#and I’m trying to look at other payment plans

[isthisjackie]

I do not think I can be more stressed than I am rn

[kooyabooya]

SUITS, (STOCKINGS), & TIES

m reader x minju // 9k words

For the record, there aren’t any fingerprints seen underwater. Nothing to tie one to a crime. The trial itself is already a rapid current, pulling you and everyone around the bullpen into the endless sea of papers, payment record documents, video recording transcripts, then more fucking papers, and you absolutely hate it.

Files boxed in dating back to even before taking the damn job, the amount of trips to and from the copying machine, getting the materials right. Avoiding any fuck ups; that too, was always the end goal - staring at the blue folder sitting on your desk until–

Your fucking intercom’s ringing again. 

It’s always a trip, that’s how it usually flows around here: a turn to the left, round the front desk of the floor, hook right down the insanely long walkway, glass windows giving you this nice view of the city skyline. Pretty, at around one in the morning of another late night of work stacked upon your desk. 

Easy enough to also: take a moment to admire the view, since it’s the kind of view that you’d never get over no matter how many times you look at it. You sigh at the playback in your head, something that Chaeyeon talked to you about while hiding away from the pressures of work in her own office, bumping coffee mugs and wishing that the building had sliding windows to let the high breeze through. 

They would never allow that. You tell her, keeping the vibe lighthearted with a laugh. I mean seriously, even if we did, it’s all fun and games until someone in one of the conference rooms below us sees a body hurling down towards the ground at a hundred miles per hour. Chaeyeon complains that the air conditioning doesn’t even reach her office sometimes, and tells you that she’s jealous, wanting to switch places with you since the sun hits her back during the work hours. 

Sweeping past her office, since she’s gone for the day, the carpet gets pressed down by your loafers, tilting your head to see that the office at the very end of the walkway has the lights on, and you do notice the gap where the door should be; meaning that it’s open or someone stepped inside. 

This was the end point of this overbearing yet brief journey. The office that was considered to be base camp, the command center, the brains, one would say. One of the firm’s most well known figures with how she leans back into her chair with a leg across the other, showing that she means business, and knows how to look good while doing it. 

Prior, you loop around the pane entering the room- 

“You’re saying that I should sit back and do nothing?” Minju asks, finger tapping the peak of her nose, clearly pressed. 

“I’m not telling you to,” the woman standing across her with a left hand fastened to the hip with a lean to her right side, “We’re backed into a corner and all I’m saying is that we have to draw back and take this at a new angle.” 

“But you said that last time! And look where it’s got us.” Minju shoots back, both feet on the floor now, drawing herself closer to make a point. You’re trying to not make your presence known, seeing where this exchange is headed, fighting the urge to not butt in and make a fool of yourself. “Cutting a deal with the very same person that is trying to come back and rip everything from us was all part of your plan?” 

“Minju, I know you’re angry but–” 

Minju slaps her hand down on the desk, “We’ve got them right where we wanted, pulled all the stops, and now you want to just back off?” 

“I’m not backing off, I’ve managed to buy us more time.” the woman says, pressing on the rim of her glasses, sighing when Minju doesn’t even bother to look back at her in the eye, flipping through a packet with a pen in her hand to check and see if there was anything that was usable to help the situation. You’ve seen the packet on her desk earlier that way, ran that by Hyewon, her secretary, and now she’s finally looking at it. 

“Two days. That’s all I got until we fall back with the judge.” she says to Minju, “Unless you have something for me on my desk later today, I’m officially and unofficially grounding you.” 

“Dahyun-” 

“Zip it.” Dahyun says, mimicking a pulling motion with her right hand to her lip, “You’re already stretched thin as it is, this case is already taking a toll on all of us and this would be the last thing I need on my mind.” 

A tap to the glass on the entryway, “Is this a bad time?” 

The two women look at you in suspicion, both of them not even realizing that the door was open the entire time, listening to the conversation, “How long have you been standing there?” Dahyun asks, pointing at you while you’re leaned against the glass, foot pointed to the floor all relaxed and everything. 

“I’ve been here long enough, but a little over five minutes.” you answer, blue folder in hand. “Didn’t want to interrupt the usual bickering on a casual Thursday evening.” you also add, stepping inside Minju’s office where it opens up.  

The great Kim Minju, one of the firm’s best lawyers, and Dahyun’s right hand woman, one of the key people sitting at the high table; also your handler of these different cases and adventures that she usually sends you to do or help her with. Her office was classy, a row shelves off to the right side filled with an assortment of vinyls and picture frames of the people that she holds most dear to her heart. A record player was next to this trolley that had a kettle and a bowl of candies (though she doesn’t like to admit that she’s got a sweet tooth); there’s also her violet couch in velvet that you’ve also passed out on multiple times, drunk on the sweet scent that you still have to figure out which one she uses for that. 

“This is the last file for the case I managed to scrounge and put together.” you tell Minju, sliding it over across while her inky eyes dart at you, prompting a questioning eyebrow out of both of you while Dahyun’s gaze falls on top. “Everything in terms of deals within the last year from our target man should be all in there. Though, we had a minor hiccup earlier this week with–” 

“Don’t remind me,” Minju vexes, “That was my screwup with the family and now I’m paying for it.” 

“After I told you not to jump the gun.” Dahyun jumps in, hand on the corner of the granite. She sounds annoyed; after all, she was technically the ‘fall guy’ in all of this with her hiccup also in mishandling the exchanged information, not her fuck up though, since she was set up from the beginning after a hidden clause she signed a long time ago. She also swoops in to grab the file, opening it to skim through the papers, slightly nodding at what she could read for a few seconds. “Impressive,” Dahyun nods, “this is good leverage.” 

“Thank you,” you say, smirking while Dahyun hands you back the file for Minju to look at, pulling it out of your fingers to flip through. “Had some help from Hyewon, but didn’t want to take all of the credit.” 

“Well I appreciate you both.” Dahyun adds, “I had my doubts when I got the call to come back and see what all the fuss was about. Now, I can breathe a little more easily knowing that we have this in the bag, I hope.” 

“I’m still here, you know.” Minju huffs, rolling her eyes.

“Hush,” Dahyun scrunches funnily, taps your shoulder, causing you to shrug nonchalantly, “Thank you for hanging back to help me take care of this while I’ve been dealing with my moving situation. God, it's been a back breaker for me.” 

“How’d that go?” 

“We finally settled in, I had a small housewarming party about a few weeks ago or so, but I’ve been keeping in touch with–” 

“You said that your friend Sana was living in the area too, right? From college?” Minju suddenly asks, pen flat on the paper and fully invested in the life update. Dahyun nods to this while you’re pursing your lips at the news. You’re not one to lend an ear to these things, but you just can’t help yourself when they’re being talked about in the open. Talk about separating privacy and professionalism. 

“Yeah, it’s been good to see her, if it wasn’t for this fucking cas–” 

“Dahyun, it’s fine. We got it.” you tell her, slowly nodding to ease the stress, “You’re already doing so much by coming back from leave to deal this along with us. It shows that you do care about this firm and the reputation that it has.” 

“Look at you being a kiss ass.” Minju deadpans. You pay no attention to that. 

“And not taking this ordeal would've put the firm into crisis mode having the last thing I’d want to happen.” Dahyun scoffs, “Besides, the value is way more than that once all of this is over.” She starts to make her way out of Minju’s office, turning around to face both of you with eye contact, “I assume that you two will close up shop when you’re done?” 

“Don’t even need to remind us.” you tell her, Minju looks up with a soft smile across her face, lightly waving at Dahyun before she gives you two a quick goodbye, leaving shortly after. “She seemed a little more dismissive than usual, like she wanted to give us alone time don’t you think?” 

“I can’t stand her nosy ass sometimes, trying to veer the way how I want to do things.” 

“Ouch.” 

“I’m serious,” Minju shoots back, flipping through the packet, not giving an ounce of care through all of the blacked lines or different clauses in the suggested proposal that would settle this whole case. “I love Dahyun - I mean - she has the spare set of keys to my damn apartment since she moved away, that’s how much she means to me.” 

“Didn’t think you’d be sappy over your boss, especially after the shit show that we’d–” 

“One more word out of your smart mouth and I’ll stop looking through your documents to stall time.” 

“You already signed it, though.” you say, pouting with a frown, “Which also means that this should all officially end by tomorrow.” 

Minju sweeps through the row of open and unopened files spread across her desk, eyes canvassing between the texts and dried ink of signatures, vying for some sort of leverage that would go against Dahyun’s wishes. It’s natural for her to be extremely nitpicky - highlighted with a small curtain of hair falling in front of her forehead, pulling the side of her index finger back while her pretty eyelashes flutter about. She’s refined and very sophisticated, the kind that makes you stop in your tracks one day when she waltzes in the office on her own time, and not that she’s thirty minutes late in the morning. 

Throw the law degree away bucko, maybe that avenue of studying art and architecture would’ve been the better option considering how much you’ve been staring for the past five minutes. 

To fill in, here’s the brief rundown of the position. 

A lot of people would’ve killed to be Minju’s associate. I mean, the woman seeps in ‘getting what she wants’. You could consider yourself lucky, but Minju already had eyes on you from the first second you stepped into her office for the interview. The interview itself wasn’t all that glamorous: renting one of your best friend’s designer suits that would’ve been more usable for a fucking award show spritzed with a cologne that was way out of your league in terms of scent let alone price, a typo on the fucking resume that she looks with an eyebrow for an explanation, and a lasting impression that whatever happens would deem only to be the best going forward. 

Minju wanted someone who excelled both in book and street smarts, be able to get a grasp on the situation faster within the first few seconds of receiving the case or news, and most importantly, to steer Minju’s level of thinking where even the most irrational decisions would be reasonable. 

You hit all the marks, and qualified to be associate. End of story. 

“Everything that we all have here is solid substantial evidence,” Minju cuts in with a paper flipped back to the top of the page, pen flat on her fingers as if she’s fed up with playing reviewing proctor, “Nothing would change with what we already have on the case.” 

“But the conclusion would be different,” you reply, sitting opposite to her, respectfully doing nothing but twiddling a pen between your fingers, considering that you were pretty much done with your bout in the file room earlier today, finding the last bits of documents from the archives that would help into comprising the settlement. “After all, it’ll be you and Dahyun in that conference room tomorrow closing the deal. I’m just passing papers.” 

“I suppose that you’re afraid of taking credit where it counts. Because why put in much effort for this case especially when someone else could’ve handled it when I asked?” 

“Dahyun insisted on coming back to oversee this. Had it been anyone else, the firm would’ve been up in flames if it wasn’t for her quick thinking pulling up the memos and signing payments from all those years ago.” 

Minju closes your blue folder, sliding it off to the side, flipping open her laptop without a flinch before typing away. “You know,” she starts, giving you this quick gaze that has you nicking your head a few millimeters, catching the pen in between your fingers to highlight that she has your attention, “I could’ve done this myself with Hyewon’s help, give you at least some days off after working you down the bone.”

“Now why would you do that?” you ask, four fingertips on the back of Minju’s laptop, closing it slowly while you’re rounding the fine corner of her obsidian desk, thumb wrapping underneath when her chair meets square with your hips. “That’s not very work-efficient for you to do that to me now, is it?” 

“You want to lecture me on how I should make you operate?” 

