiful you look in the outfit you’ve chosen for tonight. It’s a satin red dress with a halter neckline, the gathered drape cascading gracefully around your neck, exposing your shoulders. The silhouette fits at the waist and flows into a straight skirt that stops inches below your knees, and Jungkook may have had a hard time letting you go in your bedroom before you drove to your sister’s place – but you promised him a good time when you get back home so in the end, he had to tuck in a semi on the way from here.
Poor Jungkook.
Though… you’re beginning to think poor you, instead.
Because you’re thinking about it again. Him in his outfit tonight; the silk polo so he can match yours, and the way he looked so good with a baby girl in his strong arms.
You can already picture how good he'd look with his own child. He’d be the type of dad who looks effortlessly hot with a baby carrier, showers his kids with gifts because he can’t help himself, and simply excels at being a wonderful father because he’s Jeon Jungkook and he excels in everything he sets his mind to.
Now your brain’s going on a haywire.
Because now it’s just Jungkook. Hot Jungkook. Jungkook with a baby. Jungkook looking smoking hot carrying his own baby – your baby.
And wouldn’t it be nice? To carry a being formed by your mutual love? To have someone as adorable and smart and sassy as Nari? God. You hope she’d look like you, but have Jungkook’s eyes because they are your favorite part of him, and then his nose, maybe? And… and maybe have the mole under his lip too, if that was possible. Jungkook had a lot of hair when he came out of his mom’s womb, would your daughter have a lot of hair as well when you give birth to her?
And why are you already thinking of the gender of your non-existent child?
You think you’ve gone nuts, but the indulgent little devil on your shoulder is insisting that Jungkook would look so good with a baby girl because you know he’d be such a girl dad. There’s just absolutely no doubt about it, given how he treats Nari.
You stare at yourself in the mirror again, and absentmindedly, you turn to the side, noting the very clear absence of a bump on your stomach unlike your sister’s.
Would you carry a baby as gracefully as her? You know her struggles… but… maybe you won’t mind it with a husband like Jungkook… right? Just like she doesn’t mind with a husband like Seokjin. Because Jungkook takes really good care of you. He’d probably panic more than you about certain things. Be extra careful for the both of you. Fetch you your cravings. Love you more than he does now.
You remember Seokjin rubbing a gentle hand over your sister’s bump, and it brings your own to caress the flat of your stomach over the smooth fabric of your dress.
Obviously no baby there. But… just imagine. You with a baby bump.
Hah.
Weird, because it’s the first time the idea’s planted in your head and you kind of like it more than you thought.
You nibble on your bottom lip as you continue to caress your tummy, not noticing the knock that came from outside.
“Oh my—”
“Baby?”
“Jungkook.” Your hands retreat back to your sides. When you look at Jungkook, standing on the doorway, you let one hand clutch at your chest as you tell him, “You scared me.”
The door clicks as he locks it behind him. Your husband arches his brow as he goes over to you. “What are you so jumpy for?”
You ignore the question, looking back to the mirror again to fix your dress. But as you do so, you see his reflection – and you catch how he intently stares at you through the glass as well, walking behind you closer and pressing himself against you. His proximity suddenly makes you nervous.
“You should’ve knocked.”
“I did. You didn’t answer.”
“I didn’t hear.” When you turn around, Jungkook takes a curled strand of hair over your face and tucks it behind your ear.
“You look beautiful. So gorgeous.” He says before he wraps his arms around your waist and presses a kiss to your lips, one that you welcome fully even though you just reapplied your lipstick. When you break away, you see some remnants on his lips… and realize you picked the wrong lipstick for tonight. You should’ve brought the kiss-proof lippy instead.
You wipe it off and Jungkook smiles before he ducks down, not caring, and kisses your cheek for good measure before he speaks again, “What were you doing in here?” He wiggles his eyebrows, as if he knows you were up to something before he barged in.
You avoid his gaze and turn back around.
“Nothing,” You say, trying to busy yourself with your hair again. But Jungkook can be really annoying when he wants to be, so of course he pushes, quite literally and figuratively.
“What was it? I saw you…” He teases, pushing his nose in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tightening his hold around you.
“What did you– Jungkook!” You half-snort and scoff when Jungkook bites your neck playfully. You turn around to push him, but he’s insistent on keeping the nonexistent space between you and cages you in his big presence instead, trapping you in between the edge of the sink and the heat of his body.
“This damn dress…” Jungkook whispers as he splays his hand over your stomach, which makes your breath hitch.
Did he really see? See you pretending to have a baby bump at the thought of him impregnating you?
But Jungkook doesn’t really say anything further, just lets an idle finger run over the curve of your hips up to your waist, until it stops at the exposed skin of your shoulder.
“Can’t wait to fuck you in this.” He whispers in your ear, eyes meeting your gaze in the mirror, not subtle in the way he checks out your body after.
You huff out a scoff, giving a little more force into the push that you give him this time. His more relaxed hold on you makes him stumble a little bit backwards, chuckling when you roll your eyes at him once again.
“You’re not even gonna take it off me?” You ask as your turn on the tap, arching your brow at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.
A sly smirk makes an appearance on his lips. “I don’t need to take anything off to make you cum, baby.”
You turn around, leaning on the sink. “So you’re saying you’re not interested at all about my very elaborate choice of underwear tonight, then?”
That catches him off guard, his brows furrowed in confusion and then realization.
“You minx.”
You chuckle, swatting his hand away when he tries to touch you. When he whines, you take a step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, and Jungkook’s predictably eager to encircle your waist in his arms back again.
“Later. We have to keep it PG for at least three hours tonight. And you can—” you push at his chest for leverage so you can lean down a little to ride your dress up your thighs. Looking at Jungkook, you watch as he stares at you closely, intently, but oblivious to what you’re doing. He clearly enjoys it, though, judging from the hint of a smile on his lips and the shine in his eyes when more of your skin gets revealed.
Especially when he catches a glimpse of your white lace underwear that he bought for you himself.
He whistles, and you roll your eyes at the predictable reaction. Taking one of his hands off you, you guide it in between your thighs, earning an involuntary moan from you because Jungkook’s palm automatically cups your heat when he gets close.
“Ah…”
“Fuck…” Jungkook looks down where his hand meets your core. “Goddamn,” He says, then you feel him push your panties to the side, dipping the tip of his finger in your pussy. “Why the fuck are you so wet, baby?”
“Y-yeah…” You whine against his chest, gripping his wrist when he attempts to move again. “Kook, don’t.”
Jungkook halts. He looks at you. Then, he nods. “Alright. Alright. Stop this here?”
“Hm.”
He looks down at you with an arched brow. “You started it, though.”
“You were being flirty.” You say as Jungkook brings your underwear back in place, but not without squeezing your ass first. You nibble on your bottom lip as he rides down the dress, letting it dangle on your knees back again, smoothing the front for you to get rid of the wrinkles.
“Not my fault you’re hot,” he snorts. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“I’m kinda hard…” He says, and you both look down to the bump on his white slacks. Certainly not his full potential (like… you’d know), but it’s still apparent in the light color of his trouser.
“Poor baby,” you say, can’t help but pat it a little condescendingly which earns a chuckle from Jungkook, him playfully swatting your hand away.
“You’re so…”
“I’m so what.”
Jungkook’s face is a mixture of frustration and amusement. “You always do this shit.”
You giggle, knowing exactly what he means. But you act like you have no clue. “What?”
“Get me horny then leave.” He shakes his head, then pokes your waist.
Chuckling, you kiss him on the cheek quickly, making a beeline to the door quickly lest he tries to kiss you again (and you’ll have no choice but to make out in your sister’s powder room, during her big Christmas party, mind you) and then give him a wink before you go.
The ride on the way home felt like it took sixty five years, and it might just be true especially when you’re horny as hell and you got a husband behind the steering wheel looking effortlessly hot in his element.
You’ve been hot and bothered for hours, and maybe it’s the champagne – probably has gotten in your brain or whatever – but Jungkook was not even done parking when you made a move to palm him over the console.
“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed, clearly not expecting it at all. He had that wide-eyed look when he frantically turned off the engine, staring at you while your hand grew heavy on his crotch. “Here?” You bit on your bottom lip as you nodded your head. He looked beyond conflicted. “But baby, we’re just ten floors away from our u–”
“Please?”
And what was he supposed to say? No?
Absolutely not. Not when your glassy eyes looked so pleading the way they did.
He just makes your insides churn, especially when you look at him. And for the past few hours, you couldn’t stop thinking about his dick inside you and most especially his cum. (Translation: You can’t stop thinking about him fucking a baby into you).
But… the thing was, you’ve only ever fucked in a car once.
Jungkook’s way too pesky about stuff like that, and somehow, even though he’s already been made aware of your exhibitionist tendencies (cue unprompted sex in public areas like that one time in the beach, window sex at a Ritz hotel back in London and… admittedly many more…) car sex was just… a least favorite. The first and only time you did it was when you were still fresh into dating; at a drive-thru cinema, but it was kind of a whack in both your opinions because it was too cramped up and you bumped your head and you almost got caught which is way too embarrassing of a memory to ever revisit.
But now maybe that really doesn't matter anymore.
Not when your husband looks like that.
And bottomline is: you just really, really want him to cum in you.
Oh god. What is wrong with your head tonight?
“Baby, fuuuck,” Jungkook hisses as you speed up your rhythm up and down his cock. His boxers and slacks are pushed down to the middle of his thighs while his shirt is all but buttoned. Meanwhile, your dress is bunched up in your mid-section.
You’re near tears on his lap at this point, already feeling your thighs straining at the force you’re exerting in every bounce – but you couldn’t care less.
“Oh my god, baby– you feel so good,” you moan, eyes shutting close at the feel of his tip hitting that spot inside you whenever you go down.
For the first few minutes, Jungkook took it upon himself to guide your hips in every movement just like he always does when you ride him like this, pounding into you from underneath, but he eventually let you control the pace, leaning way back to the reclined seat and watches you work instead. He stares at you with hooded eyes as you push yourself up and down on his hardened cock, stiletto heels digging the side of his thighs occasionally.
While you pleasure yourself on him, he slides your dress up further, gets a little frustrated that it’s tight on the waist so he can’t push it past your tits. So he feels for your nape to find the zipper because he knows it’s there – he zipped you up in this dress before you drove to your sister’s place – and he delights when he finds the small, cold material, pulling it down blindly until you noticed and help him get yourself out of it.
Jungkook sighs when the top comes down, snapping the clip of your sleeveless bra and getting it out of the way before he greedily fondles your now bare breasts in his huge palms.
“Ohh,” you moan when Jungkook flicks your nipples, getting them even harder. You push yourself back, leaning into one elbow on the steering wheel as you begin to rock against him in a back and forth motion,
“Fuck—” Jungkook lets out a guttural groan, squeezing your tits tighter that makes you keen in want. “So fucking sexy, baby. Shit – damn – l-love you.”
“I-I love you too,” you say, more like a whine, chasing a high he knows is impending.
Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes. Your hair that was once tidy and neat three hours ago is now all over the place, the high bun loosening and some strands falling off your pretty face. Your lipstick smudged and he’s sure the remnants are on his lips, and with your mouth agaped in that erotic o-shape while you pleasure yourself on his cock, Jungkook feels like exploding.
“Ah– shit,” he groans, feeling the warm crevice of your wet pussy swallow him whole. When you climbed over his lap a while ago after he fingered you, he was gonna take out a condom from the glove compartment but you insisted to not use it, and the picture of you looking down while he pushed your panties to the side and looked into each other’s eyes as you sank down on him is still playing in his head like a broken record.
God fuck damn, you’re just so unreal. The love of his life. His wife.
He wipes your tear-stained cheeks, torn because he doesn’t like seeing you cry but he does like it when it’s because you’re so eager to bounce on his cock that even though you know you’re pushing it, you continue to do so.
Jungkook lets his hand travel from a boob to linger on your cheek, and he keens on the way you purr when you lean into his touch, smiling slightly when you open your mouth as his thumb nears it.
You eagerly suck it as if verbally prompted, opening your eyes just so you can stare at his as you lewdly slobber over his finger while you expertly move against his cock, breasts jiggling up and down right in front of his face – the obscene squelches of your lovemaking filling the air of his cramped up benz.
“You’re so perfect, baby,” Jungkook whispers. “Perfect girl. You love bouncing on my cock, love? Just couldn’t wait until we get home? Hm?” His tone is a bit condescending and cocky.
When Jungkook takes out his finger from your mouth, you bite your lip as you nod, resuming your up and down motion again. Slamming down on his dick, your hands come up to grip his shoulders tight.
“We are home.”
Jungkook chuckles, a rich and dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. A snarky remark gets buried in your throat when you feel a certain zap of electricity coming from your toes to your spine, the hot coil in your stomach edging to burst.
“I’m cumming– oh my god, Jungkook– baby I’m cumming—” You say, speeding up your pace once again.
With your breasts bouncing in front of his face like that, he couldn’t help but dive right into it, wrapping his lips around one nipple, nipping and sucking and licking, while he busies one hand with fondling the other. He alternated in between both tits, groaning and grunting when your pussy tightens around him, and one more slam on his cock gets you spiraling as you finally cum.
Jungkook closes his eyes when he feels you gush around him, and he really wishes that he could lay you down, spread you out, and eat the slick right out of you just like how he likes it.
“That’s it, baby – fuck. Good girl, good girl.”
A long, drawl-out moan slips past your lips, and Jungkook takes it upon himself to keep you bouncing on his cock when your energy dwindles down, rocking his hips upwards, just as eager to reach his high as well.
You try to pick up your pace to help him, planting your palms on his bare chest to meet his thrusts.
“Fuck baby, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” Jungkook says in a hushed whisper, groaning, squeezing your ass tight that you know will leave marks the next day.
“I know, baby – cum for me,” You lean down to capture his lips, whimpering when you feel yourself still coming down from your high.
“Ohh fuuck—” Jungkook moans, a tell-tale sign of his orgasm. “Fuck, I’m cumming—”
It’s almost second nature the way he looks down on your crotch, hand going over to where you meet – and you almost panic when you realize what he’s about to do.
“Jungkook, no,” you stop his hand, and he looks at you with utter confusion, rightfully so. Biting your lip, you stare into his eyes as you say, “I want you to come inside me.”
You watch as his eyes widen, then, “You sure?” He says with furrowed brows.
You nod your head frantically. “Please come in me. I want your come in me. Please, please—”
“Jesus fuck—” Jungkook’s hips stutter, his grip on yours tightening, gaze darkening as he processes your words. “Fuck. Okay, baby. No need to beg, okay? Fuck. I’ll come inside you.”
You speed up your pace and you can feel yourself getting there for a second time, and maybe it’s the heat of the moment, but your next words fall from your lips without much thought: “Yeah, yeah –give it to me, Kook. Want your– ah– want your babies.”
“Shit.” Jungkook hisses, taken aback by your words. “Fuuuck…” He looks up at you, grabs your waist and makes you lean closer. “You mean that?”
You nod your head, jumping on his cock up and down like your life depends on it. “Want your babies. Want you to cum in me.”
“Shiiitt,” Jungkook sighs, and you feel him getting harder by the second. “Gonna– gonna fuck a baby in you, baby. Fuck. You don’t know what you do to me– shit, I’m cumming.”