“She knows about us…by the way.” you tell Minju straightforward, smirking when you see that high arch of her brow, grimacing at the faulty accusation that she already knows by way of presentation. Doesn’t take long also for the different neurons firing in her brain that’s filled to the brim by the way of the law - only for that to be completely flattened out in one of those lobes replaced with various details of what you’re talking about.

“What are you talking about?” Minju asks, tilting her head upward that makes the sight of the high ground utterly so familiar. 

“Dahyun can easily tell that we have something going on,” you remind her, “She can easily read the both of us like a children’s book and–” 

“Bullshit,” her face crinkling with a tone more deaf the the simple drone of a dead phone line, “You know damn well that there’s nothing happening between us, so stop with the conviction.”  

“I’m not saying that you’re being convicted of my point,” you start, pushing her chair away to leave you space when you’re leaning over, seeing her back hit the cushion of the chair where she wiggles more comfortably with both hands on the armrests, “if anything, you’re just simply denying that there was ever really a thing between you and I.” 

“And that should be the end of that, no?” Minju coos, tipping her head a little bit higher, “Can you concur that there is nothing happening between us, especially in the workplace?” 

Minju is a professional, on par with the same archetypes like Dahyun. She’s witty, calculated, knows a lot more things from her experience compared to you, and blowhards herself way too much for anyone’s own liking. Every argument with her always starts with her leading the charge, to make you feel smaller right off the bat so that you’d have no way to counter unless your point seems fit to her points of focus. 

Okay, it may not be every verbal exchange with her on a day to day basis, considering that it’s also filled with witty banter and small inside jokes that could totally fall within the implications of the term ‘flirting’, but nothing ever really escalated from that. 

You also stuck your ears in between conversations during various corporate events and coworker mixers. Hell, even the pool of associates away from the main quarters of partners and senior partners all gave you the necessary praise for the chemistry that you’ve developed with Minju. Some days she wants to have your head on a platter, other days the talks were good, and you two managed to get things done around the office. 

Except for one day, and the details are still a bit murky for you to put up in recording: another workday in the office, maybe a little slow for Wednesday transition from morning to an afternoon -  but a free flowing circulation of phone calls, fax reports, conference appointments with clients, and a running order of Hyewon’s go-to latte from the coffee shop on the first floor. 

Bouncing back and forth between Dahyun’s office and Yuri’s, you make a quick detour towards Minju’s office who happened to slot herself on the left side of you while matching your walking pace. Expecting a quick quip from her like any other morning, you were waiting for it, but she hits you with the ‘file room, now.’ order that has you in-tow right behind her on the way there. 

Though your mind was already in overtime mode with the workload that was dropped to your desk roughly about two hours since arriving, it had already been nonstop and maybe Minju’s time could be quick if it was related to saving the firm from being purged by pulling some old papers in the filing room. Somewhere along those lines, your mind gets blanked out from the cramped space of the metal shelves, those dusty boxes, compounded by dim lighting in the room already. 

What you do remember: 

The small little gasps and hums when you’re sucking along the line of Minju’s neck, gripping the fistfuls of her dress and sliding your hand along her thighs. 

(So much for keeping it professional with the woman who’s also technically your primary boss.)

“How do you want to go about this?” you ask, “Do you want me to persuade you into telling Dahyun that we need a little more time?” 

Minju hums, pensively, as the question itself is rather a tempting decision that’s also actionable at best. You could see the small lump from the inside of her cheek before she shifts it across her upper lip to the other side, twisting her chair forward to place both elbows on the desk with fingers intertwined like she’s praying for the Lord’s insight from above. “We’ve been on the nose with this thing for too long now, I think it’s about time to cut our losses before things get ugly.” 

You don’t say anything, leaning yourself onto the obsidian while your arms bridge themselves together, flexing the wool in the threads when she makes eye contact with you, flicking her eyes back onto the paper where there’s a few blank lines that still need to be written in ink. 

With a simple lift of her signature ballpoint pen by you, she takes it, twirling it around like you were doing a few minutes ago to imply that your point finally got through to her, fingers grazing along the fine paper to fill in the gaps. 

But the vantage point where your ass is pressed against the edge is proving to be some sense of uncomfortability, so you change course, from left to right, vacant chair adjacent to the desk in your hands in a fraction of a second, scooching closely while Minju scoffs at the prying during the task, “Didn’t think it’d be that easy for you to be cooperative with the demands.” 

“Stop,” and Minju sings this with the better facade of her naivete, “Unlike you, I’m willing to actually listen to what's being asked from the first try, and not have it repeated to me through different remarks.”  

You get too close, too soon, when the ends of her hair brushes against the front corner of your lips and cheek, she could hear the air close at the bottom of your throat when the tip of your nose barely grazes her cheekbone. A moment like this occurred before, you could say it’s in the sense of deja vu: Minju invites you out for some quality time between partner and associate, a few drinks were on the table, and Minju challenges you to a simple game of pool. 

Sounds pretty mangable and straightforward, right? 

Wrong. 

You get shafted by Minju the first game, pull yourself back the next round. There’s this back and forth like usual banter between colleagues, dishing out trash talk for some good ol’ competition. The count of drinks gets lost along with the perception of time, and this happens on impulse when you’re backed into a corner with the eight ball being the last one for Minju while you’re behind on three solids. She rambled about you being always two steps behind and you can’t blame or deny the fact that she’s also way out of your league, so what do you do? Take the pleasantries of hums to your advantage, molding your hips along with hers, calloused hands lightly clinging onto the denim while your chin nestles into her collarbone, saying carelessly with intent of taunting, don’t you think you should call the last shot if you do make it? 

Minju nips her lip triumphantly, turning her head, catching on with what you’re incessantly doing, whispering her call: left corner pocket. The attention to the black ball slips out of your mind when she presses your lips onto your cheek, a fatal blow while the space opens up between you again, tipping her head back also lets you know that you lost the best of three series, which also meant that the loser has to pay the bill. 

(You pay your dues, but also add the pay up by making your own call: pocketing yourself into Minju’s cunt on her bed later that would only serve all the wiser.) 

A flashback in your mind that took minutes, only to be reeled into the real world by merely seconds, “You missed one more claus–” 

That gap could be filled after, because this deal on the agenda was more important to deal with. 

Minju grabs you by the tie, leveling your head with hers. Your hands are quick to smooth out her skirt from behind, letting the various files and dossiers rest across the desk or on the floor, depending where her hands land for a proper hold. Some lights stay on long after hours, to serve as a subtle ambience that no matter what time it may be, someone’s still hard at work on a case, or waiting for their personal driver on the ground floor. Though, some other cases include a well-spoken conversation, or even just chatting between colleagues - this chat about work with Minju however, was anything but that. 

Right off the bat, you’re reminded of how Minju is so easy to break down, despite her having a front that has every possible contingency of shutting herself away from others because she’s not that kind of character to be soft and open, until where your fingers are dancing alongside the slope of her bottoms at the hips, thumb rounding the hard end with a slow pull of her chair to reel closer until you’re at the edge of your seat. 

The move itself is so subtle, setting her on the desk in a similar position that you were in while she was signing through the documents with her ass pressed against the desk, scooching back while dancing with her tongue, lips parted with her head tilted. You’ve also managed to get your hands underneath Minju’s perfect thighs, lifting her up to the tabletop, spreading her long limbs much like to that excerpt of Moses parting the Red Sea, dipping your hand underneath to get a feel of her lace. 

Minju’s breaths become slightly erratic, nearly short-circuiting the more your fingertips dance along the line of her skirt; inner thighs pressing along the side of your hips while you cater your mouth and fingers in her hair, her neck, the growing heat rising in the skin when she whimpers through your teeth given how cold it was in the room. How your fingertips graze along the slightly damp fabric with one- maybe two tips, you chuckle softly at how she’s very responsive to the touch, the small clutch around your neck and back from her arms to serve as a safeguard. 

This is something that you’ll probably take to the District Attorney, let alone have Dahyun in the loop, in the specific case where you find yourself with no other option, a last resort to drown her into the ground: 

“Let me ask you this again,” you prompt with another received kiss to the growing swell of your bottom lip, “Are you sure that there’s nothing happening between us? Especially in the workplace?” 

Minju gasps out before you shut her up with your lips, channeling the moan when you increase the intensity of swirling around her clit, putting her hips out forward to sate that ache for at least something, anything. 

“You’re certain that you can say with full confidence that you have no kind of interest in me, whatsoever, admit to me right now that I’m correct.” 

You could tell from the look on her face and the moan she lets out, vocal cords open and freely flowing with the heavy tone while crumbling at the touch, all hot and wet and losing most of the plot at this point before even getting to the real business. It’s really wicked, how this woman as your boss flaunts around the floor, knowing that she won’t let anything get in her way for getting the case done, doing whatever it takes to see it through to the end and even if the methods aren’t within the boundaries. 

Like you could handle the boundaries yourself, playing nice isn’t always the way to go. 

While your hand hikes up the smooth skin of her thigh, feeling an unfamiliar ridge, a weave, something that hugs her leg that probably deserves to be there, to help with the appearance and everything- maybe not or maybe so, you’ll assess when the moment gets there. She grips around what she could touch in terms of your blazer, hips pushing forward at the flex of muscle when you’re scratching the surface of her clothed cunt, the ripple effect shown in her body as she arches first, then sighs into your collarbone the next. 

“Mmn, pretty–” Minju groans out, letting a small hiss through the porcelain cracks of her teeth, “so well, so, so amazing.” 

You’ll seek out the wants, the needs, the odds to break even, testing out the very little restraints in patience left while this cold-hearted woman is melting into your touch, giving you the benefit of having free reign over her body, when she’s murmuring these little hums and broken phrases that switches back to yours with more perversion. 

“I need an answer from you.” Playing prosecutor against the defense wasn’t always ideal unless it’s a mock trial, but you’re always one to challenge Minju, getting her to see your points on a day to day basis, proving her wrong when you know it’s impossible to. She can see right through you, always letting you take the loss, never accepting a victory that you rightfully deserved. You’ll be good, go to her when you’re in a rut, she expects it to happen, that’s how loyalty works. Though, there’s nothing wrong with being defiant. “Don’t make me ask again.” 

It’s all a tease, the way you let the lace dip underneath the slit with the extra press of fingers, toying with the soaking walls and fighting the urge to tug the strings the more you repeat the same fucking routine–

“Baby,” she croons, it’s pathetic. You’re about to get worked up too if you play the waiting game, dragging your thumb across her clit so delicately that she’s quivering, squirming, feeling the tense in her shoulders through the button up, hanging onto your forearm when the hold gets a little too tight. Those breathy gasps get your mind ahead to what’s coming, the natural instinct of what you’ll do to her in her office, on top of her desk, and maybe even on that stupid velvet couch if need be. 

You can hear the huffs more clearly down your ear, the rise and fall of her upper body when you coax her for a few seconds; she’s spiraling out of control, a whine gets suppressed with a press of lips to her throat, and she stumbles back on her arm, spreading wider in mirth. 

She’s shaking her head, eyes screwed shut, like wincing, the whine too - holy hell - it’s reminding you after that night at the bar with her, a moment coming full circle. 

A hand sweeps through her hair, fingers carding, you kiss that sweet spot just underneath her earlobe, a lick from the tip of your tongue to get her more fitful, bring the desperation and sluttiness out of her lips. 

“Do you have- “ she’s sputtering out the letters and consonants, intertwined with hitches and moans, “any idea of what you do?” Minju can’t stay composed while the nips at her jaw and neck close the distance between her mouth–

“Haven’t had the slightest.” you whisper, hiking up the last bit of her skirt to see the new piece to untangle, “God, Minju- lacy stockings? Really?” 

The laugh she lets out should set you off in annoyance, almost like a border that’s meant to be there and never to be touched - let alone cross, fingers clasped around the nape of your neck to keep you trapped while she smiles to the small victory, “You sound surprised. I always come to work with these pairs from time to time, but you don’t leer when I want you to.” 

Her eyes flutter shut once again when you tend to her pulse point, mouth gaping open when you’re doing two things at once: soothing the warmth on her neck while your fingers work teasing her clit and walls, a punishment of sorts when she’s reeling back onto the desk with a slipping hand, her other limp gripping your forearm to not stop - but keep going. 

“How long–” Minju asks while she’s practically sliding off of the polished bark, “have you waited to do this…to me?” Strands of hair falling forward ever-so slightly in front of her forehead, hand tangled to the back of your head while your ear is pressing against the hard line of her collarbone. You don’t pay any attention to her subjective inquiry, replacing it with another strand of moans leaving her lips when you skate her ass across the table again, the bottoms of her thighs meeting yours, melting a bit more when her core rubs against the emerging bulge from between your legs. 

She knows what she’s doing, it’s a trade off of pushing buttons. Trying to get you to lose all the sensible urges just to give her what she exactly wants. 

You let your hands map out the case: her hips, the flat plane of her waist, where the peak of her hips meet at the hint of her obliques, only for your digits to spread out behind on the curve of her ass, feeling the lacy panties that might go against dress code policy because of how too fucking thin they were. Minju grins against your mouth, the exchange of hot air serving to be this addicting oxygen that you can’t get enough of. “Who knows how long I’ve wanted to have a crack at you. I just put myself off to the side because I knew that I’d never stand a chance.” 

She laughs, and you hate to admit how much you like it. The image of her being disheveled in front of you, just inches away from the fingertips; legs spread out wide on her own desk, waiting to be ruined. 

“What’s going through your head right now?” Minju asks, tossing her arm on the lower section of your waist, seizing you while failing to meet her glazed eyes. “Have you…fantasized about me? Tell me all about it. I’m intrigued. Want to know what gets you off after work.” 

And there it goes again: the banter. She’s always quick for a couple liners, sayings and slang that you’ve shared with her day in day out. Minju isn’t the kind of person to greet you with a ‘good morning’ or ‘want to get a quick drink or bite from the cafe downstairs?’ - but rather: right down to the dirty business of what she needs you to do in the long, extensive hours of the workday, dealing with clients, putting up with her and Hyewon’s bullshit, getting the necessary paperworks, and having some random beef with Yena in the break room. Minju is always quick to give you insight on what needs to happen, you also supply your own opinions and takes where Minju does accept some of them (most of the time). 

Except for this, when her cropped blazer is barely hanging off the shoulders, skirt hiked up past the peak of her thighs, displaying that wet spot in between her unbelievable legs, pulling you by the tie because she doesn’t have time for you to fucking daydream saying: “C’mon, pretty boy. You’re basically drooling in front of me and we haven’t even got to the fun parts yet–” 

She stops short when you lay the rough palm of your hand against her pussy, hushing through the cuff of her ear, grip tightening and muscles tensing in her body as if something snapped within you - which it did for a slight second - before you draw yourself back, finally looking her in the brown ambers of her eyes. 

“I had a dream once,” you finally built up the courage to start, “about being here, in your office.” landing a kiss to the corner of her lip to keep yourself focused. On a night just like this, where you’re sitting nicely on top of your desk. Your legs were spread apart like so. Minju coos when she sees you lightly licking your lips. It would’ve been better if you were already out of your clothes, naked for me. Her head dips forward when she feels the languid circles rubbed across her clit, I fucked you right here, on this desk. And then, I ruined that pretty little couch that you love so much apparently. 

“God, you’re insane.” She’s acting innocently like she too hasn’t been teasing you out and around the workplace before this. 

Insane? It becomes a little bit more deranged where Minju’s jaw drops to the floor when she hears the sinful sound of her lacy panties being ripped away from her hips. 

“Oh, I could do a lot more for you right now, and believe me, I will.” You assess the drainage when your finger plunges into her cunt; the sharp inhale she takes in while saying ‘shit’ is only brief when you’re thrown off by her walls tightening around you, her hands working the buckle of your belt and slithering past the pants. 

“And how do you suppose you’ll keep your word?” she asks, fingers coiling your cock, the reaction easily readable judging from the loss of breath through your windpipe.

“Consider this as wet work.” 

“Wet work?” 

This attractive woman who’s posture could rival classy models, with those perfect lips in both sets, the image now being unraveled like an item being auctioned off to the highest bidder: how her legs open enough for you to fill the space, the way her bra sits across her chest once the blazer is finally discarded onto the floor. (She’s pretty now, she’ll be even prettier when you have your way over her, helplessly letting these soft sounds out, coming undone over or underneath, it won’t matter either way, because that’s always the endgame.) 

“You’ve got your skirt on still,” you observe, pulling her closer to the edge of the slab, “I don’t know if-” 

“Ignoring the double entendre you made?” she gasps, struggling to keep composure when the ends of your fingers, tightening her grip around your cock while the other arm is thrown around your shoulder, “just-please-like that-fuck-oh fuck-” 

Minju sort of hides away from the immense pressure in her cunt and her clit, seeing the usual features on her face show a little more crease to them, slacking with her words, lost, feeling every bit of you, huffs of poor syllables and consonants, octaves going up in keys. You’re loving how needy she’s getting. 

What’s the matter? You whisper against her chin. You don’t seem too well. Body burning up? Too hot for you to handle? She’s gone too far off to answer, only by huffs and light nods of her head, the flex in her knees, hands across your broad back, working herself around your fingers, groaning when it gets all too much. 

The idea of staying at the firm for the night doesn’t seem that bad of an idea to do. 

“Fingers, babe,” she whines, rasping in moans at the ends of them, “fingers are too fucking good, want it- so bad-give me a–fuck-” 

Her eyes are screwed shut, clinging onto your body desperately while she starts to work the buttons off your shirt; starting in the middle rather than the top or bottom because she can’t think straight. But she diverts her hands instead to the loops on your sides, wiggling you out of your pants more - keeping herself moving while trying to ignore the throbbing that’s happening between her legs. 

“Tell me what you need, boss,” you say, a little tinge of sincerity behind the professional title. “Maybe put some solidity to this little affair?” 

Minju gives you this glare, scattered ends of her hair covering the little blush that’s all too apparent across her cheeks, failing fantastically the way she lets out this wail when your two fingers fill up her cunt completely, pulling her over the edge of the desk one last time as you mesh your hips right in the underside of her thighs, body leaning back with the arch bending a whole lot deeper, head back while you lean yourself forward that tips over a few trinkets across the desk; some picture frames fall face flat, that one pendulum set you’d always mess around with in the morning briefings nicks around in disarray, and her nameplate kinda just gets hit in the crossfire by Minju’s stray hand and onto the floor. 

“Call this,” she sputters, gasping, heaving most likely, “a hot and steamy affair.” 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” you retort, “don’t get smart with me now.” 

She just looks at you with that same sly smirk she’s been wearing whenever she teases you about anything. You find it annoying at times because of how effortless she does it, this time her breaking smile doesn’t match up with her eyes and how they are dead, sincere with a desire waiting to be fulfilled, a craving that’s been long overdue simply because you know that Minju is not an easy person to break down, though that’s been proven to be the complete opposite now. 

There’s this priming for a second, your own hand wrapped around your cock, getting close, until you nudge yourself from the first few inches inside her cunt, feeling the small press to push more, replaced with the easy glide inside the compact, yet addicting heat. It’s also kinda cute how you and Minju share this quick inhale - a hiss would be better to describe it - then you see her blown out irises, that sly smile getting more lazier, lost completely when you drag the half of your length out, slowly, steadily. 

“Wait, fuck-” she mumbles out, laying flat across the top. Her chest rises and falls a little more erratically, eyelids fluttering shut when you sink back right in, deeper this time, delicately, a little tease with the pullout before feeling her out completely. You learn for the first time ever since stepping inside that one room that day for the interview: that small thought of how it would be so easy to slot yourself right into Minju would be nothing but a pipe dream, becomes too real to relish in the feeling now. 

Then she mumbles again: “holy fucking shit.” 

You give one good snap of the hips for good measure, and the ripple effect of Minju’s body sliding across the desk, the wiggle in her perfect tits, her hands hold fast to yours around her thighs as if she’ll do the fucking all by herself while you just stand there in awe. 

But you’re good as fucked if you weren’t already, so you snap your hips back into her again, harder. Then again, filling up her perfect cunt each and every time you bottom out. You’ll take this image to your grave, let this be the last piece of evidence submitted to the judge who’ll sentence you do a much safer place in hell: MInju’s pretty body, with stockings around her perfect legs, tits sliding across her chest in every stroke, cock disappearing inside her cunt as her pretty lips fit around them with ease. 

“Minju, I - God,”, you try to tell her, the promise buried in your throat, buried underneath the air that flows right above the words, as your hips meet hers, the audible smack of her thighs filling up the office, how amazing she’s massaging your length well deep inside her, all slicked up and smooth for you to keep going. “I’ve been waiting for this- dreaming how to get you all stretched with this tight pussy. Your cunt, baby. Minju–” 

“You’ve shown me why - why I chose you, out of everyone else - show me again how good you can-” she breathes. When her mouth trails off again, because of the strokes, the clench in her pussy, hands clinging onto your wrists as you cast your own hands onto her waist. 

Eventually, nothing sounds better than the noises she makes against your collarbone, angling deeper where - you find out on the fly, and maybe something to keep in mind for later. It’s all coaxed out when you’re working her to the wall, holding her carefully while she can just keep herself stretched out, working all of the bundle of nerves across the spots inside her cunt. 

“More, honey,” and the pet names just seem to escalate as they come, do they? She sets herself up on a wobbly elbow, seeing the flex of muscle across your arms and stomach each time you rip into her, fucking her with a steady pace, but teetering on the subtle rawness, that hidden potential that sets yourself apart from the other talents you have working as one of the top employees. “Love it when you- fuck me to pieces.” 

"Anything else you want to say to me?"

“What’s also nice is that,” she continues to ramble (another thing that you’ve heard make rounds through the wings), dizziness shown in her eyes, the continuous clapping of her pulsing cunt, tightening around you, molding her into the perfect shape of - “how you continue to surprise everyone here, including me-” 

A string of curses spill out your mouth, Minju can’t help with the mix of laughs and moans at how good you feel inside her, the sight of your cock vanishing between her legs, putting one past the degree where her knee nearly touches her clothed tit, and that gets her wincing for a quick second. You’ll probably put this in a mental file, how you’ll get her to molten cunt more creaming until she cums, cums, cums and cums-

“-you’re like me, but only as a handsome guy who continues to impress-” 

Anything else that comes out of her mouth in lieu of praise will only feed that ego in your mind to get one over her, to say that you’ll always be two steps behind her while she’s five ahead. She doesn’t let you off easily, so why would you do the opposite for her? Rocking your hips towards hers makes the legs of the desk mirror the motion of your tempo, thumbs pressed up against the mold of her ribs just underneath her breasts, deep into the skin where you could also bend the bones beneath them while they rebound off of the smacks. 