You both moan in unison when Jungkook finally releases inside you the same time you do so, his cock hardening in your walls, throbbing when you settle down on his lap with him still buried inside you. When the seconds pass, you feel the exhaustion wrapping around you, and you let Jungkook trail kisses up your shoulders and neck at the post-coital momentum.
“Fuck, that was so hot.” He whispers against your lips, kissing your parted mouth. You sigh against it, all sweaty and fucked out.
“Oh, baby…” You moan when Jungkook lifts you up and you feel yourself dripping from your cum.
“Fucking hell, so beautiful baby...” Jungkook trails off, squeezing your breasts before pushing you gently to lean back on the steering wheel. You look down as you watch with a gasp when he slides his cock out from your heat, covered in white and slick, moaning lewdly when he pumps it out for more.
Some of it spurts on your pussy, and you stare in awe when Jungkook inserts the tip once again in your heat, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the blurred lines between pleasure and overstimulation.
“Goddammit.” Jungkook sighs, gratified, tapping his cock on your pussy a few times before he grabs your hips again so he can kiss you on the mouth. It almost gives you whiplash when he looks at you with such sincere and genuine eyes as he says, “I love you.”
“Love you,” you say, closing your eyes when his kisses trail to your jaw and his hands come up to fondle your tits again. His favorite fixation – his words, not yours. “Kook.”
“Hm.”
“Sticky.”
He hums again. You keep your position like that for a few more seconds before Jungkook helps put your panties and dress back in place, picking you up slightly as you climb over the passenger seat.
You watch as he pulls his boxers and pants back up, buckling his belt around the waist. He hasn’t fixed the unbuttoned state of his shirt yet before he looks at you again with a smile.
“Come here, you,” He says, beckoning you to come closer with his arm around your seat. You grin, crossing the console again to meet the kiss he gives your mouth. Then, Jungkook breaks the contact, caressing your cheek as he speaks. “Babies, huh?” He brings up, eyes so bright; delighted, excited. He has that unshakeable grin.
And you can’t help but mirror it.
“Do you want to?” You ask instead. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you nervously wait for his answer that doesn’t really take that long.
“Fuck, yeah. If you want to, then I want to,” he responds. Then, he adds, “And I really, really want to.”
“Okay…” you say, biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much. “But it doesn’t have to be now. Or I don’t know. I know it’s only been a year since we got married and all that—”
“Baby, stop,” Jungkook says before you can finish your thought. “Doesn’t matter if we were one month into the marriage. As long as you’re ready, then I’m ready. Are you ready?”
A few beats.
It was your horny-adled brain that got you in this position in the first place – but you think about how life with Jungkook would be like with kids added in the equation in the near future.
It would be so far from bad.
The past year had been nothing short of bliss since you married him, and as you watched Jungkook, a thought warmed your heart: he’d be an incredible dad. The way he loves you, so deeply and selflessly, leaves no doubt in your mind that he’d go above and beyond for your child—or children. You’re certain he’d love them as much as he loves you, perhaps even more.
A smile spreads across your face, and you nod to his question.
“I want a family with you, Kook.”
Jungkook’s face lights up with a delighted smile, mirroring yours. “So, we’re doing this?”
You nod again, biting your lip to temper your excitement.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
You blink at him in surprise. “Why are you thanking me?”
He shakes his head with a gentle smile and leans in to kiss you again. “Just… thank you.”
You furrow your brows, squinting at him in playful confusion. Before you can say more, he leans forward and nips the tip of your nose.
“Ow!” you exclaim, laughing.
“You’re cute,” Jungkook teases. “But we’ve gotta clean up and head home. Then, we can keep practicing putting my baby in you—on a nice, comfortable bed this time.” He winks, pecking your cheek as he buttons his shirt and unbuckles his seatbelt.
You snort, rolling your eyes as you do the same. “Admit it, you like car sex.”
Jungkook hums nonchalantly, his cheeky grin giving him away. You chuckle, shaking your head at him, love radiating in every moment between you.
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook scenarios#p; drabbles#tlp drabbles#fic: tlp
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Humorous
pairs: ambessa medara x wife!reader
summary: It was a pretty hectic you had to endure and you didn’t have the best attitude—it especially didn’t help that you’re wife pestered on about asking what was your deal. She watched with amusement as you practically snapped at her—already knowing what she had in store with you.
warning(s): lots, LOTS OF DIRTY TALK, some praises, spanking 😛, hair pulling, fingering, use of the hexstrap, pussy slaps (OMLLLL), and just ambessa being mean tbh, she’s chill at first but…YOU’LL SEE, also brief mention of edging :p
A/N: i love women. that is all.
Today was a shitty day for you. It was utterly hectic and things were NOT going for you. Let’s just say, you’re weren’t a happy camper. First, you woke up with a headache that did not go away—even after you ate, then you were constantly being followed around by soldiers that your wife ordered to do so, and overall, you just had a bad, bad attitude.
But anywho, you were now in the bedroom and straightening a few things as you found that cleaning helped you relax a bit, but not even that was helping. Your ears picked up heavy footsteps of your wife, feeling her strong arms wrap around your waist.
“Hello, My Sweet..”
A small sigh fell from your lips as her lips trailed down your neck, slowly pulling away from her as you grumbled, “Hi honey..”
She raised a brow at your distant behavior, wondering what could be troubling her dear wife. She settled down on a nearby chair, manspreading comfortably as she leaned back with an amused expression while she continued to poke you—wanting to see what was really the matter.
And, boy did she.
Your body tensed as your head snapped at her, pointing a finger at her with a scowl written on your face; absolutely snapping at her with your irritated tone. Your face was scrunched up, brows furrowed, and voice strained with irritation and frustration—which Ambessa found humorous, especially with the fact you just snapped at her.
She sat there, patiently and leisurely, listening to you rant and fuss at her as you rambled on about your shit day that you’ve terribly endured. She was honestly so quiet that you wondered if she was even listening to you.
“Are you even listening to me, Ambessa?” You snarled at her as your eyes flashed with annoyance, placing your hands on your hips.
“Oh, of course I am, sweetheart, but you know how I am with the attitudes, My Dear….you know that. I suggest—“
“I don’t have an attitude.” You interrupted her with a stern voice as your face scrunched up with irritation at her words, only adding gasoline to the fire.
Her brows raised in slight amusement, leaning back in the chair with a calm expression as she nodded a swift nod, “Oh really?”
You knew that tone of voice. Yeah, you were in for one..
You definitely fucked up. Internally cursing yourself for snapping at her with your attitude—knowing how she felt strongly about attitudes. So here you were now. Completely naked. Completely sprawled out. Face messed with tears as her hand came down on your soaked cunt with a slap, causing you to jerk your thighs closed.
Your wife shot you a warning glare, quickly opening your legs back up before she said anything—letting her resume her torture. Her hooded eyes gaze down at the sticky mess between your thighs, chuckling at the downright pathetic sight, “This is quite the sight..”
A whine bubble in your throat at her words, looking up at her with pleading eyes as chest rise and fell quickly with each heavy pant—causing your tits to jiggle. Another slap after another, another, and another—causing you to be a complete sobbing mess.
“What’s with the tears now, little one? Where’s that fiery bite you had earlier?” When her question was answered, a particular firm slap landed on your clit, making you jolt.
“When I ask a question, I expect an answer. Do not. Make me repeat myself.”
“I’m sorry! Please, baby, ‘m sorry…so sorry…didn’t mean to, I swear..” Your voice was whiny and shaky with tears, sniffling and whimper as your hips bucked up to her touch.
She could only let out an unamused chuckle at your desperation, only finding it humorous to her. Her eyes gazed down at you before grasping your cheeks, making your lips pucker together in a pout. “Mm…you’re sorry? You’re sorry, My Love?”
Her voice was uncharacteristically soft and gentle—as if she wasn’t just slapping your cunt just while ago. Her eyes stared into your teary ones, taking notice of the slow nod of your head. “Yes…’m sorry, please..”
Her thumb grazed over you bottom lip, cooing softly at the sight of her precious wife in such a state before a slap came back down on your cunt—crying out in pain before she grasped your cheeks firmly.
“I’ll show you sorry.”
And boy, did she?
You were on all four. Arms struggling to hold you up. One of her warm, large hands on your hip to steady you as the other was preoccupied with fucking you with her fingers; filling you to the brim with just two. Tears were trailing down your cheeks as you sniffles and whined—occasionally yelling as her hand came down harsh on your ass.
She smirked with amusement at your pathetic state—though you couldn’t see the smirk, but you can practically hear it in her voice. “Mm, I do wonder on where that chatty mouth of yours went. Do you think you’ve proven to me that you’re sorry, Dear?”
You nodded your head frantically at her low words, feeling your body seize at the upcoming orgasm—though it was ruined when she slipped her fingers out and her hand came down hard on your ass.
“Words.”
“Yes! Y-yes—I’m so sorry, baby! Please…I swear!” You cries out as your thighs trembled as you were edged for the fourth time during this moment of torture. A pleased smile tugged at her dark lips, soothing the stinging pain on your ass with a gentle rub before slipping her finger back inside you with a lewd squelch—earning a choked moan from you.
“Good. Seems you’re getting better at listening instead of running your mouth with such a nasty attitude.”
Your brain was so clouded you could barely even comprehend of her words, only focusing on the way her thick fingers pumped in and out of you with quick, deep thrusts—though you could hear the lines of:
“Feel how deep I am? Filling you up so nicely, aren’t I?”
“Squeezing my fingers so tight…such a greedy girl..”
“Practically drenching my fingers at this point, Love. Such a mess..”
You’re so close, aren’t you? Maybe I should pull away and just leave you here—aching for my touch.”
“You’re lucky I’m giving you such pleasure with the little stunt you pulled—move your hand.”
The pleasure became utterly overwhelming—having that your other organs were denied and this one feel so intense—and you couldn’t help, but reach back to her wrist.
“Please—Bessa…too much! Please, baby…”
Your voice cracked with a whine as her fingers hit that same spot that made your toes curl and vision cloud with stars repeatedly. She didn’t respond, only pinning your arm down on the small of your back—leaning close to your ear as her breath was hot against your skin.
“You’ll take whatever I give you..”
Your mind was completely clouded. Your hand gripped at the sheets tightly as your knees threatened to give out. Mouth hung open with broken moans and weak whimpers leaving as tears trailed down your cheek. Squelching noises filled the room as she was brutally thrusting into your soaked cunt over and over with her ruby red strap—hitting that sweet spot dead on.
A yelp fell from your mouth as you felt your hair being tugged back, forcing your arch to deepened and the angle to become better for her thrusts. Your eyes fluttered with tears as your body jerked with the harsh slap of her hand against your ass.
“What was all that talk about ‘too much’? It doesn’t seem that way with how tight you’re gripping me in—almost as if you don’t want me to pull away..”
The way her hand repeatedly kept slapping your ass caused you to cry out in pain, but also pleasure as her thrusts became quick and deep gradually. You felt drool trickle down your chin as your mouth hung open with punctured mewls—spewing her on more.
“Oh, my sweet girl….taking me so well, hm? That nasty attitudes all gone, just needed me to fix it, hm? Oh, I know, Honey…”
Your eyes rolled back as her words made your pussy throb, jerking your hips back as you practically fucked yourself back onto her—earning a low chuckle from your dear wife.
“Look at that…’ts funny how you declared it was too much not too long ago, My Dear…but I know you wanted this, baby.
Funny how things change so quickly, am I right?
you could probably tell the ending was rushed lowkey 🥲hoped you enjoyed it tho <3
#arcane#ambessa medarda#ambessa x reader#smut#ambessa smut#ambessa x you#arcane ambessa x reader#wlw#lesbian#ambessa fanfic#https://graciedollie#graciedollie ᯓᡣ𐭩
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MISERY BUSINESS
felix catton x reader
synopsis. ꩜ based off of this request.
author’s note. ∿ i need this man so bad it’s not even funny. smut (fingering, oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, praise, marking, voyeurism I guess idk) it's been a while since I wrote something on this account and its not proofread so be nice, also a bit of a rushed ending??
word count. ⨾ 2.7k
The harsh thud of the car door closing awoke you from your mid-day reverie by the lake. The sun was beaming down on you almost bare body, only covered by a bikini. It was hotter than usual and everyone else at saltburn seemed to share your complaints. The heat aside the weather was pleasant—Felix on the other hand looked less than.
He looked annoyed, almost upset, even from far away. When he exited the car Oliver and Felix went their separate ways, Oliver looking just as unhappy. You wondered what happened in just few hours that could’ve soured their moods but it was only a few moments later when Felix approached you, grinning in attempt to hide the scowl he was dressed in minutes earlier.
Once he reached your figure he towered over your body as you laid on the dock. Having well acknowledge the heat now and your lack of clothing he discarded his shirt and quickly lowered his frame over yours so that his was barely hovering over yours.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
He shook his head with a small grin. “nothing.”
You scoffed. “Liar.” He raised his brows.
“What’s wrong?” You prodded again. He dropped his head in hesitation, his lip between his teeth as he contemplated telling you what happened on his and Oliver’s road trip, what he felt, what the truth was—but he couldn’t. Not yet anyways.
He looked up at you. “I- Oliver just said something and it hurt me more than I thought it would.”
You sat up, the two of you adjusting your bodies as you did so. You stared intently at his face, watching how his eyes glossed over and how he could barely hold your gaze. It was a different demeanor than what other people knew, one of the more human parts that made people fall in love with him.
You lifted his face towards yours. “I’m sorry.” The silence that followed after your statement determined he wasn’t interested in sharing anything deeper than the surface of the matter.
He looked back at Saltburn then back at you. “Don’t be.”
You scrunched your brows. “Hm?”
“I don’t know,” He said earnestly. “It’s not your fault, I should’ve listened to you earlier. You kept saying you had a bad feeling about him and I didn’t really take it to heart…til’ now I guess.”
“Oh, Felix,” You sighed, cupping his face, your hand over his jaw subliminally believing that it would release the tension he held there.
“He’s out tomorrow.” His hand caressed yours as it rested on his cheek.
“Really?”
“Really.” He confirmed. “Maybe now I can get you, alone, yeah?” His body pushed yours back down on the doc so he was hovering over you once again.
"Felix," You laughed. "Always distracting me, aren't you."
"No 'm not," he mumbled, nipping at your earlobe. "You weren't doing anything important anyways."
"I was going to ask another question," You giggled.
"Okay," He answered, pushing himself so that he kneeled above you, a knee on either side of your torso. "What?"
When he was playful like this he was such a beautiful sight in front of you, you almost felt bad asking him a question as if you were ruining the mood.
"You're not really kicking him out are you? I feel bad."
He sighed. "I am kicking him out and you shouldn't feel bad, he’s in the business of misery it’s almost like his job to make people feel bad." He crawled back over you once again, something heavier within him now. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw, his clouded eyes. His mouth made its way back to your body, this time trailing down your stomach, beginning to leave marks you knew you’d have to hide at the party tonight.
“Felix,” You frowned. “I just-”
He cut you off. “Enough, alright. He was a creep anyways, you said it yourself,” He told you and you nodded, internally agreeing.
“He’s going home after the party.”
The feel of his voice as he mumbled into your skin was enough for you to stop thinking about the situation for the moment. It wasn’t until nightfall you were reminded of Oliver's unrelenting presence—it was his birthday after all. Still, no matter where you were in Saltburn, you couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes upon you, you couldn’t help but feel that you were never alone.