You’ve got your hand over her mouth, to shut her up, eyes squinted tight to where her brows could meet in the middle, grasping onto your wrist while the muffles of your name reach higher in octaves, sobbing in her moans while she’s suffocating against the roughness of your palm.

She can’t keep focus for any moment longer, eliciting shorter gasps when you tease by slapping your cock head on the nub of her clit, gritting her teeth at the shameless tease you’re giving. 

“Can-” it’s a little sweltering to notice that she’s reduced to helpless one word blurbs, slipping inside of her once again to make her chest freeze off of the flares in her waist. “harder- i need you to-” 

The shiver that erupts through your fibers sends you in limbo, feeling Minju’s ankle anchor behind your back, serving as the reins when you stutter in pace, ass hanging off of the desk to completely bottom her out, and your cock is constantly getting soaked with a new layer of her slick each time you pull back. 

That low groan she lets out meshed with the word ‘fuck’ undermines her whole persona. Once known for being straightforward with her words, now lurching you in to keep pounding into her, slaps bouncing off the windows when she tries to perch her head upwards to see the damage, but slowly losing tension in her neck, deprived of focus when she lolls her head back to the original spot, sucking in air, sobbing even more loudly. 

“Please, like that, keep doing that, I’ll let you anything to me, just–” You could see her lip wobble a bit slightly, cunt shaped to every minute detail of your cock, “i’m so- so fucking close, you fuck me so good- so well–” 

“So tight,” you say, deep of that desired well. Minju is past the point of where the obscene words and demands can’t even be verbally said anymore. She’s whimpering, lazy wrist over her mouth again, the little strands in her hair bouncing along as one of the ripple effects caused by your length. “Gonna have you aching for me long after-” 

It’s all royally fucked. 

The way that she, oh- 

How she clamps well around you, the new coat of her arousal soaking your crotch. When you’ve edged her out past the bar and how her whole body spasms in strain and ease, she’s clutching for something within arms reach - your hands and fingers, or anything that she can grasp - while these sinful sounds unravel her from her vocal cords. Her eyes look like they can’t open at all; with the small stream of stray tears falling from her cheek. You’re also crinkling your own features, jaw hung low with the bellowing moan leaving your mouth along with hers. 

You could easily get lost in the reveling of Minju cumming over your cock, but you’re not seeing this through to the end not just yet. 

In one swift motion, you flip her over, hook her waist, pull this one party trick of stripping her bra away from her chest, pushing her back down to which she giggles slightly. “Here.” you tell her, mouth well above the lobe of her ear, hanging her ass off the desk again. “I’m just getting started.” 

Minju puts this lazy smile on her face, eyelids still closed, using whatever energy left that you haven’t dicked out of her to catch her breath, sliding her palms across the desk downwards to set herself in place. “God,” she says this as a revelation, “you are so fucking good.” 

A low chuckle is all she hears while you pull her back up against your stomach, twisting her head up to your lips, pressing them to her cheek, while she traps her bottom lip between her teeth. 

You say this as a serving rebuttal: “I’m better than good.” 

Minju can be selfish at times, always willing to put her own personal interests over yours or anyone else’s (most of the time). But when you’ve broken her down to this: knees apart, your back flush with hers on her favorite couch, pushing well past the limit, driving your cockhead down the deepest depth to where you could get it, cupping the crease where her leg and hip meet, clasping with the pads of your fingers, dragging and impaling her what could be a punishment for her - or a reward to the limitless amounts of things that she wants and receives on almost every occasion. She’s the kind of woman to play the long game, hard to get, make someone like you grind your way in order to rail her in the most intense-rough fuck that she loves (but won’t admit), or the excruciating delay of feeling every nerve binded inside her walls, where the veins of your length just graze slightly enough to feel the tense in her muscles, her hands; going limp while lazily whining at the slide of your dick inside her cunt, playing with her while she’s whimpering at you to finish the job. 

“God fucking dammit,” she manages, laying herself flat while you’re hovering right on top of her, taking your cock while she can only grip the seat covers. It’s all there, bare back and ass, the set of stockings still on her majestic thighs. You’re hitting her hips hard and heavy, the stable and slow strokes while she fills your ears with these strings of babbles that aren’t really conceivable to decipher or understand. She got a little to excited, bouncing her ass back against your cock while you just drop your arms and admired the show, before pushing deep with your balls nicking the clit at the end of every thrust, and that earns you these thick gasps, only taking you whole with every slam of your weight against her nimble body. “God, I- fuck- need you all the time, please.” 

“Whatever you want,” you hush against the crook of her neck. That is something that you’ll take to heart under oath. She croons at how you're spilling all of these filthy things in her ear, a guarantee of sorts to the promises that have already bent the both of your minds into obliviion. "If it helps to stop you from fucking those other scumbags you call 'your clients' on a weekend basis, then I'll give it to you, sweetheart."

The self-control went off the rails a while ago, this was just free real estate with the endless cantations of moans coming out of her. "Need me to cum inside this sopping cunt so badly?" you ask, pulling a handful of hair that lifts her by the neck, "love using this pussy to get myself off."

She's giggling at the action because it's necessary. You could imagine the grin on her face for the entire world to see. "Words baby, or I'll cum-"

“Fuck- just, do anything- I want you.” Minju gasps with a whine tinged behind the words. It’ll be in the records, spoken into existence. She could care more less than a fuck of what others think after all of this is over. Pace slowing down, feeling that throb tremor against her walls when you’ve held out for this long, an overdue reward in itself. 

It just took one more good hit to bury your cock into that perfect pussy, spilling everything, sending it deeper in the trenches of her cunt, fucking yourself in while she’s putting some effort to say your name, only for it to be overpowered by the gluttal moans you’re letting out while the shackles of tension finally come loose. Her head is pressed enough to leave a visible print on the cushions, crying before the shudder translates to her noises when you drive all the way in for one final time, letting the pulse die out; every heartbeat, every drop. 

Your nose is pressed into the side of her head, taking in that sweet scent from her hair, showered in bliss, tangling and untangling until she takes rest in your arms, straddling your lap, chin forming alongside the small dip in your collarbone. 

Minju offers this lazy smile, matching your rise and fall of breaths in your chest, blowing this hint of cool air to your neck that makes you twitch slightly from the sudden sensation, lips against the line of your throat: 

“A hot and steamy affair, huh? I think I can let that pass by.” 

“You really want to call it that?” you inquire, hands sliding down to the plush of her ass. 

Minju simply laughs while you shake your head at the rhetorical question. “All honesty though, I thought that you and-” 

“We are not going there.” you tell her, leaning back when she sets herself straight in your arms, hands along broad shoulders with the curtain of her hair falling towards one side. Definitely something that you’ve had in a wet dream before - talk about having deja vu. “Absolutely not.” 

It’s when she trails her fingertip across the chiseled form of muscle across your chest, elevating her hand higher to cup your face. She gives you this look in her eyes, the kind that would make anyone keel over because as you’re reminded: Minju is someone who always gets what she wants. And when she rubs her thumb across your cheek, your cock jumps a few millimeters underneath her hips to which she notices, and seizes the opportunity presented to her. 

Leaning forward with a purring whisper in the act, and you’re suspended in time while she moves. “I think I should repay you for treating me right just now.” 

Minju has never owed anything to you. For the most part in your career, it was her that has given you these chances to make a name for yourself, to prove that you could go toe to toe with the best in the court, to prove to her why she chose you out of countless others to be her associate. If anything, you owe pretty much everything to her. 

But maybe-

Maybe just this once-

“My little pretty boy needs to have his cock all cared for, right?” she asks when she sinks down to the edge of the disgraced couch, spreads your knees apart, eyes trained on you, lowering her head to swipe her tongue across your balls and the base of your shaft, feeling that same twitch in your cock when she gets a dainty hand across the length, well trained with the languid strokes that she’s giving you; it’s not hard to give in to that searing heat of her mouth while you’re trying to find the right words to respond. 

(The options here are very limited: considering the fact that you have your hips forward with your friend / partner / new love interest slobbering all over your length, rubbing the head of your cock across her pretty face until she drains you out completely, painting her cheek white and bathing in the taste of your cum while you’re struggling to stay awake. 

After all, you could just spend the night here at the firm bearing in mind how late it is. 

Or better yet, have Minju stay at your place to not give Dahyun another headache to deal with the next morning.) 

[aemondapologistfrfr]

How to Become No One

aegon x witch!fem!reader 

Summary: The Dowager Queen calls upon you to try and heal her son. You never expected to find such a bond with another’s magic. This story of healings takes them across two continents and through many trials. 

Warnings: 18+ hurt comfort fr, swearing, mentions of injury not too detailed but kind of, blood, pain, medicine, hurt sunfyre but he gets healed fr, threats, mentions of murder, murder, different kind of magic system, a healing journey fr, faceless men moment, house of the undying, oral(f receiving), p in v after he’s healed bffr

Authors Note: my friend begged me to write this but i clearly didn’t need that much persuading 🫣, i had no idea where i was going with this although it’s giving tower of dawn vibes iykyk, i’ve skewed a lot of things to fit my narrative, not sorry x

Word Count: 6.8k idek what to say!!

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My days in this dark city never seem to have an end or a beginning. I wait at a booth in the back of a tavern waiting for paying customers. Usually they come and ask me to place blood curses or cause immeasurable pain. The man before me is begging for something that’s never been asked of me before which has piqued my curiosity.

“The Dowager Queen is seeking your talents and discretion.” A man with a thick westerosi accent pleads to me. 

“She is no Queen to me.” I look over him. 

“Surely the payment she’s offering can sway you?” he pulls out a well filled sack. “This is just for the trip there. There is more waiting for you in Kings Landing.” the money he’s speaking of could allow me to leave these lands for good. 

“What is the extent of his injury?” I lean back and look at him contemplatively. 

“He has sustained burns to half of his body. He fell a great distance off his dragon. He has regained consciousness, but remains in great pain. The Grand Maester believes there are injuries within that are out of his expertise.” his voice wavers as he pushes the gold to me. 

I sit back and wonder how the Dowager Queen of Westeros heard of me all the way in Asshai. Sending one of her men to this city to seek me out is madness and I can appreciate her desperation. I could probably get them to pay me even more than they’re planning. It’s been some time since I’ve used my powers to help someone. I grab the bag of coins and the man looks to me hopeful. 

“I will come with and do what I can.” I nod to him. 

“Pack your bags and we will leave at once. I have a ship at the ready in the harbor.” he rises quickly. 

“I have nothing of value worth bringing. We can leave now.” I rise with him as he furrows a brow to me. 

“No one to say goodbye to?” he asks overstepping. 

“Lead the way to your ship.” I nod my head at him hoping he gets the hint. 

We shuffle through the city quickly avoiding the dark streets and ominous folk. As we approach the dock I can see the ridiculously large boat this man no doubt came on. I shake my head to myself as I board and the men begin preparing for us to leave. I look back at the city finally ready to leave it behind me. 

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The week on the boat was less than desirable, but I was finally able to find sleep. I was able to try and prepare a plan to help the fallen King. I couldn’t make too many decisions until I’m able to assess him myself in person. As we dock my blood thrums at the magic that is flowing out of this city. It slips around the streets and seems to pour from the other end of the city in form of living animals. Dragons. I didn’t think they would have them so close to their home and within the city walls. 

Once we’re docked I’m whisked into a carriage and brought directly to the castle. The man escorts me directly in and up the stairs. We stop in front of a large set of double doors which he knocks on quickly. 

“You’re back. Did she come?” a woman looks past the man I’ve been traveling with. “Thank the Gods.” 

“I choose to come here. Not the Gods.” I brush past her into the room where I can feel the pain and hear the groans. 

My eyes widen as I see the King being forced to walk around the room. There’s a man who is panicked and wants him back in bed and there’s a man with a club foot fighting against the Kings rest. I flare my nostrils that they would even entertain the thought of having him out of bed. 

“Get him back in the bed. Now.” I say through my teeth. “Are you fucking daft? How long has it been since the injury?” I walk to the bed as they lay him back down as his watery eye looks to me. 

“Hello? Can anyone speak?” I snap as I look around the room. 

“Just over a week.” the man in a white robe says. 

“And you’re the maester I presume?” I raise my eyebrow to him. 

“I am.” he nods looking at me nervously. 

“Mm, and this was your idea? To have your King up and walking about while he’s clearly in pain?” my voice starting to rise. Who knows what extra damage they’ve caused. 

“It was my plan, my Lady.” the clubfoot speaks. 

“I am no Lady.” I look at him with disgust. “And why would you have say over what is best for his health? You seem to only have one leg yourself? Shall I ruin your other and make you walk about the halls?” I walk towards him with darkening eyes. 

“No, I-“ he stutters stumbling back. 

“Leave this room. You’re not to enter again.” my eyes flash to the door and he’s quickly hobbling out. 

“What should we call you?” the woman asks. 

“Y/n. You are the Queen I assume?” my eyes look to her grateful ones. 

“Yes, Alicent. You don’t know how much it means to me that you came.” her voice cracks as she looks to her son. 

“I’ll see what I can do. Leave me with the Maester.” I wave them off and they quickly leave the room. “Tell me his external injuries.” I look to him as I walk to the Kings side. 

“As you can see he has burns.” he murmurs 

“Indeed, I can heal some of this but he will remained scarred.” I hum ghosting my fingers across the edge of the bed. 

“He has a broken leg that we’ve set and try to keep elevated.” he adds. 

“Unless you’re having him walk on said broken bone. How is that productive Grand Maester?” my eyes shoot to his. 

“Lord Larys demanded, I-“ 

“You let the clubfoot boss you around? Interesting.” I shake my head. “What else of your King?” I sigh. 

“Obviously he’s thoroughly bruised and beaten. I fear there’s more going on internally. His pain is immense.” he looks down folding his hands. 

“What is his name?” I hum trailing my fingers down his unscathed side. 

“Aegon.” the Grand Maester looks to my hand. 

“Where is his dragon?” I ask softly as I can feel the fire within his veins. 

“He’s been incapacitated and left at Rooks Rest.” his voice soft. 

“Bring the dragon here. They need each other, especially now. I’ll help them both.” I decide and look up to the Maester. 

“I will talk to the Prince Regent.” he avoids my eyes. 

“You’re scared of him. I am not. I would like to have an audience with him.” Aegon groans below me at my words. “I will meet him alone and not here.” I nod my head to the Maester dismissing him. 

I look down to the broken King below me and let out a soft exhale. This will be a challenge but I know I can fix this man below me. God knows why they left his dragon. I thought these dragonlords thought them Gods. I bring a stool to the side of Aegons bed and look to him. 

“Can you speak, Aegon?” I ask softly. 

“I can.” his voice rough. His lungs are still clouded with smoke and he’ll need a mixture to help begin to clear them and loosen what remains. 

“I will make something to help with your throat and chest so it’s easier to talk. I am here help.” the words taste weird on my tongue but I can see the relief he feels at them. 

“Thank you,” he starts to cough and I feel the rumble in his chest and the expanse of pain. 

I lay my hand on the smooth side of his chest and release tendrils of magic into him to help alleviate some of the pain. His breathing settles as his watery eye looks to me. The tears that slide down his cheek crack something in me and I pull away. 

“Are you a God?” his voice shattered. 

“I’m far from a God.” I let out a small chuckle as I rise. 

“Please don’t leave me,” his unmarred hand reaches for me. 

For a reason I don’t understand, or refuse to understand, I sit back down on the stool and place his hand in mine. My other hand reaches up and wipes away his flowing tears and he leans into my hand. Healing this man below me is going to take more than I anticipated. 

“Y/n,” the Maester walks through the door. “The Prince Regent will see you in the council chambers.” I nod my head as I walk to the table and begin writing down a list of herbs and tinctures. 

“I would like these brought to me. He is not to get out of that bed. If I come back and find him to be standing the person responsible will find themselves indisposed.” the Maester looks at me with wide eyes and nods. 

I follow a guard down the hall and stairs. This castle is massive and much brighter than I’m used to. We walk quickly down the halls avoiding anyone. We stop in front of yet another set of double doors which the guard groans open. I step in and the guard leaves me alone with the Prince Regent. 

“Who are you to summon me?” his voice carries across the chambers. 

“See to it that the Kings dragon is brought here with haste.” I look him over as I feel the rage pouring off of him. 

“You do not command me.” he says lowly rising from his chair. 

“No, the King does. You are simply a second son.” I hum walking to the table further assessing him. 

“You will not speak to me like that.” he grabs his dagger. 

“Have the dragon brought back alive or I will take your other eye before you can even get within range of me.” I say simply and he fumes stepping towards me. 

I blink and when I open my eyes I’m back in Aegons chambers. He’s asleep and I can hear the backup in his lungs. I softly place a hand on his shoulder and send out my magic into his blood stream. The magic in his entangles with mine and it seems to be begging for help. Mine continues on the search for other injuries that will need my assistance. 

My magic trails over his ribs and shutters. They’re bruised roughly and cracked in some spots. It continues to flow down his body and it reaches his broken leg and begins to stich some of itself into the marrow to help assist with mending it back together. He will still need rest and casting to keep it set but it will heal and hopefully quickly. 

The Maester walks in with a basket and places it on the table. I walk to the basket and dismiss him. I begin to prepare the mixture and sigh knowing it’ll taste terrible going down. Once I finish I walk back over to the bed and smooth Aegons hair until he slowly starts to stir. He jumps and I feel his anxiety spike as I continue to comfortingly pet his hair. 

“This is going to taste terrible. After a few days of this your voice will be back to normal and your lungs will be cleared.” he nods and lifts his head as I bring the cup to his lips. He gags as he swallows down the mixture and I help him lay back once he’s settled. 

“I’m having your dragon brought back.” I hum looking down to him. 

“My perfect Sunfyre.” he sighs as his eye starts to water again.

“I will help heal him as well. Until he gets here I will focus on your internal injuries first.” I hum sitting back on the stool. 

The dragon magic is evident in his veins but he needs a dragon connection to help make it stronger and allow me to begin healing his fire related injuries. Those injuries won’t be easy for him to heal and I won’t be able to reverse everything but I will be able to help lessen it. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Over the past week I have been able to heal his lungs and ribs. He has been talking to me and remaining silent around others. He’s pleaded with me to not share his progress with anyone. I can tell it’s from fear of someone I’m just not sure of who yet. I’ve been slowly trying to figure it out but he shuts down when I pry. 

“Is there any word on Sunfyre?” he asks me this everyday and today I can finally say that I do. 

“He shall be within the Red Keep gates within the hour.” I smile to him as his eye lights up. 

“Will you take me to see him?” he asks sitting up. 

“I need to assess him first and start his healing too. Your leg still needs to be in a cast and elevated. I don’t want the progress we’ve made to be for naught.” I pat his hand. 

“You’re not frightened by dragons?” he tilts his head. 

“Do I seem like the kind of person who has fears, Aegon?” I smile down to him. 

“Please help him if you can.” his voice soft as his eye pleads. 

“I will do everything I can.” I nod my head to him before I start towards the doors. 

“Please come back when you’re done,” his voice a whisper as his magic pulls out to mine. 

“You know I will.” I reply without turning around to him before shutting the doors behind me. 

I know the dragonlords know nothing of the extent of their magic. His calls to mine so loudly it’s been deafening over the past couple of days. Even now as I exit the main doors of the Keep I can feel it lingering after me. I feel another influx of magic as the gates groan open in front of me as they cart in a golden dragon. 

“Sunfyre.” I breathe out and his eye opens and looks directly to me. 

The gates shut and the men pulling the cart quickly disperse. I slowly walk up to the dragon and feel the absolute agony this great being is in. I look at his festering wounds and steady my feet. His breathing is labored as he tries to crane his neck. 

“Calm, Sunfyre. I will need to clean your wounds. I fear they’ve become infected and I will need to deeply inspect them.” I speak softly to the dragon as I approach with outstretched hands. 

I place my hand on his ripped stomach and almost double over at the pain that’s overwhelming my magic. I steel my feet beneath me and bring my other hand to join. The wounds begin seeping again as the infection is slowly being pushed out of his body. I remove my hands and stand back to catch my breath. 

I call for the guards to bring me fresh water basins and cloths. I take a seat on the stone and rest my back against the cart. Sunfyre grumbles from above me and pushes his snout into my shoulder. 

“Aegon lives. Though I’m sure you can feel that.” I sigh leaning back watching the guards bring me my supplies. 

I stand and begin to work on cleaning the wounds. The gouges are deep and I’m surprised that Sunfyre lasted as long as he did. The dragon groans and snaps its jaws as I clean for hours. Once I’m satisfied the wounds are truly clean I look up and notice it’s not the sun lighting my work but torches as the moon is high in the sky. 

“Bring live feed for him. Along with water.” I instruct and turn on my heel to return to Aegons chambers. 

“Where have you been? How is Sunfyre?” his eyes go wide as he looks at the blood on my hands and dress. 

“His wounds are cleaned and disinfected. I’m having food and water brought to him now. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how long I was gone or I would’ve sent word.” I sigh as I walk to his bathing chambers in hopes of finding something to wash my hands with. 

“Call for a servant to make you a bath.” he sits up looking to me with furrowed brows. 

“I should’ve washed before I came here. I was just in a rush,” I shake my head at my rambling. 

“Guards,” he shouts for the first time all week. 

“My King,” the guard bursts in the door not having heard his kings voice in well over a week.

“Have a servant come and make Y/n a bath.” he nods to the guard. 

“At once.” the guard nods and shuts the door behind him. 

“Aegon,” I start. 

“A bath is the least I can offer.” he cuts me off shaking his head. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Sunfyre is restored save for scars. Him and his rider will have that in common. I collect small vials of blood from Sunfyre throughout the week to mix into a poultice for Aegons burns. Sunfyre surprisingly cooperates and has no issues with my poking and prodding. 

“What is this now?” Aegons voice weary as I approach with the blood mixture. 

“The most painful part I’m afraid.” I murmur as I sit on the bed next to him. 

“What does it do?” he eyes the bowl in my hand. 