"Can we go somewhere a little more private?" You asked Felix and he hardly registered the question. His hands up your dress the lights were dim, colored strobe lights bleeding in from the outside. The room was close to empty but the music could be heard throughout the house. You could ask him anything to anyone and it wouldn’t really mean anything—and it didn't help that the two of you were getting dizzy on champagne.
So, you didn't ask you question again but your eyes flickered to the maze that could be seen from the window and he understood what you wanted.
"Whatever you want, angel." He grinned, pulling his hands away to grab yours, taking you to the garden.
You scrunched your brows together. "I should be calling you that y'know."
He laughed with you. "You have wings too."
"But I'm a fairy"
"Close enough." You laughed to yourself as you and Felix walked through the house and towards the maze. There was a bottle of champagne in your left, Felix’s hand in your right, grounding you with each step. The more the time passed the less ideal it felt to walk in heels—you thought of ditching them all together. Still, they held the integrity of your costume, matching the chosen Midsummer Night's Dream theme. You'd dressed up as a fairy, donning flowers in your hair and a frilly slip dress, the costume obviously incomplete without wings.
Your heels pierced through the dirt once you’d made it to the grass, your feet sinking slightly with each step. You groaned to yourself, not going unnoticed by Felix.
“You okay?” He asked, stopping to turn to you.
“My heels,” You answered.
He furrowed his brows. “What about them?”
“Well…” You hesitated. “They’re killing my feet and they keep sinking into the dirt. They’re gonna get dirty.”
“We’ll we can’t have that know can we,” Felix replied, picking you in on fell swoop, your body now in his arms, your legs dangling from his grasp.
"Felix," You giggled his named through broken laughs, surprised with the immediacy of his action.
"What? You know I'd do anything for my best girl," He told you, returning the wide lipped smile on your face.
"I didn't ask you anything."
"You didn't have to."
You went limp in his arms as you sighed, comparable to an act of defiance as if you were annoyed, as if he did something wrong; but you knew he couldn't if he tried. He shook his head but the smirk on his lips was undeniable as he carried you the rest of the way to the center of the maze.
"You're insufferable, won't even let me carry you," He carped, putting you down and letting you lean against the cold metal of the statue as you put the bottle of champagne on the ground beside you.
"I did and you love me," You retorted, inching your face towards his, leaving a sliver of space between your lips. The bronze on your back that chilled your skin was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Felix's body, from the warmth of the air around you. It was intoxicating, his breath on your skin and the breeze of the wind. Looking up at him you could see that carnal glimmer in his eyes when his hands roamed your body only moments earlier, and this morning on the dock. It was something you craved and that was something he knew and savored the fact.
"Well I can't deny that," He smirked before closing the gap between the two of you. You could feel the indent of his grin as he kissed you, his lips turned up into a wicked smile, something more depraved, but still, nonetheless, Felix.
"Why don't I finished what I started earlier, love?" He asked against you not bothering to pull away and you only moaned in approval. His lips traveled from yours to the lobe of your ear so he knew you could hear him clearly.
"You need to use your words, darling."
"Yes," You keened, wanting—needing more than what was being given.
"Good girl," He hummed, his hands drawing down the straps of your dress before they traced down the rest of your body all the way to your thighs. He hooked his hands under them, lifting you to sit on the base of the statue.
"This okay?" He asked, looking into your eyes for conformation, the raise of his eyebrows encouraging it verbally as well.
"Yeah," You sighed breathelessly. "But I still need you."
He smirked again. "Let me fix that then."
Felix's hands gently lowered the front of your dress, exposing your breasts and taking one of them into his mouth, moaning around it.
"You're beautiful, darling" He mumbled, groaning as his tongue slid over your hard nipple. His words were genuine but you couldn't help but feel a little cheesy, kicking your foot playfully at his leg and you felt his erection, hard as you did so.
"And you know that already," He chuckled, sucking your nipple more aggressively. "But it's true." His words made you ache with impatience, whine with desire. Felix pulled back before lowering himself to his knees, his eyes not daring to leave yours. Only when he licked an agonizingly slow, sloppy stripe against your clothed cunt his eyes focused on the sight in front of him.
You breath hitched in anticipation as he pulled down your panties with his teeth and taking them off, shooting you a wink as he pocketed them. Immediately after his gaze moved back to your wet pussy, wasting no time in tasting you.
He dropped his head and his tongue slithered to your clit, flicking the pearl a few times before wrapping his lips around it. Your core was hot against his face, your scent, heady and electrifying; he could spend hours between your legs. Your hand went to claw at his hair, your fingers entangling with his brown locks.
"Ri-Right there," You breathed, attempting your best to string a coherent thought together, but it was hard when one of his hands massaged the outside of your thigh while the other came up to your empty hand. Your fingers interlocking, his thumb kneading the side of your palm as he sucked harder at your clit. You squeezed it as you released strangled moans, strained from the attempt to stay quiet.
"You can be louder, love. No one else is going to hear you except me." You didn't believe him, swearing you heard something in the bushes move along with the fact that there was a full blown party happening in his house right now; but you couldn't help yourself either.
He slipped two fingers into you, eliciting a lewd moan with ease. Your legs pressed together and he almost felt suffocated at the momentary feeling of being entirely enveloped by you—but it was exactly what he wanted.
"Oh God, Felix," You fingers digging deeper into his scalp and he groaned.
His movements were mindless and uncalculated, but they had you reeling each time. He knew your body like a book, where to touch to have your head spinning. The longer he spent between you legs, the louder your moans got, your hips helplessly bucking up to meet his fingers and mouth.
"Atta' girl," he murmured against you core. "Cum for me, love, I can feel you squeezing me."
Your movements got sloppier, raunchier, as your orgasm approached swiftly. It struck you like a bolt of lightning, your body overtaken with rapture and relief. Felix watched as you come down from your high, his fingers still working you over.
"You did so well f'me," He coaxed, finally removing his fingers from your core and scaling up your body, his moving to cling to yours and swallowing any soft moans you had left.
"Need you," You whispered as his lips nipped at yours.
"Need me or my cock?" He chuckled, drunk on you.
"You know what I mean," You replied, hands already to undo the buckle of his belt.
He stopped you before you could go any further. "I know, I just want to hear you say it, darling."
You rolled your eyes in annoyance, the smile on your lips indicating otherwise. His brows darted up, goading you on.
"Please?" He pressed and you exhaled in pleasure, in desire.
"Need you inside me, Felix." The corners of his mouth turned up into that smug smirk you've known for so long and he nodded in thanks.
"As you wish, my love."
He was rock hard, heavy and hot in your hands, precum dripping from his tip. You were just as wet and desperate as he reached down as he lined himself up with your entrance, sheathing himself inside you without another moment of hesitation. His arms caged your body under him as he hissed at the feeling. He gave you a a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you.
"You're so tight," He praised as he kissed you, moaning into your mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips started slow, gently rolling into yours, your clit brushing up into his pelvic bone at just the right angle. Felix tuned into how your moans falter when he hit just right spot, the sensation going straight to your core.
"Feels so good," You keened as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you.
"Yeah? Tell me about it," He asked as he increased his pace, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless, evoking obscene noises from you. You wrapped your legs around his torso, heels digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper as his cock hit your g-spot repeatedly.
You were sure your nails were going to leave a mark as they clawed into his shoulders while his hand slowly travelled to your core, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit to help you reach your climax. You clenched around him in a manner so desperate, cunt fluttering around his cock. You didn’t have time to tell him you were cumming, screaming and sobbing as ecstasy hit you like a brick wall. You arched your back as his name fell from your lips again and again like a hopeless prayer. He followed suit seconds later, soaked with you as buried his head into the crook of your neck. He came with a strident cry as he bottomed out, filling you to the brim. You went limp under him as he panted weakly with his voice hoarse in your ear.
Still hazy from your climax your eyes widened as you saw Oliver walk into the maze. Felix didn't hear him, but he took note of your expression.
"What? Are you okay? What's-"
You interrupted him. "Oliver." Felix's head whipped around to the man standing behind him.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Felix exclaimed and you pulled your legs from his torso and fixed your dress. Felix pulled up his trousers, buckling up his belt before fully turning to face Oliver.
"What are you doing here, mate? I mean, really?" You didn't say anything, composing yourself as Felix stood in front of you. Oliver opened his mouth to speak but Felix cut him off before he could explain himself.
"Actually I don't wanna fucking know, I've seen enough." He sighed and looked back to check on you.
“I think you should go,” You said to Oliver. “Before you do anything more to embarrass yourself.” The words were harsh as they came out of your mouth but you didn’t know what else to say. You watched as he walked away with his shoulders slumped, no doubt some guilt weighing them down.
“Are you alright?” Felix asked you, turning back around. You nodded still processing what had just happened as it seemed the champagne had worn off a while ago. You grabbed the bottle off the ground and held it up, offering it to Felix with a smile he didn't hesitate to reciprocate back.
"To Oliver's fucking party!" You laughed confused as ever, taking a swig of the bottle before he grabbed it from you.
"To Oliver's stupid fucking party."
#jacob elordi#felix catton#felix catton x reader#felix catton x you#felix catton x y/n#felix catton saltburn#saltburn#oliver quick#blondedmuse.nsfw#felix catton x reader smut#felix catton smut#jacob elordi smut
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His Father's Son
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: After the untimely death of his father, Rafe takes it upon himself to become the man of the house.
warnings: NON-CON, STEPCEST, AGE GAP, mentions of major character death, depression, alcoholism, stepmom!reader, underage drinking, canon ages
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
⭑
The overwhelming feeling of being watched turned out to be true.
You flinched at the sight of the figure standing next to your bed, eerily still and eerily familiar in the darkness. Reason took over, and your heart started to slow just as quickly as it had started to race. You struggled to move, legs twisted within the sheets as you reached over to turn on the lamp. Sleep was still clinging to you, desperate to pull you back in, but you pushed it away with one look at Rafe’s face.
“It’s 8 o’clock,” was all he said in that tone you had never cared for.
Once his words actually registered though, you swallowed down the mild irritation that had threatened to bubble up. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you blinked, staring at him with parted lips before hurrying to search for your phone. When it bounced out of your unsteady hands and onto the floor, you cursed.
Sliding out of bed, you unfortunately confirmed that it was indeed 8 o’clock.
Now 8:03.
“Shit,” you breathed, pressing your hand to your forehead. “Um…”
You swiped your tongue between your lips, noting how dry they felt.
“Tell Wheezie-.”
“I already took Wheezie to school.”
The teenager’s words surprised you, and your hand fell, staring at him in a mixture of shock and shame. At those words, you finally registered the look on his face, and you found yourself thinking that his tone earlier made a lot more sense. You opened and closed your mouth, fighting to figure out how to respond. Unfortunately, you didn’t come up with anything clever.
“…oh.”
You watched the blond cross his arms over his chest, head tilted with the barest of frowns between his brows.
“I’m sorry,” you finally added, letting out a sigh. “I overslept and my alarm didn’t go off and…”
You found yourself trailing off, hating the sound of your excuses.
You got the feeling that Rafe hated the sound of them too by the even stare he fixed you with. You imagined that he hadn’t planned on dropping Wheezie off to her first day of school this year, and while it was something you both knew he should expect to do sometimes, it was also something he should’ve been asked to do. You couldn’t even remember going to bed the previous night, and you were sure the two bottles of wine you’d consumed had something to do with it.
“Should I anticipate dropping her off tomorrow too?”
There was an edge in his voice that you didn’t like but couldn’t necessarily be angry at.
“No,” you told him, tone sheepish. “I’ll get up on time.”
Rafe didn’t respond, but he also didn’t leave right away. He simply stood there, drinking you in with a frown. There was a look that passed through his eyes that made you think he probably wanted to say something, but if that were true, he swiftly changed his mind. You watched him silently leave, and you resisted the urge to sigh, closing your eyes instead.
When you married Ward Cameron two years ago, it wasn’t for the most honorable of reasons you’d admit. However, the same could also be said for him. After all, what would a forty-year-old man possibly want with a twenty-seven-year-old woman? Probably something equally as superficial as the same reasons a twenty-seven-year-old woman would want to marry a forty-year-old man. With that being said though, you hadn’t actually expected to fall for him. In hindsight, how could you not?
He had never been bad looking, and he was far kinder than you ever expected. Sure, the money and security of a comfortable life were what pulled you in, but after saying yes, you realized that he wasn’t the typical cold and rich husband you expected him to be. Seeing him do his best with his children only made it harder to pretend like it was some loveless marriage of mutual benefit.
You loved him.
…and then he died.
With one boating accident, you were suddenly the single mother of three teenagers. It wasn’t something you were prepared for, and while one was technically an adult, that still left two who weren’t and couldn’t possibly fend for themselves. On top of it all, you still found it hard to get out of bed most days, a problem that wasn’t so bad during the summer.
…but the new term was here, and you couldn’t put your responsibilities off any longer.
Reminding yourself that you’d quite literally drank yourself to sleep the previous night and therefore overslept, you noted that you were off to a bad start. The thought made your eyes burn, the full realization of your new reality hitting you. After Ward died, Rafe was basically the one to take care of everything while you spent most days in bed, but months had passed and summer was over and now your time had come to be a parent.
Resisting the urge to cry, you stumbled to the bathroom, hoping you didn’t look as bad as you felt.
“Did you hear me?”
His voice pulled you out of your own head and you slowly turned to look at him.
“What?”
Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, and it was then that you realized he’d probably been speaking to you for some time. You swallowed at the realization, noting that you’d spaced out again, and when Rafe heaved a sigh, you actually felt like the scolded child.
“Sarah’s staying over at a friend’s house tonight,” he told you.
You could feel his gaze on you when you nodded, and deep in the back of your mind you knew that you should’ve asked some follow up questions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You’d always trusted Sarah and her judgement—Rafe being the one you and Ward always worried about—and considering the circumstances, you wouldn’t question her on this. In your current state of mind, you were positive she could ask you to smoke a blunt and you’d give her the okay.
You were pulled from your thoughts again by the sound of your name.
You were unsurprised to meet Rafe’s gaze.
You couldn’t place the look on his face, but he seemed like he was deep in thought. Rafe’s behavior and demeanor had taken a 180 after Ward’s death you had to admit. Granted, you supposed that was to be expected, but for some reason it surprised you. Maybe it was because the change was so drastic or maybe because Rafe seemed so set in his ways that it was hard for you to remember that he was only nineteen and still had so much capacity to mature into someone entirely other than what you knew him to be.
Your thoughts on the matter didn’t really matter, you supposed. All that mattered was that he’d stepped up where you’d so clearly dropped the ball, and maybe that was why you found it so hard to snap out of it and be the responsible parent, now. There were days when your grief paralyzed you, and you didn’t feel that nagging obligation to get out of bed because you knew Rafe would handle it.
The blond didn’t say anything, but his thoughts were plain as day as he reached along the counter and slid your drink from in front of you.
“Rafe-.”
“I think you’ve had enough,” was all he drawled, and you found yourself frowning.
“Who’s the parent in this scenario?”
“Apparently me,” he fired back, making your jaw tick. “I’m the one running the business and taking Wheezie to school and making sure there’s actually something to eat in the house.”