“Help with the burns. It will help heal and lessen them, at the cost of reliving the initial trauma.” I look to him as his eye goes wide. 

“Y/n,” his voice trembles as his unscarred hand reaches for mine. “I’m scared.” a tear slips down his face. 

“I’m here. You will be safe.” I murmur wiping away his tears. 

“Please not all at once.” his voice broken and pleading. 

“Of course not,” I shake my head. “I want to see if I can at least heal your eye first.” I bring my hand up to cup his scarred cheek. 

“Do you think you can?” his voice full of hope. 

“We shall find out.” I hum. 

His unscarred hand holds onto mine tightly. I take my free hand and dip my fingers into the blood mixture and hoover it over his closed eye. I softly spread it over the burnt skin and I begin to see it sizzle. His hand squeezes mine and I feel as if my hand is going to break. 

“It hurts, it hurts.” Aegon sobs and my heart cracks. 

“I’m sorry, I’m here, you’re safe.” I try to push my magic into his but his dragon magic is linking with Sunfyres blood blocking out any relief. 

I slide into the bed next to him and begin to smooth his hair as he continues to squeeze my hand. His sobs are slowly tearing into my soul and I feel absolutely helpless. His breathing starts to slow and his tears stop. I hover above him and look upon his eye. I get off the bed and retrieve a clean cloth and dip it into water. I wipe off his eye and relief washes over me. I push my magic into him and send it straight to his eye. The nerves are starting to repair themselves and I sigh as I feel the last connection. 

“Open your eyes Aegon.” I whisper down to him. 

He blinks his eyes open and a smile spreads across my face. I’ve done it. He has his other eye open and it appears to be moving in sync with the other as if there’s no issue. He scans the room and his violet eyes land on me. 

“You’ve done it.” Aegon starts crying. I smile down to him and cup his face. 

“You’ve done it. It takes a lot of strength to go through that again. You are very strong and brave.” I offer him praise and he begins crying even harder. 

“Can that heal my entire body?” he looks up to me with watery eyes. 

“It could but it would take many moons. It took me a whole week to collect this blood just for your eye.” I look to him biting my lip. 

“And whose blood is that?” he looks to me blinking rapidly still getting used to having both eyes once more. 

“Sunfyres.” I look to the now empty bowl. 

“He allowed you to take his blood?” he looks at me quizzically. 

“Indeed, I have a way with words.” I hum smiling down to him. “Although, I do have another way to help you, but me suggesting this may be overstepping and possibly a little insane.” I say hushed biting my lip. 

“What is it?” he hangs on to my every word. 

I’ve been mulling over this idea since I first saw the broken King. I have heard of many different magics and Gods throughout my years and this is the first time I’ve ever considered seeking them out. Running away with the King of Westeros is absolutely mad but I’m hoping he’ll come with me. I’m reluctant to admit that I’ve become quite fond of him and wish to take him away from his family. 

“We will reside in Bravos as you work to become a part of the Faceless Men Guild. There they will train you on how to become no one. After you succeed, I know of sorcerers in Essos who can conjure a doppelgänger or a clone of sorts that would almost directly resemble you, save for a few features. From here we bring him back to Bravos where essentially you would kill him and take his face and in turn kill your old self.” Aegon blinks at me as he takes in this information and plan. 

“You said we? You would stay with me?” he looks up to me as if this is the only factor that matters to him. 

“I would, if you want me to.” I chew on the inside of my cheek. 

“For how long?” he sits up. 

“As long as you’d like me to.” I murmur looking to him. 

“Why?” he squints his eyes assessing me. 

“I’ve become quite attached to you.” I look to him with raw eyes. “My magic seems to hum and mold with yours.” I whisper. 

“My magic?” he raises an eyebrow. 

“We can explore it later once we’re safe.” I nod to him hoping he’ll come with me. 

He starts to rise from his bed and I go to his side. He brushes me off as he stands and strides across the room and I’m left speechless. He opens his wardrobe and pulls out a bag and begins to stuff clothes and coin into it. He grabs a cloak and pulls it over his shoulders before turning back to me. 

“Let’s go tonight.” I look at him in shock as he stands before me. “Oh, I’ve been practicing at night. I wanted to surprise you.” a small half smile spreads across his face. 

“You amaze me.” I shake my head in awe of him. 

“Come, I know a way where we won’t be seen.” he pulls me to the wall before opening a door to the internal tunnels. 

“Put both of your hands in mine and close your eyes.” I hum and he grabs my hands quickly. 

I look to make sure his eyes are closed and I slowly shut mine and picture us on a boat that is to arrive in Bravos within the day. I breathe out and open my eyes as I hear the sea crash onto the wooden ship. Aegons hands clench mine as his eyes open. His eyes go wide as his hands fall from mine as he looks out at the sea. 

“Are you sure you’re not a God?” he whispers as he turns back to me. 

“I’m sure.” I smile as I pull him to an empty bench as we watch the sea sway. 

“What of Sunfyre?” he turns to me with worry in his voice. 

“He’ll most likely follow our magic here and reside in the countryside. He’ll be safe regardless of his decision.” I nod my head assuring him. 

We sit in silence as the ship hands begin preparing for us to reach the docks. We keep to ourselves so we don’t call any attention to ourselves. Once the boat docks we slip off the boat and go into the city to seek shelter for the upcoming moons. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

We’ve been residing a couple blocks from the guild and they were respectful enough of me and my magic to allow Aegon to reside with me and not within the walls. If they wouldn’t have allowed it I know he would not have stayed, he is attached to my hip when he’s not training with them. I don’t much mind because I enjoy feeling wanted for once. 

He comes through the door and up the stairs into our main room and pulls me into a hug. He has begun to pick apart my walls and is the first person I’ve allowed to hug me in years, if not decades. I hold him against me and whisper words of praise to him. Everyday we have a routine of me peppering him with compliments and encouragement to get him out of our small apartment and then words of praise and adoration when he comes home. 

We’ve become very domestic over the past two moons. We started sharing a bed instead of taking turns on the lumpy couch. I cook us dinner while he talks of his training and tasks and I listen dutifully. While he’s gone during the day I venture into the city and make coin by doing easy healing. If I want a little extra coin to buy Aegon his favorite food I’ll cast a couple curses and then make my way to the meat market. 

“I have my final test tomorrow.” his eyes slide to mine. 

“Already?” I look up to him. 

“I have no issue being no one because I’ve spent my whole life as no one.” he says softly as I feel his sadness. 

“Then you shall be mine.” the words fall from my lips before I can stop them. 

“Y/n,” he whispers looking to me with glassy eyes. 

“Aegon,” I walk to him and cup his face. 

“I wish I wasn’t so hideous,” he looks up to me as his eyes become red as his tears fall. 

“I don’t think you’re hideous.” I say hushed as I kiss his forehead. I slowly offer him kisses around his face and make sure to pay extra attention to his scarred side. 

“I don’t deserve you.” he shakes his head as tears cascade down his cheeks. “I just want to kiss you and walk around the city with you without everyone feeling bad for you. I want you to see me as the man I can truly be.” his voice cracking as he continues to cry burying himself in my arms. 

“I see you as the man you wish to be. Your scars have never made me feel any different about you.” I smile smoothing his hair. “If you truly wish to kiss me, then kiss me.” my words barely audible. 

He pulls back from me and looks to me. He looks to my lips but shakes his head and looks away. I know he’s fighting an internal battle that I can’t help with. He lets out a deep breath and shakes his head and looks to me again. 

“Fuck it,” he shrugs and pulls my lips to his. 

My magic seeps into his mouth and caresses his. His tongue pushes into my mouth and slides against mine as I sigh. His hand travels to the back of my neck keeping me tightly against him as if I’ll slip away. His other hand wraps tightly around my back and I wrap my arms around him clinging to him. We slowly pull back breathing heavily and he places one last kiss on lips before stepping back and looking me over. 

“Thank you for seeing me as I am.” he smiles to me. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

After Aegon returns the next day he’s beaming at passing. I hug him tightly as I feel his excitement as our next step is approaching. I’ve been storing my magic for us to make this journey to Qarth and have enough for us to make the return back to Bravos. We pack a small bag which is mostly filled with coins should they decide to be greedy. I hold my palms out to Aegon and he places his hands in mine and closes his eyes as he knows what’s coming. 

We blink open our eyes in the morning sun as we stand in front of the House of the Undying. A gray man exits the single door and looks directly through me to my magic. Aegons hand is still in mine as he looks on at the strange man. 

“Y/n, it’s been quite awhile.” his voice speaks directly in my mind. 

“I require a favor.” I ask my voice strong and unwavering. 

“A new face for your lover?” he looks to Aegon and smiles. 

“What is your price?” I ask aloud. 

“Come inside, we can discuss this with my counterparts.” we waves us in after him. 

“Do not accept anything. Let me do the talking.” I whisper lowly pulling him inside with me. 

As we enter the stone building it completely warps until we’re sanding in front of multiple seated gray men. Their magic is similar to mine but theirs always seems to leave my head reeling. I ground myself and look over them before me. 

“How lovely it is to see you again, Y/n.” one of them purrs across the hall. 

“I’m absolutely delighted to be here.” I look up to them with dead eyes. 

“Come now, last time wasn’t so bad.” the leader of them walks down to stand in front of Aegon and me. 

“Interesting that you couldn’t care less if he’s handsome or not. You’re doing this for him.” his voice slithers around my ears. 

“What is your price?” I look to him expectantly, unfazed by his words. 

“Why can’t we talk first? It’s been so long. Let us have some tea.” he hums as the room warps once more and we’re sitting at a table with a kettle and three cups around us. 

“Do not drink the tea.” I push Aegons cup away from him. 

“I hope Asshai and the shadow lands treated you well.” the man smiles with rotted teeth. 

“It was a very eye opening experience. I learned many things that only the shadows whisper.” I return his predatory smile. 

“Enlighten me,” he drawls. 

My magic slinks out of me and pierces into his corpse of a body. He chuckles lowly as it circles around his heart but it disappears quickly as I delve deeper to constrict around his remaining life force. 

“You know what I seek and I shall have it or your eternity will be cut short.” I nod my head to him as my magic begins to encapsulate his magic. 

“You have gone where we won’t even tread.” his voice a whisper as his eyes cloud over with blackness. 

“Do you wish for me to take you there?” I tilt my head. 

The scene warps around us and we’re back in the hall with the rest of the Undying. They look on as their leader is crumbling to the floor and they all shoot to their feet. Aegon is ever silently sitting next to me watching me in silent awe. 

“Enough!” they shout and I slowly begin to pull my magic back. 

“Bring him out.” the leader coughs as his breathing simmers. 

The only features that I see are different about the man walking into the room in front of me is shorter hair and blue eyes. Aegon stands as he approaches and looks to him shaking his head. He turns to me with tears in his eyes and I rise to his side. The three of us link hands and shut our eyes and when we open them we are back in our small apartment in Bravos. 

“Can I do it now?” he releases my hands as the man with us looks blankly ahead. 

“Before you do,” I pull him to me and place my lips on his. “I would be content to spend the rest of my days with you as you are now, Aegon.” I pull back look to him and nod my head. 