You blinked at that, recalling that you couldn’t remember the last time you went grocery shopping. Shame filled you once again, and your gaze lowered, eyes tracing the patterns of the granite. The silence that descended between you was thick, and just when you were about to apologize, Rafe spoke.
“Look, I get that you loved him or whatever, but… So did we…,” your eyes met his at that. “…and Wheezie and Sarah still have to go to school, and I still have to talk to people and deal with contracts and bullshit I didn’t think I would for at least another ten years.”
You realized that Rafe was right, and it made you feel worse because you didn’t think Ward would have married you if he didn’t think you were capable of looking after his children should something happen to him. Yet here you were…letting him down…
Rafe moved from his spot on the other side of the counter, and you only let him when he gently took your arm and forced you to stand. It was a far cry from your dynamic only five months ago. In your defense, you never clicked with Rafe. It wasn’t for lack of trying on your end, but Rafe was so troubled and had so many pent-up emotions and awful drug habits that it only proved to be a breeding ground for disaster.
You could think of too many instances in which you tried to be a parent to him only to be met with the same snarky and cruel demeanor he gave to everyone. He never quite took to you as his new parental figure, and you’d quickly learned that Ward was the only authority he’d respect and listen to. You tended to try and stay out of his way as a result, but Rafe was the one to catch you when you collapsed after getting the news that day.
Overnight, he’d gone from treating you like the ugly stepmother and instead like some injured foal he needed to look out for.
“That’s not healthy,” Mrs. Thornton said to you a few days later.
You watched her set her tea down, lips twisted into disapproval as she marinated on your words.
“You are the parent,” she sternly told you. “It’s your duty to pick up right where Ward left off, and instead you are letting some teenager run things.”
You knew that she was right, but you didn’t exactly relish hearing it.
You had never cared for the older woman, her upbringing influencing the majority of her opinions and stern exterior. However, after the boating accident, you desperately needed another actual adult to talk to. You were out of your element, and everyone knew it, and the first time you sat with her after your husband’s death felt humiliating. Now, however, you practically relied on her to keep your head on straight.
“…but I don’t know how to parent two teenagers all by myself, let alone handle the family business that I was never all that privy to.”
She made a noise at your admission, and it only served to humiliate you further. You had long suspected that she didn’t approve of Ward marrying a significantly younger woman, and by telling her that you weren’t included at all in the important decisions, you only validated her suspicions that you were only ever for show.
You forced yourself to ignore it.
“Their relationship was rocky, yes, but… No one knew Ward like Rafe,” you quietly admitted. “…and Rafe is the only one Ward talked to about all of this. Rafe knows how to make the decisions Ward would want.”
“He’s nineteen,” she scoffed. “Barely older than my own son.”
At your unsure expression, she leaned in closer, brows drawn together and lips pursed.
“You are his parent,” she repeated. “…and the longer you refuse to act like it and let him handle the business and the household and his siblings, he will forget it and start to challenge you in your own home.”
You didn’t have the heart to tell Mrs. Thornton that it didn’t exactly feel like your home anymore. At least not without Ward. While it relieved you that Sarah and Wheezie still treated you as they did before his death, you still couldn’t help but worry that without him around they would soon refuse to take you seriously as a parent. Part of you wouldn’t even blame them.
You’d only been in their life for three years, six months of which you were just their father’s silly twenty something girlfriend. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that they never expected him to actually marry you. Rafe had made that pretty clear when Ward had broken the news with you at his side.
It was a week later when you found yourself knocking on the door of Ward’s study. You supposed that it belonged to Rafe, now, and that correction made your heart clench. Even seeing him in the same spot where Ward often sat made you falter, and it took you a moment to remember why you’d disturbed him. Mrs. Thornton’s words were front and center in your mind.
“We need to have a serious talk about the business.”
At your words, Rafe only tilted his head, and you noted how out of place he looked in Ward’s space. Rafe was so young and everything about him betrayed his mindset and inexperience and impulsive tendencies. He didn’t belong, at all, but who were you to deny him his birthright?
“What about it?” he finally wondered, and you were hyperaware that he was watching your every move as you walked about the room.
“I think that I should be more involved with it,” you told him, continuing at his frown. “Rafe, you’re only nineteen, and like you’d said. You weren’t prepared to be fully involved in this for at least another decade.”
You watched him toss some papers aside at that, and the look he fixed you with made you swallow. It was reminiscent of the Rafe you were used to. You didn’t miss the way he dragged his blue gaze over you, sizing you up, and you definitely didn’t like it.
“You don’t know anything about it.”
The acknowledgement that Ward had never included you in these matters stung, but you only sighed.
“No…but…”
Your words died in the air as Rafe stood, and you had an inkling of what he was going to say by the look on his face.
“Do you even want to be involved in my dad’s business?” he asked you, leaning against the desk with his hands pressed into the wood. “Or are you just listening to Topper’s mom again?”
The blond chuckled at your silence, and it lacked humor.
“My dad left it to me,” he finally said, holding your gaze. “…and I know you think you should be involved because…well…you’re the parent, now…”
You didn’t like the way he rolled his eyes at that, and you blinked when Rafe straightened, nearing you.
“…but you don’t get it.”
Rafe looked between your eyes.
“I disappointed him too much while he was here, and this… This is my chance to make him proud,” he admitted, and your shoulders drooped.
“Rafe…”
“…and not just with his business,” he continued. “He’s gone…so now I have to step up and be the man of the house.”
Despite the fact that you could see where Rafe was coming from, you didn’t necessarily agree. He was too young to be putting so much pressure on himself to follow Ward’s footsteps and make up for his absence. That was your job, and you heaved a sigh, looking down. You’d just started to shake your head when he spoke again.
“Besides…you’re still knocking back…what? Twelve bottles a week?”
You reared back at that, lifting your gaze as he’d already started turning away from you.
“I’m not saying it to be mean,” he assured you, leaning against the desk and intently watching you. “I’m just stating a fact.”
Your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden.
“My dad’s death hit you really hard, and I get it. Mrs. Thornton is telling you that you’re the parent—the adult—and so you need to put me in my place and step into your role.”
You looked away, avoiding his eye.
“…but you can barely function most days, and I treated you like shit on more than one occasion, so…” you reluctantly met his gaze again. “It’s only fair that you let me look after you, now.”
You wanted to tell him that that wasn’t his job, and that more importantly, it should be the other way around. However, he was right. In your condition, you’d screw everything up and drive the whole family into debt. It wouldn’t be like this forever, you knew that, and so you reluctantly agreed that you needed time to get yourself together before you fucked it all up.
You woke up in tears, chest tight as you struggled to breathe.
It wasn’t the first time you dreamed about Ward, but instead of a good dream it was only a memory of that day Shoupe had knocked on your door. You’d felt trapped and panicked as you watched on, telling yourself not to answer it. Somehow, if you didn’t answer it then it wouldn’t be true. He wouldn’t be dead but just…still on his boat…enjoying a long vacation.
The events played out just like they did that day. You’d been able to feel the dread deep in your gut at the look on Shoupe’s face, and you kept screaming at yourself to kick him out of your house, that he had nothing good to tell you. You watched the way your face fell and the way your hands shook, and Rafe had only walked into the room for two seconds before hurrying to grab you when your knees buckled. He’d held you, fighting to calm you down as you wailed…
Much like he was doing now.
“Hey, hey,” you heard him harshly whisper, arms tight around you as he kept you from bucking around on the bed. “Y/N…”
Your nails dug into his arm as you tried to catch your breath, but your choked sobs were coming out too fast to give you any kind of reprieve. You could feel Rafe’s chest at your back as he moved closer, and one of his arms snaked around your neck as he held you in place.
“Is she okay?”
It was only then that you realized the hallway light was on and bleeding into the otherwise dark room. Wheezie sounded worried—scared—and you cursed yourself for doing that to her. You were supposed to be their support, comforting them and providing a safe space during this awful time in their lives, and instead it was the other way around.
You both heard and felt Rafe sigh.
“Yeah, she’ll…she’ll be fine. Wheezie, you should go back to bed,” he told her. “Now.”
You could only assume she listened to him, and Rafe only let you go when your breathing started to slow. You weren’t crying as hard when he laid you back down, and his absence was only felt for a few minutes before the bed dipped again. You felt him put a pill in your hand, and you frowned at it as he pulled you into a sitting position.
“Take this,” he told you, pushing your hand towards your mouth.
“What…?”
“It’ll help you sleep,” was all he said, forcing you to pop it into your mouth, a glass of water being pressed to your lips almost immediately.
In your distress, some slipped past your lips, and Rafe beat you to it in brushing his thumb across your chin. Slowly blinking, you laid back down, and you heard Rafe set the glass of water aside. You naturally thought that he’d leave, but you were surprised to feel his hand on the side of your face, smoothing it over your face and hair.
You really didn’t like that he was taking on a role that should’ve been yours, and after some time, you quietly mumbled an apology.
“I loved him,” you whispered in the darkness, and you felt Rafe freeze. “I know you guys think that I didn’t. I know what you and your friends have probably said about me behind my back.”
You tiredly scoffed, more tears escaping as you squeezed your eyes shut.
“…but I loved your father very much, and I wasn’t prepared to do this alone.”
Rafe didn’t say anything, but he didn’t move either, and you pressed your hand to your face, feeling the pill taking effect.
“I don’t know what to do,” you choked out. “He was supposed to be here, Rafe, I’m not supposed to do this alone.”
You could feel your chest tightening again, and Rafe shushed you. You could feel your body becoming lighter, and you welcomed it, face relaxing and breathing slowing. Rafe was still next to you, his body so close to yours that you could feel the heat coming off of it. You didn’t have the strength to push his hand away as his fingers grazed your cheek, and after some time you felt him pull the cover over you.
You didn’t feel him move or leave, but you became less concerned about that the more your fatigue grew.
You stared at Wheezie’s hopeful face, chewing on your lip as you contemplated her request.
“Have I met Natalie’s parents before?” you wondered, and you realized your mistake in asking that when her face dimmed.
“I don’t think so, but…dad did.”
You slowly nodded at that, whispering a small ‘right’ before looking away. It was a Friday evening, and in order to make up for your less than stellar behavior, you’d planned to cook and have dinner as a family—something that hadn’t been done in months. However, Sarah’s plans with her boyfriend put a damper on that, and now Wheezie was asking to stay over at a friend’s.
It didn’t seem fair to make Wheezie stay while Sarah didn’t. Granted, Sarah hadn’t exactly asked you, but still. The plan was to have dinner as a family anyway, and without Sarah, that wish was already ruined. The way you saw it, you might as well let Wheezie go, but you didn’t know Natalie’s parents, and so you felt unsure.
Rafe came into the kitchen then, and with one look between you, he deduced that a serious discussion was being had.
“What’s wrong?” he asked no one in particular.
“I’m asking mom if I can sleep over at Natalie’s tonight.”
“…and I’ve never met Natalie’s parents so…”
You watched Rafe chuckle at that, lips curving into a smirk as he moved to taste the vodka sauce on the stove.
“They’re almost as uptight as Topper’s mom, so Wheezie will be in good hands if that’s what you’re worried about,” he told you, tone light.
While that reassured you, you still felt a little down about your plans for the evening being ruined. You got the feeling that it was noticeable, and you flinched a bit when you felt Rafe’s hands briefly come down on your shoulders before brushing past you.
“You can do your family dinner thing another night,” he suggested, shrugging at you. “Sarah won’t be here anyway.”
Wheezie gave you a pouty lip, and you thought it over. If she said that Ward had met them before, and Rafe confirmed that they were indeed trustworthy, then you didn’t see why not. Even still, you unintentionally found yourself looking to Rafe, and when he gave you the barest of nods, you smiled at the thirteen-year-old.
“Okay,” you breathed, and she jumped up with her phone in hand.
“Natalie’s mom is picking me up,” she threw over her shoulder, hurriedly heading for the stairs.
You were happy to see her coping better with things, so you tried to focus on that instead of the fact that you’d be eating alone. Turning back to the stove, you turned the dial down to a simmer, half expecting Rafe to be gone when you turned around. He wasn’t, and you didn’t miss the way he eyed you as he leaned his arms on the counter.
“Let me guess, you have plans too? It’s Friday, and that usually means you’ll be out somewhere with Topper and Kelce.”
The crooked smile on his face was mocking as he peered up at you from beneath his lashes.
“It’s family dinner night.”
You only rolled your eyes at that, turning away from him.
“You’re nineteen, Rafe. I don’t expect you to turn down plans with your friends just to stay home and sit across from your stepmom,” you sighed. “You can go, it’s fine.”
“You and I both know I don’t do anything I don’t want to do,” he said, something you silently agreed on. “I want to stay.”
When you looked at him again, you were surprised to find him standing much closer, now. You hadn’t even heard him move nor realize just how close his voice was. You couldn’t place the look on the blonde’s face as he stared at you, and you watched him reach up to grab a plate.
“Why?” you chuckled.
Despite how nice he was being now, you both knew that it was only the case because of Ward’s death. Rafe had never cared for you, and if the circumstances were different, he wouldn’t hesitate to get as far away from this house as possible. You felt like Rafe’s thoughts were probably mirroring your own, something passing through his gaze that looked a lot like confusion.
“…because you loved him. Probably more than me,” he shrugged.
You frowned because you didn’t agree with that, at all, and you told him so.
“I think there are very few people who can love someone as much as a son loves his father.”
You threw Rafe a small smile, reaching out to rest your hand on his arm.
“…and you did love him, Rafe. Sure, you guys fought worse than teenage sisters at times,” you breathed, frantically blinking at the memories. “…but that’s just because he wanted the best for you, and you had your own problems that didn’t stop you from disappointing him.”
You tilted your head at him when he looked away.
“You idolized him, and all you wanted was to make him proud. It made things very complicated, but please don’t ever say I loved him more than you did.”
When Rafe looked at you again, there was a deep frown on his face, and for some reason, you felt very small beneath his stare.
“…but you did,” he said with a small shrug, gesturing around. “I mean, look at you.”
You blinked.
“You have to be medicated just to get some sleep, and you still don’t remember staring at the wall for days after he died.”
You felt a chill pass through you at his words, hating how much you’d let them down, but also because there was something about the way Rafe stepped towards you and held your gaze that you didn’t think you liked. It made an unsure feeling twist deep in your gut for some reason.
“So, no. I don’t want to go anywhere with Kelce and Top, not when my dad’s wife is one bad day away from a psychotic break,” he whispered. “He would want me to take care of you.”
His words were reminiscent of the same ones he’d spoken to you in Ward’s study that day, but unlike that day, today they made you feel uneasy, and you didn’t know why. You dropped your hand, taking a step back from him just as Wheezie’s voice reached your ears.
“Natalie’s mom is outside, I’ll text you when I get there,” she called as she ran through the house.
Your voice cracked when you told her to have fun, but you didn’t think she heard, the door slamming shut mid-sentence. Forcing yourself to turn away from Rafe, you grabbed a plate with shaky hands, Mrs. Thornton’s words echoing in your mind that Rafe’s new role in the household wasn’t healthy.
“I swear I’m not doing it to be a bitch, okay?” Sarah’s voice reached your ears. “It’s just really hard to be around her without thinking about dad.”