He turns to the man and pulls a knife from his waist. He brings it up and quickly slips it across the man’s neck and helps him ease to the ground. As he rises I look to the scarred man on the ground and begin to trail my eyes up to the man before me. As my eyes travel up to his face I see he’s still focused on his former self on the ground. 

“How strange.” Aegon says tilting his head at the body. “I feel so free.” his eyes make their way to mine as I take in his now stormy blue eyes. 

“Your magic is the same. You are the same Aegon to me.” I wave my hand at the body and it disappears into a black cloud of shadow. 

He pulls me to the bath room and he stares in the mirror. He’s touching his face and running his fingers through his hair. For the first time I truly feel his magic settled and content. It rests against mine lulling it. Our eyes lock in the mirror and he turns to me. 

“Do you like the way I look?” he asks me nervously. 

“I do.” I reassure him pulling him into a hug. 

“I can kiss you properly now.” he murmurs into my neck. “My face won’t feel so rough. Both of my hands will be smooth as they explore every inch of you. I have a full head of hair you can pull on when I’m buried between your thighs. Men won’t think they can so easily steal you from me.” his words are laced with promises that tear through me. 

“You know I didn’t care what you looked like before.” I whisper holding him tighter to me. 

“But I did. So thank you for helping me.” he kisses my neck softly as I shutter. “I never expected you to do this for me when you walked into my chambers all those moons ago.” he holds me tighter still peppering kisses along my pulse. 

He kisses up my jaw until he locks our lips together. His hand buries itself in my hair molding me to him. I moan into his mouth and pull him closer to me. My hands trail up to his now short hair and pull it as he groans into my mouth. 

“I want you, I need you. Please,” he pulls back from my lips and looks to me desperately as I feel his need pulsing around the room. 

“You have me.” I nod to him as he attaches his lips back to mine. 

He walks us out of the bathroom and into our bedroom. He starts to pull off my dress quickly and groans when he takes in my body. His hands immediately roam over my skin as I shiver at his soft touch. His fingertips are hot with his magic thrumming through him. 

“I just want to touch you.” he says softly as he lays me back on the bed. 

His hands glide along my curves and he settles above me. He kisses me once more as his fingers dip between my legs. I shutter at his light teasing touches as he chuckles against my lips. 

“Why are you still wearing clothes?” I whine as his fingers travel around my core avoiding where I want him. 

He kisses down my throat and licks across my chest. He sucks a nipple into his mouth as a gasp falls from my mouth. His other hand goes to my other to flick against it until I’m pushing my chest up into his face. His short hair tickles across my stomach as he dips between my thighs. He kisses my thighs as I try to control my breathing as I watch him. 

He licks slowly up my slit and my head falls back to the pillow. His tongue spreads my wetness before licking up to my clit swirling around it. He closes his lips around me and begins a rhythm that has me bucking into his mouth. 

“Aegon,” his name falls from my lips repeatedly as my hand snakes into his hair. 

He groans against me and continues to lick against me. I come on his mouth as he continues at a faster speed before slamming his fingers into me. My legs try to shut around his head and he just chuckles into my core as my legs capture him. His fingers quicken and I’m moaning like I belong in a pleasure house and he tears more pleasure from me. 

“I’d be happy to spend the rest of my days here.” he kisses my sensitive bud causing me to shutter. 

He rises off the bed and I look at him with heavy eyes. He slowly removes his clothes as if he’s taunting me and I sit there and lick my lips patiently. He looks to me with darkened eyes as he strokes himself. 

“I was worried my cock would be smaller.” he chuckles lowly as I squirm watching him touch himself. 

He crawls over me and takes my lips for his own. I feel the confidence of his movements and he becomes more sure of himself. He grinds his hips against mine as he slides through my wetness. He lines himself up and pushes into me groaning loudly. 

I whimper as he starts to move his hips. At first it’s slow and then it turns into the fiery passion like his magic. His hips pound into mine as I cling to him. His lips swallow my moans as kisses me full of teeth and tongue. His hips start to falter as I grind my hips against his. 

“I’m sorry I’m not gunna last much longer,” he grunts against my mouth as he chases his pleasure. 

His magic caresses against mine and I feel hot pleasure wash over me as his warmth begins to fill me. I clench around him while his hips continue to slowly grind into me. He kisses me slowly as he allows us to continue to feel our pleasure. He releases me and lays next to me but pulls me close against him. 

“I never would’ve thought I could do that again. I was scared I would have to fantasize about you forever.” he giggles as he starts to pepper kisses across my chest. 

“Aegon,” I whimper as my hand flies to his hair. 

“Do you want me to grow it out again?” he looks up to me. 

“Whatever makes you happy,” I hum down at him. 

“What about my eyes? Are you sad they aren’t violet anymore?” he searches my eyes. 

“I love your blue eyes as much as I did your violet ones.” I hum cupping the side of his face. 

“Do you want to stay in Bravos or should we go somewhere else?” he looks to me. 

“Let’s decide that in the morning.” I bring his lips to mine once more. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌

[holylulusworld]

Breathlessness

Summary: Will your dream come true?

Summary: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Boss kink

Warnings: angst, Bucky being an awful boss (mentioned), enemies to lovers, tension, secret crush, hurt reader, drinking, flirting, making -out, a lil roughness, implied smut

Catch up here: Breathless & Take my breath away

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

“Doll, I think we should talk about a few things after we finished the hot dog…”

You wring your hands and look your boss in the eyes. “Now that I finished my hot dog, what did you want to talk about?” Nervously chewing on your lower lip, you try to tame your racing heart. Does he feel the pull you feel toward him too?

“The reason for this business trip was not the deal with Barton,” he explains. “My new partner needs an assistant for our branch in town. He asked me for a reliable assistant, and I suggested you.”

You blink a few times. “What? I…are you firing me?” You can’t believe after working hard for him for years that Bucky will fire you. “I don’t understand. Why would you do this to me?"

“No,” he shakes his head. “We didn’t get along well over the years. You’re a good assistant, but the chemistry is just wrong. You make me a bad person and a bad boss.”

Bucky destroys all of your hopes. It’s not his fault, though. He doesn’t know about your little daydreams or that the last days were special to you. It felt like there was more between the two of you than your job.

“Wow,” you sniffle. “That’s a first. No one ever told me that I make them a bad person.” You huff. “You know what? Fuck you! I quit and will take the job offer I got weeks ago! I hope you drown in your paperwork and shit.”

“Y/N, I made sure you’ll get a good job and better payment. Steve is a good man, a good boss too.” He tries to stop you and grabs your wrist. “Wait!”

“I swear,” you curl your upper lip and glare at him, “if you do not let go of my wrist, I’ll scream, and everyone will believe you’re a monster trying to hurt me.”

Bucky drops his hand from your wrist and steps back. “I didn’t want to hurt you. It’s just that we don’t work together well, and I tried to find a good job for you. It’s me, not you.”

“I call bullshit,” you scoff. “It’s me, not you,” you mimic. “Who says this anyway? You found a replacement in one of your one-nighters, and now you want to get rid of me.”

He cocks a brow at your outburst. Bucky believed that you'd be all over the moon hearing he found a better position for you and to get away from him.

“I’ll use the company card for the remaining days and fly back first class. The moment we land, we are done, Mr. Barnes. You will regret replacing me with your brainless Barbie dolls,” you snap at him before turning on your heels.

Bucky watches you storm off. He feels like you slapped him across the face. Your boss planned this surprise to make you happy, but now you’re angry and hurt.

“Another one,” you call for the bartender at the bar at your hotel. “My boss pays. Let’s make it hurt.” You huff, remembering all the things he said to you.

“A pretty lady like you shouldn’t drink alone,” one of the other guests moves closer, claiming one of the free seats next to you. He’s not bad to look at with his golden hair reaching his shoulders, his baby blue eyes, and a thick, but well-trimmed beard. “What are you doing here all alone?”

“Drinking,” you shrug. “I must fly back tomorrow, and then I’ll be unemployed and need to face my boss, who told me that I’m making him a bad person and an even worse boss.” You sniffle before downing the next drink.

“He’s a fool, if you ask me,” the stranger flashes you a stunning smile. “If you were working for me, I’d never let you go.”

“Good thing she’s not working for you, punk.” Bucky places his gloved hand on the man’s shoulder, squeezing hard. The man winces but tries not to show his pain. “If you’d excuse us now. I should have a serious conversation with my assistant.”

“Get fucked,” you growl and grab the next drink to throw it in Bucky’s face. “Remember, you wanted to sell me off to your buddy. I’m not your fucking assistant any longer.”

You hop off the bar stool and peck the stranger’s cheek. “Thanks for the nice chat. If not for my bad mood, I would ride the life out of you.”

Damn, you’ve never been so bold and forward before. But you must admit, you’re a little proud of yourself because Bucky’s jaw drops at your words.

“Anytime, pretty lady,” the stranger smirks. “Anytime…” He hands you his card before rising from his seat. He’s taller than Bucky and bulkier up close. “If you need a job, you can give me a call, too.”

You wink at him before running off, giggling like a schoolgirl because you feel giddy and scared at the same time because you just flirted with another man in front of your boss.

You’re dancing in your room, wearing nothing but the short nightie you bought in the hope of showing it to your boss.

After you entered your hotel room, you looked the stranger up on the internet. He’s an important man in the business world. Thor Odinson, CEO of Asgard Inc.

“If James Bastard Buchanan doesn’t appreciate me and my hard work,” you hiccup, “I’ll work for Mr. Big Blonde Hottie.”

Shaking your ass, you try to dance the day off. Not hours ago, you believed Bucky asked you to join him on the business trip to admit his feelings or make passionate love to you. Not to tell you that you bring out the worst in him.

The music suddenly stops. “What the fuck!”

“People are complaining about the fuss you make!” Bucky raises his voice. He looks you up and down before storming toward you to slam you into the wall behind you.

“HEY! Let go of me!” You wiggle in his iron grip. “Barnes! LET ME GO!”

“Only if you stop acting like a brat! I got a call. They told me that my guest was keeping everyone else awake." He’s in your face, breathing hard.

“I got every right to be angry and dance it off! My boss is an asshole.” You scoff as he looks hurt. “You could’ve at least let me fuck that hot beefy dude. I bet he got a big dick too.”

Bucky cocks a brow. “Do you honestly believe I’ll let my best assistant work for that punk? He wears out assistant after assistant. Odinson only uses women.”

That makes you snort. “As if you ever had a relationship lasting longer than a few weeks. You’re all the same. Fuck. Kick them out. Repeat. That’s what you all do. If you at least do a woman.”

You pout and look away.

“Oh…” Bucky hums. “You wanted me to do you?” He leans impossibly closer, forcing you to feel the heat coming out of his body and smell his cologne. “What do you think will happen if I get between those legs?”

“What—I,” you splutter, unsure how to answer.

“I’ll hurt you,” he dips his head to brush his nose along your neck. “I told you; you bring the bad guy out in me. If you let me have you, I’ll break you.”

You whimper at his promise. All you can do is press your legs together to ease the pulsing in your clit. He’s the personalized devil hiding behind blue eyes. How can he break your heart and come here, offering to give you what you’re craving?

“Do you want me to break you?” His teeth sink into your neck, making you cry out. “Please tell me you want me to break you. I can’t hold back much longer.”

Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer. He hoists you up and forces your legs around his waistline. Your boss grinds into you, making you keen as you can feel his erection against your bare cunt.