You swallowed at her words, taking a step back on the stairs,
“Especially when it’s obvious just how hard she’s taking it,” she said. “I mean, she’s a little better, sure, but those sleeping pills you give her aren’t doing a thing. She’s not tired, Rafe, she’s depressed.”
“Well, you’re making her feel like shit,” you heard him reply, a tone in his voice that you hadn’t heard in quite some time. “This is the fourth dinner you skipped out on for your Pogue boyfriend.”
The younger girl didn’t respond right away.
“I’m sorry,” you heard her eventually say. “When did you start caring about her anyway? Weren’t you the one who called her some gold-digger, saying she was coming for your spot in the will?”
That didn’t shock you nor hurt you, long imagining that Rafe had said far worse. You heard him heave a sigh, and it sounded angry.
“Dad’s gone, Sarah, and that means we should stay together as a family,” he sneered. “…and I’m doing what I can to make that happen.”
You heard a slight scuffle, and you hurriedly made your way down the stairs and towards the kitchen. It had been some time since you heard Rafe and Sarah fight, something you definitely didn’t miss, but considering the topic of this discussion, it didn’t surprise you that it was a little more emotionally charged than normal.
When you rounded the corner, Rafe had a tight grip on Sarah’s arm, the younger girl trying to leave with her purse in hand. The expression on his face was unnerving, a deep frown between his brows with his lip curled over his teeth a she got in her face.
“Things are going to be different, now.”
“Rafe.”
Sarah’s eyes were wide and terrified when she looked at you, relaxing a bit at your presence, and you were relieved when Rafe let her go. Sarah only briefly acknowledged you on her way out, desperate to get away from Rafe, and you watched the way he glared after her.
“Rafe, it’s fine,” you told him. “She’s allowed to hang out with her friends for whatever reasons she wants, especially now.”
“Are you going to use that excuse forever? Just because dad died it doesn’t mean that she can do whatever she wants,” he snapped, gesturing towards the door.
“She’s grieving!”
“She’s using it as an excuse to be a shitty daughter, and you’re just letting her.”
You reared back at both his words and his tone, and for the first time in months, you felt something like anger bubble up in your chest.
“It’s not your place to tell me how to raise her. She’s not your daughter,” you spat.
The small laugh that he let out lacked humor, and by the look on his face, you knew that there was something on the tip of his tongue that you would hate.
“Yeah, well, she’s barely yours.”
You could tell that he wanted to take it back almost as soon as he said it, and you pressed your lips together just as he touched his forehead.
“Fuck, that’s not…”
His words trailed off, and you crossed your arms over your chest. You were only thirteen years older than Sarah and knew her for all of three years, so it wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same at times, but it still hurt to hear. It’s like Rafe was voicing your worst fears that she would come to lack respect for you and your presence in her life as a mom.
You didn’t know how to do this…and everyone knew it.
“I just feel like…you’re treating her like dad did, letting her get away with everything, and I hate it,” he slowly said.
Rafe’s feelings about Sarah had never been a secret, and neither had Ward’s. You wouldn’t ever deny the fact that Ward favored her, and it was unfortunately noticeable, something that was always visibly distressing for Rafe. With Ward gone—and with Rafe feeling like he now needed to be the man of the house—this made for a very complex situation.
You couldn’t tell what was rightful concern and what was just Rafe wanting to put Sarah in her place, something he’d never been subtle about.
“I wasn’t expecting to be left raising teenagers by myself before I was even thirty, Rafe,” you finally replied. “I’m trying…”
“I know you are,” he hurried to say, quickly approaching you and reaching for you. “That’s why I’m trying to help.”
You backed away from him before he could touch you, and you didn’t miss the way his expression clouded over at that. Looking away, you swiped your tongue between your lips, choosing your next words carefully. You could feel his heated gaze burning a hole into your face.
“I get that you’re trying to help, and believe me when I say I’m so appreciative of it, Rafe, but… It is not your place,” you carefully said, looking at him again.
You watched him roll his eyes towards the ceiling, nodding to himself. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and when his gaze fell back to you, you immediately knew that you didn’t like it. Rafe’s nostrils flared, and you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that your words had bothered him, no matter how carefully you chose them.
“What you mean is you’re the parent, I’m not, and I need to stay in a child’s place.”
You sighed at that.
“Not necessarily, I just-.”
“…because if that were true, who would’ve driven Wheezie to school on the mornings when you couldn’t even get out of bed?”
You didn’t appreciate him throwing that in your face, and by the look in his eyes, you could tell he wasn’t done.
“You want me to stay in my place, but I’m the one who made the funeral arrangements and answered the important questions and kept this house together when the woman our dad married was too grief stricken to even stand on her own two feet.”
You bit your tongue, warily eyeing him as he moved to stand directly before you.
“Dad died, and I stepped up. Not you…me,” he firmly told you. “…and now that you’re sort of kind of getting your shit together, you just want to pretend like I should have no say in any of this.”
You didn’t like how close Rafe was, but when you went to take a step back, his hand shot out to dig into your arm, preventing you from doing so. You winced at the tight grip, and you swore you saw his face soften some at the sight. His grip certainly did, and you almost wished that it didn’t because the gentle way he held your arm and the gentle way he looked between your eyes made you deeply uncomfortable.
“Someone has to be the man of the house, now…and it falls to me,” he whispered.
You didn’t even have a proper response for that, feeling wholly unnerved as you stared at one another, and you took a deep breath.
“Let go of me, Rafe,” you quietly said.
You were relieved when he listened, almost convinced that he wouldn’t, and you touched your arm with a step back. You studied his face, searching for what? You didn’t know, but again…Mrs. Thornton’s words would not leave your mind, and you hated the way your lips trembled.
“Do not touch me like that again.”
Your tone was even, but you were sure your eyes betrayed you because Rafe merely raised an eyebrow at you.
“Or what? You’ll send me to my room?”
Your heart sank at his mocking words and the subtle challenge in them, and despite how much nicer Rafe’s next words were, they didn’t make you any less uneasy.
“I’m just trying to do right by my dad and look after everything he left behind.”
His words seemed innocent enough, but for the first time, you allowed yourself to wonder just what that entailed exactly and what role he expected to play in this family. You didn’t want your mind to linger on something that couldn’t be true, and so you left him without another word.
The feel of a hand shaking your shoulder is what pulled you from sleep, and it took you a long time to peel your eyes open. Doing so felt difficult for some reason, and when you exhaled—smelling the wine on your breath—you realized why. Rafe’s face was the one that met you, and you immediately squeezed your eyes shut.
“Y/N,” he gently said. “It’s late.”
As he said this, you realized that you were on the couch, and it didn’t take you long to surmise that you’d fallen asleep there. You didn’t want to move, but you also didn’t want to spend the rest of the night on the couch, knowing you’d regret it the moment you stood up in the morning. Just when you were about to mumble to Rafe to leave you be, you heard him sigh before feeling his arms slide underneath you.
In an effort to keep from falling, you quickly held onto him.
“Rafe,” you mumbled, disapproving.
“Wheezie has friends coming over in the morning,” you were barely able to make out. “I don’t think their moms would appreciate stumbling upon you asleep and hungover on the couch.”
He chuckled to himself as he climbed the stairs.
“They already don’t like you…”
You merely hummed at that, and you were relieved when you felt yourself being deposited onto the bed. Rafe was saying something else to you, but none of it registered as you sought out sleep once again. Your intentions were interrupted though when you felt a hand on your face, and even in your inebriated state, you knew it didn’t feel right. Forcing your eyes open, you struggled to push Rafe’s hand away.
“I just want to make sure you don’t throw up in your sleep,” he mumbled when your eyes blearily met his. “Is that okay?”
You drunkenly blinked at him, lips trembling.
“Why don’t you call me ‘mom’?”
Your question was whispered, voice shaky, and as much as you wanted him out of your bedroom, you also wanted him to answer the question. The house was quiet, both Wheezie and Sarah asleep, and the only light was that of the light in the hall. You didn’t take your eyes off of Rafe as you waited for him to answer no matter how much you wanted to.
In the low lighting, you could see the way his dirty blond hair hung onto his forehead, the light glinting off of his blue eyes.
“I never have,” was his response.
“Well, maybe you should,” you forced out. “I don’t want you saying my name anymore.”
You didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared at that.
“Why not?”
“…because I don’t like it,” you confessed, tears kissing your eyes. “Not anymore.”
His face fell a bit at the way your voice cracked, and when he reached for you again, you hurriedly sat up.
The silence was loud as you just stared at each other, something unspoken passing between you. You felt like you wanted to crawl out of your own skin whenever he so much as looked at you, now, thoughts running wild with what you prayed to be untrue. His stony expression told you that they weren’t, that he’d been found out, and in your drunken state, you couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over.
When he reached for you again, it startled you right off of the bed.
The night stand shook as you fell against it, and you cried out in pain just as Rafe cursed. You didn’t want his help, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t need it as he hurried to reach you. The feel of his hands on you burned and not in a good way, causing you to flinch away from his touch. That didn’t deter him though, and his grip was tight as he kept you in place, his other hand reaching for your head.
“Did you hit your head? Are you-?”
“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, shoving at his chest, and Rafe grew quiet.
The only sound for a while was your soft sobs, and Rafe’s refusal to leave you alone kept him kneeling before you. When you tried to stand up, he ignored your protests, reaching out and helping you. You swayed, and Rafe kept you close much to your chagrin. You wanted him gone as soon as possible, so you were quick to sit back down, but Rafe didn’t let your waist or your hand go.
Swooping down, he captured your lips in a kiss.
You wanted to gag.
His hand was almost painfully twisted around yours, making you wince, and every attempt to scoot back was only met with the resistance of his hand on your waist. Your stomach churned as he moved his mouth against yours, wanting to be sick at the feel of him kissing you on the same bed where Ward used to sleep. When his fingers dipped beneath your shirt, you bit him.
Hard.
You took the moment to remove yourself as he cried out, hurrying towards the bathroom and locking yourself inside. That awful sick feeling wasn’t as hollow as you thought, your knees hitting the floor almost as soon as you made it inside, head bent in the toilet. You couldn’t stop crying as you emptied your stomach, throat scratchy from the alcohol that was coming back up.
When you were able to catch your breath, you were shaking. You could still feel Rafe’s lips on yours, and on top of everything else you were forced to deal with in the months following your husband’s death, this was the last thing you’d ever anticipated.
You’d slept on the bathroom floor that night, refusing to leave and face Rafe. If Sarah and Wheezie noticed the tension between the two of you, they didn’t comment on it or at the very least, not to you. The knowledge that Rafe wanted to take Ward’s place in every facet of the household made you sick, and while neither of you mentioned that night, it also felt clear between the two of you that it wouldn’t be ignored forever.
You wanted him out of the house.
…but that wasn’t your place, was it? Rafe had more of a right to all of this way more than you did, and you couldn’t be the one to leave. Rafe may have been nineteen and an adult in the eyes of the law, but no matter how much of a 180 he’d done, you couldn’t trust him to properly raise Wheezie and Sarah. Especially now that you knew his 180 had less to do with just wanting to be a better person or more about taking on the role Ward had played in every way.
You shuddered at the thought, and oddly enough, this tempted you to drink yourself into a stupor more than Ward’s death ever did.
You and Rafe were ten years apart, so seeing him like a son had always been hard at times, but it didn’t stop you from treating him like one in the years that you’d been with his father. You’d liked to think that the sentiment was returned, and maybe at one time it had been, and maybe after Ward’s death things just…changed.
Was this your fault?
Had you dropped the ball so hard that he couldn’t even bring himself to see you as a parental figure anymore? Did he stop trying to respect you as one or…? Or did it have to do with how much he’d had to take care of you? You didn’t treat him any different, talk to him any different, so maybe you hadn’t done anything to change his perception of you.
Even if you had…what could you possibly have done to make him see you as a potential partner?
As if your nights weren’t bad enough—haunted by memories of Ward and that day you’d been told he was dead—you were now also kept awake by the knowledge that your stepson very much wanted to fill the void left by his father. And maybe if Rafe were anyone else, you could’ve talked about this, tried to sort through this, but Rafe was Rafe, and you reminded yourself that the Rafe you were accustomed to had only disappeared less than six months ago.
…and you’d seen hints of him just peeking from below the surface.
You resisted the urge to drink these days, positive that one sip would have you spiraling. You didn’t know how to cope with this new development, but you knew it couldn’t be that way. It didn’t go unnoticed that the night Rafe kissed you, you’d been drunk out of your mind, completely vulnerable to him. You also couldn’t bring yourself to take anymore sleeping pills, recalling Sarah’s words that day as she’d told Rafe that you were depressed…not tired.
She was right.
…and so despite the difficulty, you forced yourself to try and sleep without medication night after night. It was hard for several reasons, the most pressing of which being the unnerving presence of the nineteen-year-old just down the hall. It made it hard to find sleep most nights, and on the nights in which you did, you still do so with only maybe four hours to your name.
It was noticeable.
“I can stay and help, you know. It’s just John B., and he’ll understand why I’m late,” Sarah offered.
You could see by the look on her face that she was worried about you, and despite your attempt, you knew that your reassuring smile didn’t convince her.
“Sarah, it’s a Saturday night,” you told her. “I’m not going to make you stay and help me clean the kitchen, especially when you helped me cook and stayed for dinner.”
She looked like she wanted to argue but decided against it.
“Yeah, I’m glad I did.”
Her tone told you that she was feeling bad about the other dinners she’d skipped out on, and you were proven right.
“I’m sorry about not staying for all the others and…basically avoiding you,” she quietly apologized. “It’s just that Ward cared about you a lot, and when I’m around you, it’s easy to see why…and it just makes me think about him.”
You only exhaled at that, letting out a small chuckle as you washed the dishes.
“You don’t have to apologize, Sarah. I get it,” you whispered, pausing. “I miss him too.”
“Yeah, well, he’s an asshole, but Rafe was kind of right in confronting me over my behavior.”
The mention of Rafe had your hairs standing on end, and you swallowed down a sigh, still unsure what you were going to do about the blond.
“There were better ways for him to get his point across…”
Sarah only found that funny, softly laughing to herself.
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t be Rafe if he didn’t be rude about it, so,” she trailed off, pushing away from the counter. “I’ll be back before 1.”
You hummed at that, letting her know that was okay, and it was only ten minutes later that you were alone. Wheezie went to a sleepover just after dinner, and Rafe hadn’t been home all day. Before where that would have concerned you, now you could only be relieved to get some reprieve from the oldest Cameron. God knows that you needed the space to think.
Going over every scenario in your mind, the best one seemed to be to hope that it would just go away. You didn’t want to find yourself in some sort of legal battle if you even attempted to kick Rafe out and basically bar him from his own home. Legality of it all aside, it just wasn’t morally right. This was where he grew up, his safe space, and you couldn’t even pretend to feel comfortable at the thought.
The other option just wasn’t even an option. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t just pack up and abandon Wheezie and Sarah. Never mind the fact that you’d been in their lives for three years now, but now more than ever they needed stability. Their father only just died, and what kind of person would you be if you decided you just didn’t want to be responsible for them anymore? Allowing Rafe to run you off wasn’t an option.
Besides, there was a tiny and terrifying voice in the back of your head anyway that said he wouldn’t even let you.
It was an hour later that you found yourself in bed after cleaning the kitchen and taking a bath. You needed the soak, needed to do whatever you could to relax you. It wasn’t even ten o’clock, but considering how hard sleep was for you to find lately, you figured there was no harm in letting your head hit the pillow early.
Maybe you could trick your body into going to sleep at a decent time.
The minutes dragged on and were made to feel like hours, but the silence of the house and the fact that you were alone did more wonders than you thought. You could feel your eyelids becoming heavy, and what little sounds you could make out from outside slowly started to fade. The last thing you recalled was your body feeling heavier…
…and then you were standing in front of Shoupe, and he was telling you that Ward was dead, and you couldn’t even stand on your feet anymore.
You sat up with a gasp, struggling to breathe, and by the way your vision blurred, you knew that you’d been crying in your sleep. There was a voice in your ear shushing you, and despite the fact that you knew who the hands on your arms belonged to, your mind was too preoccupied with painful memories to fully register it.
Rafe pulled you against him, holding you to him as you sobbed, thinking to yourself that it had been a few weeks since you���d had a really bad reaction. You shook in his hold, head bowed as you wailed, and you were momentarily grateful that the house was empty. The blond rocked you, forcing you to press your face into the crook of his neck, and it was only then that you registered the smell of alcohol.
Before you could gather yourself to ask Rafe where he’d been, his hands were clumsily grasping at your face.
You sharply inhaled when he kissed you…again. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue, and you were so distraught that it took you too long to realize what was happening. The kiss was hungry, Rafe tasting the inside of your mouth and kissing you in a way that might’ve taken your breath away under different circumstances.
As it were, you could only register that you were being kissed by your deceased husband’s son again. It made your stomach twist uncomfortably, and your efforts to reach up and pull his hands away from your face were futile. You made a noise of protest, attempting to lean away, but he ignored it. Even when you bit at him like before, he ignored it.
With horror, you realized that Rafe wasn’t stopping it.
Panic began to set in, and when you shoved at his chest, he quickly reached to close his hand around your wrist. At the same time, he leaned into you more, forcing you back, and you didn’t put your hand down in time to prevent that. With him now on top of you, your heart was threatening to leap from your chest.
“Rafe,” you gasped when he pulled away. “Rafe, stop!”
Your voice came out panicked and shrill, but instead of listening to you, the sounds were only joined by that of your shorts ripping.
“He would want me to look after you,” he drunkenly murmured, making your stomach drop.
You both fought for the right to your shirt, you trying to keep it on and Rafe trying to take it off. You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack, telling yourself that this wasn’t happening. In the worst way possible, you discovered that Rafe was much stronger than he looked, feeling like you got the wind knocked out of you when he roughly shoved you down after your attempt to sit up.
You could hear yourself crying, and you knew that Rafe could too.
With a hand tightly snaking around your throat, his other fumbled to get his own pants off. Focused on trying to breathe, you reached up to pull at his hand. You could hear a ringing in your ears, and your chest felt tighter than it did when you first woke up from your nightmare. His lower half was pinning you down, and the blood you could feel yourself drawing on his hand and arm didn’t slow him down.
He was shushing you when you felt his skin against yours, and one of your hands twisted into his shirt as he started to push himself into you. The feel had your feet stretching, and you let out a choked sound despite the pressure on your throat. He was torturously slow in stretching you out around him, and with every further push of his hips, you clawed at his shirt some more.
He only let your neck go when his hips were firmly pressed against yours.
As you coughed and wheezed, he reached behind his head to pull the fabric off, tossing it somewhere without a car. The moment his chest was bare, he reached for you again despite your difficulty to breathe, and his lips covered yours in another kiss. You didn’t even have time to register the kiss because he was thrusting into you with abandon. His hips were wildly snapping against yours, and you gasped into his mouth.
Rafe searched for your hands, threading his fingers through your own and pinning it against the bed next to your head. His other hand was digging into your hips, kipping them in place as he fucked you. You struggled to catch your breath, sharply inhaling and gasping with every thrust. The stretch was unfamiliar, and your mind spun with the fact that you hadn’t experienced this in months and also who it was with.
When Rafe pulled his lips away from yours, you let out a sob, and he gently shushed you, curving his hips into yours.
“Let me take care of you,” he murmured in the darkness. “It’s okay.”
You had so much you wanted to scream and shout at the blond, but you couldn’t even find the words. With every feeling of his cock sliding against your walls, your eyes rolled. His head fell next to yours, his heavy breathing in your ear as he pinned you down with his entire body. You weren’t able to move, only forced to lie beneath him and feel what he was doing to you.
He grunted in your ear with a particularly hard thrust, and you let out a yelp.
Just then, you heard the door open downstairs, and hearing it too, Rafe stopped. He was quick to cover your mouth with a hand, and he was completely still as you heard who you surmised was Sarah coming up the stairs. Your heart was so heavy in your chest, and it was all you could hear in your ears.
When she made it to the hallway, she stopped.
“Y/N, are you asleep?” she called.
At that, Rafe pressed down harder on both your mouth and you, and after a few moments, you heard the younger girl sigh. When the sound of her room door shutting reached your ears, Rafe kept his hand on your mouth, but he felt compelled to keep fucking you.
He was slow in doing so, now, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
He slowly dragged his cock in and out of you, pulling his hips back until just the tip remained—sometimes pulling out completely—before pushing back in and making your chest arch up into his. He quietly told you that it was okay, softly groaning as you unintentionally squeezed him. Rafe’s lips brushed against your neck and jaw, and now that the two of you were no longer alone, the room was deathly quiet.
So quiet that you could hear the sound of his cock plunging into you.
It was a sound that embarrassed you, a sound that made you want to cry. Rafe’s arms trembled as he fought to keep himself from just relaxing on top of you completely, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him that if he uncovered your mouth, you wouldn’t even scream. You would be too ashamed to let anyone know what Rafe Cameron was doing to you.
With his lips at your neck, you could feel them move as he talked.
“My dad’s gone…”
The mention of Ward in this moment made more tears spill over, and when he slowly removed his hand, you let out a shaky breath as you silently cried. Lifting his head, Rafe’s gaze found yours, his hips still slowly pushing against yours.
“…and I know that it’s killing you, but…”
He swallowed, looking between your eyes.
“…but you have me, now,” you let out a soft cry at that. “You do, and I’m…I’m going to take care of you.”
His hand reached up to touch your face, the tips of his fingers grazing your wet cheek. You shook your head, feeling like you were going to be sick, and Rafe only shushed you. His lips followed yours as you attempted to turn your head away, and you could taste your tears in the kiss.
“I’ve got the business…I’ve got the family ring…” his lips moved against yours as he spoke into the kiss. “…and I’ve got you.”
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#obx#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine
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Deep in the Woods: Part 2
Pairing: Soft!Dark Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: A relaxing getaway in the woods may become your permanent home when you catch the eye of a lumberjack.
Part 1 | Series Masterlist | Part 3
Chapter Summary: You chat with a friend about the grumpy lumberjack and pay him a visit.
Chapter Word Count: Over 4.5k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, bits of MCU canon, cheating mentioned (reader's ex), grumpy x sunshine trope, invasive behavior, bits of insecurity, tension, reader is too trusting, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: Next part of our lumberjack is here! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky didn’t make small talk when he came back to the table with his second helping. You sat for maybe a minute before you went to clean out your bowl. As pretty as he was to look at, it felt rude to sit there and watch him eat and you weren’t going to force him to chat. Standing at the sink, you felt him staring at you. He didn’t look away either when you snuck a glance at him. He looked fascinated and you couldn't imagine why.
“Do I have food on my face?” you asked, swiping at your cheek when he continued to stare.
“No.” He swallowed his last bite and licked his lips, making your cheeks warm as you looked away. “Was just looking at you.”
You glanced down at yourself, a nervous giggle bubbling up. “Not much to look at,” you mumbled, going back to get his empty bowl. “So, you said early afternoon tomorrow to go to your place. Will 1 o’clock work?”
He leaned back in his chair, nodding. “Should be fine,” he said, observing you in continued curiosity as you finished cleaning up. You weren't used to someone observing you the way he did, and you couldn't pinpoint if the feeling in your stomach was nerves or butterflies. “You trying to kick me out?”
“No,” you said, your brows pinched as you sat back down. “Does it seem like I am?”
“Just cleaning up quickly and asking about tomorrow. Seemed like you were trying to get me out of here.” He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “I could be wrong.”
“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” You hadn’t exactly planned for his company, but you didn’t mind, and you weren’t trying to be a bad hostess. You almost reached across the table to touch his hand but opted to give him a soft smile instead. “It’s nice having you here.”
His gaze softened, his lips inching upward before he cleared his throat. “Any plans for the rest of the day?”
“Not really. I do have to get on my laptop for just a few minutes, but that’s it,” you answered. Since the trip was meant to be a romantic getaway and you were alone now, you didn't have much of anything planned besides relaxing. “You?”
“No,” he said, tilting his head. “Why did you say that earlier?”
“Why did I say what?” you asked.
“That you aren't much to look at,” he said, tilting his head with another tiny smile that made your knees go weak. “You’re beautiful.”
Your eyes widened, your cheeks hot. “That’s…” You thought for a second that he was joking, but his eyes were serious. The compliment was also completely unexpected, especially from a man who wasn't too welcoming a short time ago. “Thank you, Bucky, but I’m not-”
“Don’t do that. If I made you uncomfortable, just say so.” His cheek twitched and guilt churned in your stomach at the thought of upsetting him. “You don't need to brush off the compliment by trying to put yourself down.”
You looked in your lap, not wanting him to see the sadness in your eyes. Your ex should've called you beautiful, should've made you feel that way, too. And what happened? He strayed. You couldn't hold onto him. As much as you wanted to think there wasn't anything wrong with you, there was still that voice of doubt that said you weren't good enough or pretty enough. Insecurities had a tendency to seep in like poison. What was the remedy for that?
“I wasn't trying to brush off your compliment,” you promised, lifting your gaze. He didn’t look convinced and that made you feel worse. He was only being nice. “It’s just… My confidence is a little shaken and self-deprecating is a defense mechanism, I guess.”
You wanted to run to the bedroom and hide when he regarded you. Why did you tell him that? Why did you tell him anything? He wasn’t your friend or confidant, and it wasn’t fair to unload anything like that onto him.
“I’m sorry. I-”
“Don’t apologize. I understand what it's like,” he said, glancing at his metal hand. “To have your confidence shaken.”
After what he had been through, you could only imagine. “How did you pull yourself out of it?”
“Still working on that,” he replied, his eyes distant as he pushed himself up from his chair. “I should get going.”
“Oh, okay,” you smiled politely and got up to follow him to the door. While it wasn’t your intention to push him out, you may have inadvertently driven him away. “Thanks again for chopping the firewood.” It saved you a lot of trouble.
“Thanks for the meal.” He swept his eyes over you once his boots were on. “Guess we took care of each other, huh?”
“I guess we did,” you said. And you really appreciated his compliment. It felt nice after everything.
You were reminded once again just how large he was when he straightened up, your heart racing when he stood directly in front of you. That close you could smell the forest on his shirt. “Don’t touch that axe again,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. “If you need anything, you come to me.”
Your throat went dry. He was so dominant in his stance, something in his tone sending a delightful shiver down your spine. There was also a predatory shadow in his eyes that gave you pause. He could eat you alive.
Out here, all alone, he could do anything.
“Say it,” he whispered.
“If I need anything.” You had to clear your throat. “I’ll come to you.”
Bucky stepped back and took some of the warmth with him. “Lock the door tonight. I need you safe,” he said, leaving without another word.
The silence in the cabin was deafening as you were left alone. Bucky was… something. Curt at times, a bit defensive, and didn’t have regard for your personal space bubble, but you weren’t going to judge his social skills when yours were nowhere near perfect. He also seemed to like your company at least a little and was oddly protective of you.
“Probably thinks I’m just a damsel in distress,” you muttered, going to get your laptop.
You thought back to the conversation you had with Bucky. He was out here for nine months now and had a cat. And you… your stomach sank when you realized you told him you lived alone and worked from home. He already knew you were out there by yourself and you basically implied that no one would realize if you were gone. At least, not right away.
“It’s fine,” you said, pushing the weird feeling away. Bucky Barnes was a hero, and you were a stranger in his territory. It was natural that he’d have questions. You had nothing to worry about.
You decided to sit out on the porch so you could look at the picturesque view again. Part of you wondered what it would be like to live out here full time. To walk outside on a cool morning and inhale the fresh air. To see the sun rise through the trees. You wouldn’t have to worry about the bustling sounds of the city but could instead take in the quiet.
Which was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing.
You smiled when you saw Kenna’s name pop up. She was one of your oldest friends. “Hey,” you answered, putting the phone on speaker so you could continue to type. “What’s up?”
“Hey, girl. Work sucked. I’m seriously considering getting a sugar daddy.” You scoffed. She would never. She hated relying on others. “How about you? How are the woods?”
“Gorgeous,” you smiled, stopping to look around. “Sorry work sucked.”
“It’s whatever. You actually get reception out there in the woods? Nice.”
“So far, so good,” you said. You expected it to be a bit spotty, but it was fine for now.
“And you're feeling okay?” she asked with a hint of concern. “That cabin was supposed to be for-”
“I’m fine. Really.” You didn't want her to worry about that. “But I may have done something kind of stupid.”
“God, you didn't call him, did you?”
“No! No way.” You blocked his number and all social media accounts. You wanted nothing to do with him.
“Then what did you do?” she asked curiously.
“Well, there’s this kind of grumpy, really hot lumberjack who lives near the cabin I’m staying in,” you said, looking around to make sure Bucky wasn’t nearby. It looked like you were all alone. “He wasn’t exactly nice to me when we met earlier today, and I may have snapped at him a little bit.”
“You snapped at a guy who was rude to you? That doesn't sound stupid. Sounds like he deserved it.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t the stupid part,” you said, taking a breath. “I may have told him that I am here all alone for the next couple of weeks,” you blurted out, leaving out that he knew you lived alone, too, and that the grump in question was Bucky Barnes.
Your face scrunched up when you waited for Kenna’s response. “Oh, sweetie…” There it was, the condescending tone complete with a “sweetie” on top. “Why would you tell him that?”
“I don't know!” you exclaimed, lowering your voice with a sigh, “Because I’m an idiot.”
“You're not an idiot.” There was a pause on the other end. “I mean, you did kind of shine a beacon over yourself that says ‘hey, take advantage of me!’ because your self preservation skills aren’t the sharpest, but I know that wasn't your intention.”
You made a face at the phone, your fingers taping the keys harder than you needed to. “Wow. So, I am an idiot and anything that happens to me is my fault?” you asked. You were being defensive when Kenna was only being honest, which you appreciated. But being in the woods, the only thing you should have to worry about was bears, not people with bad intentions.
“No! That’s not what I meant. You just see the world in a much brighter light than most of us do, you know? You feel like you can trust people to have your best interest at heart when you open up to them because you choose to see the good. But the reality is, the world isn't that bright, and most look out for themselves first.”
“Rose colored glasses, I know,” you said, softer this time.
“Listen, I shouldn't have said you put a beacon on yourself. People who do bad things are the ones at fault, not the people they take advantage of.” There was another pause. “Maybe you won’t have to worry about this guy but try to be careful.”
“I will,” you said. You had to look out for yourself.
“And before you say more, let me guess. You were nice to the grump after you snapped at him?”
“You know me too well,” you smiled sheepishly. “I fed him.”
“Oh, God, he tasted your cooking? Yeah, you’re in danger,” Kenna teased. She always praised your cooking skills. “He’ll probably be on the doorstep every day asking for a meal and you’ll give him one.”
You giggled. “Because I’m a pushover?”
“It’s because you’re a good person, so stop with the self-deprecating,” she said. First Bucky, now Kenna. “If I could just give you some of my pessimism and you give me some of your optimism, we’d be perfect.”
“The perfect blend,” you said, though you didn't think Kenna was that pessimistic. She was just realistic.
“Also in your defense, a hot grumpy lumberjack is like something out of a romance novel. I probably would've jumped his bones.”
“Trust me, you would,” you said. Bucky was drop-dead gorgeous, and he would probably have fun with Kenna. Why did that thought make you feel sick? “He has a cat. And he said I was beautiful,” you said, your heart skipping a beat from the memory.
“Oh, he did, did he? Okay, I know I just told you to be careful, but… maybe this guy can blow your back out.” You looked around again and debated taking her off speakerphone when you thought you heard a twig snap in the distance. “I mean, you deserve multiple orgasms after what he who shall not be named put you through.”
“Kenna…” you sighed, not in the mood to discuss your ex. She never liked him but tried to tolerate him for you while you dated. You were grateful she didn’t say “told you so” when you broke up. “I just met this guy.”
“And? People go to bars and leave with people all the time. And all I’m saying is that your ex is out of the picture, and you have some wounds exposed,” she said carefully, not wanting to upset you. “So let this guy lick them clean if he offers. Let him lick something. I mean, he’s a lumberjack. He’s probably pent up and a beast in bed.”
Heat spread between your thighs before you mentally dumped a bucket of cold water on yourself. No way did Bucky want you. “So, I’m no longer supposed to be careful. I’m supposed to let him, what, fuck me?” you asked.
“Be careful and let him fuck you. Establish boundaries but have fun over the next couple of weeks. Go see his cat and then show him yours.”
You burst out laughing and covered your mouth so the sound wouldn’t echo. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m also the best,” she stated. She really was. “And who knows? This could be the start of something new.”
“I don’t think…” You sat up when another twig snapped, this one closer. You couldn’t see anything when you did a quick scan from your seat. “Hey, what would you think about coming out here for a couple of days so I’m not alone the whole time?”
There was a beat of silence on the other end. She was probably looking at her calendar. “Hmm. I’ll try to swing it with work, but no promises. I’ll keep you posted,” she said.
“Yeah, just call or text me,” you said, shutting your laptop. If she couldn’t, maybe one of your other friends wouldn’t mind spending some time away from the city. “I gotta go.”
“Me, too. Take care. Carry pepper spray. Be safe,” she said, hanging up.
You slowly went to the edge of the porch and looked around the side of the cabin. There was a good chance the sounds came from an animal nearby, maybe a deer. You could blame the chill that ran through your body on the breeze. It was getting darker though and not being able to see much beyond the nearby trees didn’t soothe your sudden nerves.
With a shake of your head, you went back inside. No one was there. You were just being paranoid.
Locking the door like Bucky instructed, you breathed a bit easier and wondered what you’d cook for him tomorrow. Something not too heavy since it was for lunch, but tasty. It was nice to have someone to cook for since the plan was to cook for two for the next two weeks.
You also thought about what Kenna said. Would there be any harm if anything transpired between you and Bucky? It would be nice to have some fun, but that wasn’t really your style. You were always a relationship kind of person. And Bucky, well, you had no clue what he wanted.
“Forget it,” you muttered.
Curling up on the sofa, your heart ached as you stared between the board games on the shelf and the small fireplace. There really wasn’t much to do by your lonesome, but there was reading. Television. And you wouldn’t put stock in Bucky spending lots of time with you while you were there. He wasn’t responsible for you.
Sniffling, you curled into yourself more. The cabin was meant to be filled with laughter, sounds of pleasure, and more. Not silence. But you’d still have a nice time. You owed it to yourself. And if anything, maybe you’d end the trip with a new friend.
You were in much better spirits when you headed to Bucky’s cabin the next day. The spring in your step was partially thanks to the good night's sleep you had after reading. The bed was extra comfortable, and you woke up bright and refreshed. You could get used to that feeling.
The other spring in your step was, well, because you were having lunch with Bucky. You didn’t want to admit how long you took to pick out an outfit in between making lunch and baking cookies. It wasn’t like you were trying to get his attention or impress him, but you still wanted to look nice and presentable. And you wouldn't allow the thought of loneliness to dampen your mood.
“Wow,” you whispered when his cabin came into sight. It was larger than the one you were in, simplistic and beautiful in design, and had a wraparound porch. You wondered how often he sat on the porch swing and if he brought Alpine out with him.
Taking a breath as you walked up the stairs, you gently knocked on the door. You didn’t know why you were nervous. It was just lunch with Bucky. A handsome, brooding-
You didn’t realize that Bucky had opened the door until you blinked, his blue eyes locked with yours. How many people cowered under his stare? He took up almost the entire door frame and a tiny sound escaped your lips when you noticed he was shirtless. The man had no shirt on.
You bit your lip involuntarily, trying your damnedest not to leer. Were you supposed to look at his massive chest? The scars on his left shoulder? The metal arm? Or was your gaze supposed to dip down past his torso to his jeans and… No. No. You weren’t supposed to stare at all.
“Right on time.” His voice was gruff, holding a hand out to take your bag. “Did you have a good night?”
“Um, yeah. Did a bit of reading and went to bed early.” His fingers touched yours when you handed the bag over and you let it linger longer than you should’ve. It wasn't like there was any tension between you two, right? “You?”
“Yeah. Uneventful,” he said before he deadpanned, “You staring at me?”
Your mouth fell open as he raised an eyebrow. Saying yes would make you look like a creep and saying no might hurt his feelings. “Well, you’re shirtless,” you answered, making a point to look away when you gestured to him. You felt kind of bad looking, but it also felt wrong to not look. As if that was an excuse. “You’re not cold?”
“It’s warm in here and I run warm as it is.” He didn’t look at all embarrassed when you snuck another glance at him. “It’s also more comfortable with the arm sometimes to go shirtless,” he explained, giving you just enough room to squeeze past him. You couldn’t stop your body from pressing against his since he didn’t provide much room and you hoped he didn’t notice the hitch in your breath. “If it bothers you-”
“This is your home and I want you comfortable,” you said, putting some distance between you once he shut the door. If he wanted to go shirtless, you wouldn’t stop him. You could deal with him and his sexiness for a short time and get through a meal.
“I appreciate that,” he said, taking your coat and purse. “Make yourself at home.”
You lingered in the living room. Rustic with the exposed wood beams, but cozy and inviting with the plush sofa and chairs. The large stone fireplace drew your attention, along with the rug in front of it. The perfect place to sit and gaze into a fire on a cold night.
You moved close to the mantle to look at the three photos that rested there. One was of the sun shining on a large body of water with trees on each side. It looked warm and peaceful.
The second was Bucky with two other men, all three of them in leather jackets. You recognized them after taking a closer look: Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, heroes just like Bucky. While they looked relaxed and happy, Bucky wasn’t smiling at all.
Was that photo taken before or after the tough mission?
But the third photo wasn’t a photo at all. It was an empty picture frame. Where was the picture?
“Wakanda.”
You jumped and spun around, nearly bumping the mantle with Bucky so close. Your racing heart didn’t go back to normal immediately. How did he move around so quietly? “Wakanda?” you repeated.
He nodded to the first picture frame. “Where that photo was taken. It was right outside of my hut, sometime after I started healing. I didn’t have any nightmares that day.” His smile was soft as he reminisced. “It was a peaceful time.”
You smiled softly, too. He deserved peace. “It’s a beautiful view,” you said. The view he had there was beautiful and peaceful, too.
“I assume you know who Steve and Sam are?” You nodded in confirmation. “That was Sam’s birthday. He made us take a picture together and insisted on framing it.” He rolled his eyes, but there was affection there that he couldn’t hide. “I only have it up here because Steve said it would hurt his feelings if I threw it out.”
You looked at the photo again. Bucky’s hair wasn’t as long as it was now and his stance wasn’t as stiff, but the brooding expression was there. “I think that’s nice,” you smiled. It was good that he had friends. “And what about that frame?”
His jaw clenched, his fingers grazing the glass. “It’ll be a family photo,” he whispered longingly. “One day.”
Your heart broke for him and the urge to soothe him skyrocketed. Before you could stop yourself you put a hand on his arm. His muscles tensed under your touch and you pulled away, regretting your action immediately. “I’m sorry I touched you.” You felt terrible. You should’ve asked. “I’m sure it’ll be a beautiful photo. A beautiful family photo for your beautiful home,” you assured him as he let out a breath. He’d have that one day like he wanted.
He leaned in close, his lips close to skimming your ear. “Your touch doesn’t bother me,” he whispered like it was a secret between you before he pulled away. If he caught you quivering, he didn’t say so. “If you think this room is beautiful, wait ‘til you see the rest of the place,” he said, leading you away and not mentioning the family photo again.
You gasped when he brought you to the kitchen, your eyes bright as you took in the room. The rustic and cozy theme continued and you wondered if Bucky built the cabinets. You envied the open concept and counterspace and you wanted to weep over the large stove. The kitchen was the heart of a home and it was very much true for Bucky’s place.
“You like it?” he asked.
“Are you kidding? I love it,” you said, running a hand along one of the counters. You didn’t miss the way his chest puffed out with pride. “My kitchen is so small, but a space like this…”
He unpacked the bag of food you brought, giving you a sideways glance. “Maybe you can cook here,” he casually stated.
Your eyes lit up. “Really?” you smiled, nearly throwing yourself into his arms. You refrained. “I can cook here?”
“Yeah, really,” he said, tucking his hair back. Standing in front of the counter, shirtless, his hair down, he looked like a wet dream. “Like I said, I’m not as good of a cook as you. It’ll be nice to get some better use out of it.”
You clapped your hands giddily and he actually smiled a full blown smile. “Thank you, Bucky. Really,” you said. You’d make something extra special. “I hope you like the sliders. I made cookies, too.”
He turned to face you, his muscles rippling as he stepped a little closer. This man really didn’t understand personal space, did he? “How did you know I wanted dessert?” he asked, that husky tone back in his voice. Was he implying… No.
It was like Kenna was both the angel and devil on your shoulders, one telling you to flirt a little, and the other telling you to play it safe. “Just a guess,” you said lightly, going for something in the middle.
You didn't feel like you could breathe properly until he stepped back. “I almost forgot…” he trailed off, sauntering from the room.
You swallowed as you stayed rooted to the spot. What did he forget about? That he was still walking around without a shirt on?
Bucky came back with a beautiful cat in his arms, and you were close to swooning. It was quite the sight seeing a shirtless Bucky Barnes holding a cat, who looked at you with a curious stare. You didn't blame her for staring. You were a stranger in her home.
“Al, this is the woman I was telling you about,” he said, making your heart flutter when he said your name. He actually talked about you to her? It didn't mean anything special. He probably told her that a new visitor was stopping by. “Can you say hi?”
Alpine gently meowed, bringing a smile to your face. Bucky smiled, too. They made quite the pair.
“You can hold out your hand for her,” he said.
You did so gently, not wanting to startle her. “Hey, Alpine,” you smiled.
Her nose tickled your fingers before she nuzzled it, urging you to pet her. You did so, which earned you a purr in response. It was nice to get her seal of approval since Bucky said she was particular with people.
“Wanna hold her?” Bucky offered.
“If she’ll let me,” you said.
As soon as you held out your arms, Alpine crawled into them. Bucky looked pleased when she got comfortable and continued to purr. “She really likes you.”
“I like her, too,” you smiled down at the feline. She was a sweetheart.
“Perfect…”
You glanced up to find Bucky holding up his phone. “Sorry. Just thought it would be a nice photo,” he said, his expression not at all apologetic as he showed you the picture he took of you holding Alpine. “You don't mind, do you?”
“Oh, no. That’s fine,” you said. Maybe he didn't have pictures of others holding her.
He glanced at the photo again and nodded. “I might have to frame this one,” he said, tucking his phone away.
Your smile wavered as he grabbed a couple of plates. That wasn't weird, was it? No. It was just a guy wanting a sweet photo of his cat.
“Let’s eat,” he said, rubbing his chiseled stomach. “I’m starving.”
We deserve a shirtless Bucky, don't we? Is that photo going in that empty frame? What do we think will happen next? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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Hey, sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but I have ADHD and I’ve been following your comic for years and just now have started to write my own comic (partially because you really inspired me). But I’m really struggling with staying on the project even when it’s boring and getting myself to work on it in the first place. Do you have any tips on how to keep your brain invested or just to make yourself do the work at all?
I have excellent news, I literally just figured out something really important about this.
So when you're an ADHD kiddo or otherwise have difficulty staying on task in a structured environment where Task is the Priority, the main way people try to MAKE you stay on task is by removing your access to anything that is not The Task. No phone, no TV, no doodling, no going outside, etc. In practice, this just makes us miserable because it takes the boredom that's always simmering around a 2 or 3 and cranks it all the way up to 11. In the same way that you would have difficulty staying on task if you were in physical pain, this crushing existential monotony makes it very difficult to work. The work might get done simply because you have no other options, but it will not be done quickly or well, and it will take a while to recover from how much it hurt.
What I realized earlier this week is I caught myself doing this to myself. I had 42 pages of background colors to do, and I thought to myself "this sounds really tedious, but I suppose I have nothing better I can do." And I realized what I'd just thought, and got very alarmed.
Because back when I was an ADHD kiddo imprisoned by school scheduling and a million little factors that keep children immobile and restrained, I couldn't stop thinking about how big and exciting the world was, and how much I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I was feeling really crushed in I'd pick a random spot on the maps on my wall and just imagine being there instead of my bedroom. This was the impetus behind almost all of my creative energy. I've said it before - anything is a prison if you can't leave, and being in a prison makes it easy to imagine how amazing things could be outside of it. Aurora's initial worldbuilding was forged in the crucible of fifth grade misery. My enthusiasm for art and my creative drive are inextricable from my sense of wonder and yearning for excitement in the real world. Not escapism, but appreciation. Wonders unimaginable are out there, and I gain just as much joy seeking them out as I do conjuring them up in my head and sharing them with all of you.
So now that I'm a grown-up with actual freedom in every way I've been able to get, the idea that I was staying on task by making myself believe the world was small and not worth seeing was extremely alarming. It could keep me on task for an afternoon, but at the cost of slowly extinguishing the thing that made me want to make art in the first place - the hunger to experience and draw inspiration from all the myriad complexities in the world.
So what I've been doing is I've been purposefully and intentionally taking excursions whenever I catch myself thinking "I could take a break but it wouldn't be worth it, it's the same outdoors as always, I'll be uncomfy and unproductive and tired." Because that is never true. Every time I've put down the stylus and gone out, I've been renewed in one way or another, and when I come back to comfort fully recharged I get a lot of shit done. Because it is easier to work on anything if you remember why you wanted to make it in the first place, and it is self-defeating misery to just lock yourself in with it and tell yourself you're a bad person if you can't get it done.
I honestly don't know how widely applicable this is. I have worse wanderlust than anyone I know, so for me this has always been modeled as imprisonment vs freedom. I've also been extremely lucky to find myself in a profession that lets me set my own pace on literally everything I do. But I genuinely believe that when it comes to making art with ADHD, you need to give yourself freedom to move laterally, not just in the direction of obvious forward progress. We don't think linearly in any other part of our lives - art is no different.
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Something about virgin Choso fucks me up in the head oh my god.
He acts tough. Every time he’s around you, talking to Yuuji, his brothers, he puts on a show as though nothing in the world matters, he’s always calm, layed back. Talking to him, you always got so nervous when he stared you down every time without a care in the world it seems, to you it looked like talking to anyone for him was easy as a breeze of wind, you kind of wished you were like that, like Choso. That also was half of why you were attracted to the man. The other half, well, self explanatory: he was great with his brothers, he was attractive in his own damn way which made your knees weak every time you saw him.
You hadn’t expected him to be a virgin, and a whiney one at that. When you had walked past the bathroom to the kitchen, you heard him in
the bathroom, he was masturbating.. Were you eavesdropping? Yes, but you couldn’t hold yourself from listening in to his beautiful cries of pleasure, whimpering, pleading for some reason, those pretty moans and whines turned you on more than you imagined. Well, the worst part came when you had not realized he was done already, you only realized when he opened the door and stood there, shocked, embarrassement flood over you and you just ran back to the guest bedroom.
If it only wasn’t for you getting carried away, this wouldn’t be happening right now, you and Choso sitting on the sofa, akwardly waiting for Yuuji to come back from the kitchen so the atmosphere turns nice again. You can feel Choso sneaking glances at you, fidgeting with the black silver rings on his fingers. Not wanting to have this continue for any longer, you decided you’d speak up.
“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday, I just.. uh..”
You couldnt find a explanation for yourself.
“N-No, It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have.. Uhm, I shouldn’t have done it in the bathroom.”
“But I was eavesdropping on you, I need to apologize for that. I just couldn’t help but get carried away from… Shock!”
And as Choso was about to answer, Yuuji suddenly came into the room, having only heard muffles of your conversation.
“Yo, what’re you guys talking about?”
With a panic, you blurt whatever comes to mind.
“ Oh! I was just telling Choso that I’ll be helping him later.”
“Helping him with what?”
“Just washing the dishes, just to repay him for yesterday, I hit him after he scared me in the dark at night!
Yuuji seems content with that answer, and sits between you two. You couldn’t help but notice how Choso looked at you after you said you’ll help him later, eyes a little wide, a deep red spreading on his cheeks. He didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, well, you were just making an excuse, but still, a gesture like that would blow his mind completely.
After the movie marathon, you both HAD to go wash the dishes, to play some truth into your silly excuse you gave to Yuuji, it was akward, very akward washing dishes with him. But you got to see Choso, the real him, how he was all fidgety, getting clumsy and blushing as hard as a cherry.
“Was it true..? What you said earlier?”
“What are you talking about, Choso?”
“H-How you said you’d help me later..”
“I am helping you thoug- Oh, you mean that?”
You said as the realization hit you, he was hard, and it was all because of your choice of words.
“I-I’m sorry, I am just gonna go, real sorry for thi-“
“N-No, Choso! I- I can help you, if you want me to?”
The sigh Choso gave out was huge.
“Please…”
That was all you needed to hear, proceeding to drag him up to his room at the back of the hall, the location of his room, being secluded and far away from any other room made you so grateful.
You sat him on the edge of his bed, leaning down to massage his thighs.
“How do you want me to help you, Choso?”
Hearing his name come out of your pretty lips always made him want to hold back smashing his face into yours, but now, he was just confused, he didn’t know what would be the most ‘appropriate’ thing to ask. All he wanted now, was to ruin you, to make you his, kiss you, feel and touch you everywhere he had ever dreamed of.
“I.. I don’t know, just- just touch me, do whatever, please..”
When you heard that, you immediately knew that he was a virgin, to your shock infact. Not wanting to torture this poor man any longer, you stopped massaging his thighs for a moment and told him to slide his sweatpants down, all the while looking at the wet spot of precum left on them.
You looked at his length for a second, before actually bringing your hand up to it, to rub and feel it to all of its size, he was huge, possibly the biggest you’ve ever had in a partner. It blew your mind and you wondered how it would feel inside you, how it would fill all of your insides, but, right now it was all about Choso’s pleasure which needed to be fixed.
The pool of precum doubled in size as you continued rubbing it, deciding to finally free it from his boxers, Choso moaned when it sprang up and hit his stomach. That made you look up at him, needing to hear more of his sounds, he looked back at you with a pleading look on his face which just said “please, touch me already”
You grabbed his length with your hand and started stroking it, slowly at first, picking up speed with some time. The moans, whines and whimpers this man put out were sent straight to your core.
“Please, Please, please, go faster, please, I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please!”
That motivated you to pick up speed, also to tighten your grip on his length to up the pleasure for him. His moans were getting out of control until you looked up at him with a strict look, telling him to be quiet. With that sense of dominance, he came all over, all over your hand, his stomach and thighs. His chest heaving, some small moans still coming out as he came down from his high.
You brought your hand up to your mouth, licking your hand and tasting Him before you began to walk out of his room, off to finish yourself off.
“W-Wait, can’t I make you feel good now?”
“I did this as an apology, Choso. Some other time, maybe.”
And with a wink and a smirk to him, you walked off to your room with an almost unbarable heat between your legs, it also had to be fixed.
NOT PROOFREAD ITS FUCKING 5 AM I WANNA GO SLEEP, ILL DO IT SOME OTHER TIME
#smut#jujutsu kaisen#choso fanfic#choso fluff#choso smut#choso x f!reader#choso x fem!reader#choso x female reader#choso x reader#choso x you#chosoxreader#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso my beloved#choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso x y/n
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Necessary Revenge
Art Donaldson x reader
Warnings - 18+, smut, sub!art, dirty talk, handjob, overstimulation
Word count - 2111
a/n - yeah this is definitely on the list of the dirtiest things i've written. by popular request, here's part 2 to Cheer Up, but it can also be read by itself. Also tysm for all the love on Cheer Up. Sorry this took so long, and I hope you enjoy :)
You hated it when Art teased you, which is exactly why he does it. All you want is a loving boyfriend who listens to you and does what you say, is that too much to ask? Apparently so.
Obviously, the only reasonable solution is to seek revenge. Unfortunately for Art, after being denied an orgasm earlier after a rough day, that’s exactly what you plan to do. Well, maybe not unfortunate since this is most likely what he wants.
You were trying to study and watch playbacks of matches on your laptop to better your skills, but since you’re no longer in the mood, you decide you might as well close it.
After cleaning up your area, you head into the bedroom to see Art leaning against the headboard on his phone, his back propped by pillows. The television is on but on low volume, he always needed some type of background noise. Art glances up from his phone once he notices you walk in and can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. As soon as he looks back down, you shoot him a glare.
“Back for more?” Art asks.
Just you wait.
“Not exactly,” you tell him as you climb next to him on the bed, using the sweetest tone possible. You get yourself situated against the headboard with him, making sure you’re comfortable – you plan on being here a while. “What are you doing?”
“Just texting Patrick, he’s complaining about the match he just lost and how he needs to find a way to improve.”
“Well, he always was a sore loser,” you say. Art hums and nods in agreement as he continues to text his best friend. He doesn’t make a move to continue the conversation, so you decide to begin your revenge plan.
You turn your attention to the tv hanging on the wall as you place your hand on Art’s thigh. He must be too into his phone since he doesn’t notice, so you continue to raise your hand higher along the fabric of his sweatpants.
Art’s body tenses as he feels your hand move up his body, his fingers frozen above the keyboard on his phone. You notice the questioning glance he gives you from the corner of your eye, but you continue to play innocent as you keep your attention forward.
You wait for Art’s focus to go back to his phone before drifting your hand even higher and stopping right over his crotch. You don’t hide the smile that starts to grow on your face as you feel his cock slowly starting to harden over your touch. Art’s breathing begins to shallow out as he tries to maintain his focus and keep his mind straight. Well, that is until you give his crotch a firm squeeze causing him to let out a small moan and his eyes to flutter.
“What are you doing?” he asks you, his voice low.
“What do you mean? I just want to spend some time with you,” you answer in a casual tone, but Art can see right through your facade. He can feel his heartbeat getting faster. You finally turn your head towards him to notice his blue eyes not slightly widened as he stares back at you. You notice the way his chest slowly rises and falls in anticipation as his grip tightens around his phone. “Is something wrong?”
He gulps. “N-No, just a question.”
“I’m pretty sure Patrick is waiting for you to text him back,” you say, nodding towards his screen.
Art continues to stare for a few more seconds before nodding and looking back at his phone, but you don’t take your eyes off of him. You let your hand hover above him as you wait for him to send a few more messages out before beginning to palm him through his sweatpants.
Art bites his lip as he lets a whimper. His cock is at full attention now as your hand continues to move. The grip he has on his phone is faltering, his hands starting to tremble and his face completely flushed. When his hands fall into his lap along with his phone, you stop and raise your eyebrows.
“Pick it back up and continue texting him,” you command, your tone firm. His phone is vibrating non-stop from Patrick’s pettiness.
“Baby-.”
“I said continue,” you tell him.
A look of desperation flashes across his face before he lifts his phone back up and responds to the messages. Your hand starts back up again, and Art lets out a noise, sounding like he wants to start crying.
He’s falling apart with just a touch of your hand.
Art is starting to get annoyed at Patrick’s texts and wishes they would just stop so he could enjoy himself. He knows you’re not too pleased right now, but he doesn’t care. It just feels too good.
You lean your head into his neck for you to kiss just below his ear, his favorite spot and his weakness. “What’s wrong? You were so cocky earlier, where’s that same energy?”
A shiver runs through Art’s body at the feeling of your breath on his neck. He lets out another whine as he closes his eyes for a second before opening them back up. He’s looking at his phone, but given the fact that his head is starting to feel empty, he can’t really make out the words on the screen.
“You don’t have anything to say for yourself?” you taunt as you press down harder on Art’s crotch, causing him to buck up into your hand.
You pull away from his neck to get a good look at his face, which now has a distant look on it. His mouth is ajar as he looks back at you. You tilt your head, waiting for him to respond to you, but all he does is whimper and pant. He’s a complete mess.
You bring him into a kiss by grabbing the back of his neck, which he happily gives in to. The kiss is filled with nothing but need – more on his end than yours. Art drops his phone on the bed next to him so he can grab your waist, pulling you even closer to him. He whimpers into your mouth as you give his hair a quick put firm tug.
He plunges his tongue into your mouth, needing even more from you. You allow it for a moment before pulling back just a little to wrap your lips around his tongue. Art lets his eyes roll into his head at the feeling of you sucking his tongue. He feels his climax coming quickly from the combined pleasure, and you can tell by the fact of him squirming under your touch more and more.
“You’re not going to cum without my permission are you?” you ask after pulling away from his mouth.
Art feels his eyes become heavy as his forehead pressed against yours. “No.”
“Good boy,” you smile, and that brings Art even closer to the edge. He removes his hand from your waist to grab a hold of the cover beneath him.
“Can I cum?” he pleads as he throws his head back against the headboard, your hand still on the back of his neck.
“Not yet.”
“Baby please,”he pleads again, his breathing speeding up.
“No,” you tell him, wanting to torture him.
“Baby I can’t. I-I can’t,” he stutters, his eyes squeezed shut and his brows furrowed.
“That’s too bad,” you tell him. You feel his hips stutter under your touch making it known that he’s about to cum anyways. You already knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer.
Art lets out a cry as his orgasm floods through his body and shoots out of him. A wet patch begins to appear through his sweatpants as you keep on pressing against him. He continues to roll his hips into your hand as he rides his orgasm out, a string of gasps falling out of his mouth.
“Oh no,” you fake pout, “Looks like you didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry, I tried,” he pants as he opens, looking down at the stain on his pants before making eye contact with you. A look of embarrassment falls on his face.
He’s so cute.
You move your hand away from him. “What a shame,” you shake your head in fake disappointment. There’s a moment of silence before you say, “pull your pants down.”
“What?” Art asks, confused. He thought you were done, but he was so wrong.
“You heard me,” you say in a plain tone.
Art hesitates before shimmying his pants down his legs to his knees, along with his underwear. You look down to see a mess of his cum covering his shaft, and as you take a look at his underwear, you see some sticking to the fabric. His cock is red and starting to soften, but that’s going to change.
Art gives you a look of realization as he lifts his head from the headboard once it registers in his mind what you’re about to do. “Please don’t.”
You ignore his request as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He jumps at the feeling of your cold hand around him, still sensitive from his orgasm. You stare into his eyes as you begin moving your hand up and down. Art lets out a pathetic whine as his body jerks, trying to escape your touch, but it doesn’t work.
“You know, you’re just so easy,” you tease.
“Baby, please-,” Art cuts himself off with a whimper, his hips starting to writhe against the cover.
“Please what? You should be thankful that I’m doing this, unlike how you denied me my orgasm earlier,” you tell him. “I’m letting you cum as many times as you want.”
“Oh my god,” he says as he drops his head. His voice strangled as his second orgasm unexpectedly arrives. You watch as his cum lands on your hands and the bottom of his white shirt.
A sticky and wet sound echoes through the room as your hand speeds up around him. Art’s mouth falls open as his breathing picks up once again. He looks at you, silently begging, but you ignore him once again. You remove the hand from behind his neck and place it on one of his legs to help keep his body still.
“Say you’re sorry,” you tell him as you run your thumb over his tip a few times..
“I’m sorry,” he gasps, his grip on the cover tightening. He feels like his hands might be stuck in fists by the time this is over.
You pretend to think in your head before saying, “I don’t think you mean it.”
His voice is high and whiny as he throws his head back once again and says, “I am. I promise.”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” you shrug. “Make me believe it.”
Art begins to rethink his choices and starts to regret messing with you. “I’m so, so, so sorry, baby. I swear. It was wrong of me to do that to you.”
“Hmm.”
“Baby.”
You smirk at his desperation. “I forgive you.”
“Oh, no, I think I’m going to cum again,” he cries, his eyes rolling back once again as his body tenses.
“Go ahead,” you tell him.
Art’s third orgasm hits him harder than his previous two. He trembles as his back arches away from the headboard while watered down cum spurts out of him. Drool spills out the side of his mouth as you continue the motions of your hand.
He uses a hand and reaches down to pull yours away from his cock, but you slap it away. Art gasps as he continues to twitch in your hand, feeling like he can’t stop as cum flows out of him. You finally move your hand away, but his cock continues to spasm with your touch.
Wanting to torture him one last time, you lean down to wrap your mouth him, sucking and cleaning. Art’s body jerks as he curls forward and grabs your head. You laugh as you pull away.
You lean back against the headboard, pulling his head into the side of your neck to help him calm down. His breath tickles you as he tries to slow his heart down. You glance down at his spent cock with a smile as you gently rub his back.
After a long moment of silence, Art’s phone vibrates from its place on the bed beside him.
You shake your head as you ask, “Are you going to answer that?”
“Patrick can fucking wait,” he breathes out.
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