“I’ll break you,” he warns again, panting against you. “Don’t blame me if you end up with a broken heart.” His lips crash against yours to silence any protest. Bucky waited too long to let you slip through your fingers. His last resort was to let you go, but seeing you with Thor made him lose all control. “You’re mine.”

Breathless, you nod against his lips. You don’t fight him when you end up on the bed, nor when he rips your nightie off your body.

Tonight, you will give in to your needs and fulfill your deepest desires...

Tags in reblog.

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 11

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 6.4K

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption and smoking. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Will does something he never thought he would again, and after someone from his recent past seeks him out, things fall into place and call for celebration.

A/N: This is the second to last chapter and I'm feeling so bittersweet about it!! I can't believe how this world has unfolded and all the enthusiasm it's received, so a big thank you to everyone who has stuck with it and shared in my love for it! 💗 @whatever-lmaoo I hope you enjoy your scene! 🌌

Series Masterlist

The modest diamond was brighter than anything considering its size compared to some of the others, shining with impossible brilliance on its thin, yellow gold band as Will held the dainty ring between his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he nodded, looking up at the jeweler who had been showing him engagement rings for the past hour.

It was the first one Will noticed when he started eyeing the vast and overwhelming array of rings, able to picture it clearly on your hand, but was persuaded by the salesman to continue exploring other options and not settle for the one that caught his attention first despite knowing in his heart that it was perfect. The rest of them were too large or flashy, some of the settings too elaborate and downright outrageous in cost, and Will knew something humble and simple would be the perfect token to help symbolize your love even though both of you felt no need to conform to any of the traditional ways that people were convinced validated a relationship.

“It’s a lovely choice, Sir,” he confirmed. “She’ll love it.”

Will blew out a breath to try to calm himself, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement, hardly able to believe he was doing something he never thought he would do again in his life.

He had just finished paying for half of it and set up the payments for the rest when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and answered it while waiting for the jeweler to return with the ring secured in its little box.

“Hey, Ben.”

“Where are you, man? You’re late. You’re never late,” Benny quizzed from the other end of the phone.

“Yeah, I know, sorry. Something took a little longer than I thought, I’ll be right over.”

“What the hell are you doing that’s more important than helping me train?”

Will laughed. “You’ll see, just get started without me, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hung up and thanked the jeweler for his help when he returned with the ring that Will couldn’t wait to put on your finger, making his way out of the store and over to the gym with a smile that couldn’t be wiped from his face.

“That was longer than ten minutes!” Benny called from the cage, his gloved hands raising up as he spoke.

“Dude, I’m sorry!” Will laughed, unable to shake this good mood despite his brother being annoyed by his tardiness.

“Why are you so happy? What were you doing? Actually, do I want to know that?”

Will chuckled again as he stepped into the cage, fishing the tiny box out of the pocket of his jeans.

“No, I will not marry you,” Benny joked as Will opened the box and presented it to him, both brothers erupting with laughter before embracing each other in a hug.

“That’s awesome, man, I’m really happy for you,” the younger Miller spoke, patting Will on the back while still in his grasp with his padded fists.

“Thanks, bro,” Will smiled sheepishly, looking at the ring one more time before closing the box and stowing it back safely in his pocket.

“Do you know when you’re gonna do it?”

Will sighed and shook his head, his eyebrows raised. “Whenever it feels right, I guess. I don’t really have a plan,” he admitted.

“You always have a plan.”

“I did until her,” he smiled, thinking of how much his life and the ways he went about things had changed since he met you. You had disrupted his life in the best way, taking the strict order of how he lived and the walls he built up for protection and dismantled it all, your love bringing him a freedom that wasn’t chaotic or terrifying. The way you turned his world upside down had actually put it the right way up, making him realize that all the things he thought he was doing right were actually wrong, your presence in his life healing wounds he never thought could be mended.

“Well however you do it, she’s gonna say yes and it’ll be perfect for you both,” Benny assured him. “It definitely won’t be like the first time!”

“Fuck no,” Will agreed, wishing he could erase his previous engagement to his ex, having been given ultimatums if he didn’t propose, the cost of the hideous ring she wanted so badly putting him in more debt than he could handle.

“Okay, can I punch you now?” Benny asked, bringing Will out of his past with a laugh, ducking as he threw a loose hit at his face.

The sun was beaming down hard on the back of Will’s neck as he walked through the front yard back and forth in neat rows, the loud buzz of the lawnmower drowned out by the music playing in his headphones.

With the weather being so nice and it being a Sunday, tons of people were out on the street; families walking with their young kids and dogs to the park, and a few older couples passing by the house hand in hand who gave Will a nod and smile as they strolled.

He was attentive to everything, already knowing what cars each neighbour drove and fairly in-tune with the consistency in their schedules, so when an unfamiliar car pulled up and parked in front of the house, it made Will pause and watch to see who it was.

An average looking woman stepped out, glancing at the house number before continuing to walk up the sidewalk to the driveway, and Will plucked his headphones out of his ears and shut off the lawnmower as he stared at her curiously.

She looked almost nervous, and in her hands she held a round dish, but when she gave him a sweet smile, Will couldn’t help but return it.

“Can I help you?” he asked, squinting in the sunlight.

“I sure hope so!” she exclaimed, her voice suiting her demeanour.

She stopped when she was a few steps away from Will, her arms moving as she spoke that told Will her hands would be flying about if she didn’t have something in them.

“I don’t mean to bother you, but your brother told me I would find you here.”

Will tilted his head slightly as he listened, leaning more onto the handle of the mower that he still held onto with one hand.

“At least I’m hoping you’re his brother!” she giggled, but Will remained quiet so she could continue explaining who she was and what she wanted. “You’re Will Miller?”

He nodded. “That’s me.”

“You’re a hard man to track down!” she blurted, her relief clear in her words.

Will smiled but still looked at her with confusion, prompting her to scold herself.

“Oh, listen to me! You poor man standing here as I’m going on and on and I haven’t even told you who I am!” She cradled the dish in one arm and extended her right hand out to him. “My name is Patsy, and my husband is whose life you saved last week.”

Will was taken aback as he took her hand and shook it, being surprised at her introduction an understatement.

“Wow, hi. It’s nice to meet you, Patsy,” he greeted.

“I really hope I’m not overstepping, but I just wanted to thank you. I went to the store and spoke with the manager who told me who you were…”

When she trailed off, Will knew why, nodding as he understood that the manager had explained to her both incidents that made Will's name a memorable one at Publix.

“So I looked you up but the last address listed was old and other people live there now…”

Will nodded again, knowing it was the house he had lived in with his ex, a sigh blowing past his lips.

“But then I saw there was another Miller listed and I got a hold of him, and oh your brother is just such a dear and he gave me this address. He told me you wouldn’t mind me stopping by and–”

“I don’t mind at all, Patsy, this is nice,” Will assured her, seeing her eyes light up. “How’s your husband doing?”

“Ron,” she started, and Will was happy to finally learn his name. “He’s recovering well and back home already.”

“That’s great!”

“It was our anniversary that day. Thirty-nine years now!” she explained, her eyes appearing wet. “He went to pick up a few things to make us a special dinner for it…to think he almost didn’t come back home…” Patsy said quietly, blinking quickly. “But thanks to you, we’ll hopefully be on our way to forty and more!”

“Wow, congratulations!” Will offered, genuinely, watching her wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“Thank you, dear. We are both so grateful to you and we just don’t know how to thank you for what you did.”

Will shook his head. “It’s what anyone would’ve done. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

“Well, I’ve made you this pie. I don’t even know if you like pie…” she muttered under her breath, meeting his eyes again as she extended her arms to hold the dessert out for him. “It’s apple. Just give it a warm in the oven and it’s all set for you to enjoy.”

“Thank you,” Will beamed. “I’ve never been able to say no to pie and apple is my favourite.” He patted his stomach to assure her he loved to eat and she laughed, her kindness and warmth contagious.

“Is there someone you can share it with?” she asked, her question non-accusing or prying.

“Yeah, there is,” he confirmed, happily, any thought that went to you bringing out a bigger smile on his face.

“Oh, good. A sweet soul like yours deserves to be shared. Plus, you’re too damn handsome not to have someone!” She giggled at her own admission and clapped her hand on his forearm, patting it a couple of times before stepping away in the direction of her car.

“Thank you again, Will. You’re a good man.”

Will smirked and glanced at his shoes before meeting her eyes again, giving her one last smile and wave goodbye before turning to bring the pie inside the house.

Will still didn’t have a plan as to when he was going to pop the question, but it was even more on his mind now after his conversation with Patsy, realizing more than ever how precious life and love were, and he wanted to marry you on the spot if it was possible.

The rest of your Sunday had been blissful; cooking dinner together that was followed by two huge slices of the best apple pie both of you had ever tasted, and now your night was wrapping up in the best way you knew how with your naked bodies entangled after falling into bed straight from the shower.

Will hummed as he trailed his face up the side of your waist, his nose dragging along your soft skin that was still dotted with drops of water, the scent of your soap and the dampness clinging to you intoxicating him.

You moved to lay on your back, sighing out a pleasured noise as he continued to explore your bare torso with his lips, ghosting them over your stomach and hips, your hands smoothing over his upper back and through his wet hair.

He hummed again against your skin, the vibrations off his lips rumbling through so that it almost tickled, making you squirm beneath him.

With a slight chuckle, he grabbed your waist and pulled you with him as he rolled onto his back, guiding you to mount him where you looked down at him with a sweet smile, your hands splaying out on his chest.

“I wanna see you, sweetheart,” he purred, his eyes full of love and desire in the faint light from the lamp on your nightstand.

Your smile grew, the warmth from his adoration spreading through you like it was transferring from your fingertips that were connected to his chest and into every vein until it had you buzzing, his love for you always making you beam.

Water from your hair dripped down your shoulders and chest, the trails of it enhancing the curves of your breasts and valleys along your collarbones, catching Will’s eye as he watched you in awe.

You smoothed your hands from his pecs over to his arms, lacing your fingers with his as you leaned down to kiss him, your hands held securely together to support your forward motion, the water that fell from your saturated hair dropping onto his body where it peppered his clean, porcelain skin.

You breathed him in, your tongues beginning to tangle together as you settled on his groin, teasing yourself on his rigid cock that rested against your core.

A sharp inhale filled your lungs when his tip breached your entrance, filling just an inch of you with his leaking head yet still stretching your tight hole.

You rolled your hips forward, bringing him back out of you, only to have him angle his own when you seated yourself back on him again, pressing inside you a little deeper this time.

When you lifted off of him again, Will abandoned his connection with your hands and landed them on your upper thighs just below your hips, forcing you down on his length as he fully penetrated you with a growl that resounded in your mouth.

Your hands fell onto his head, raking through his hair as you deepened your kiss, grinding on his cock that slid in and out of you with your languid rhythm.

Will removed one of his hands off your waist and placed it on your cheek, gripping the side of your face with a demand that made your head spin as his need poured through his mouth, his kiss filling you with an equal want for more.

You broke away from his lips, your desire to ride him overpowering that to keep kissing him, moving your body against his faster, his flaxen hairs creating a mind-numbing friction on your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his body tensing under yours as he took pleasure from your own. “Use me however you need.”

The roughness of his voice almost made you shiver, his offer to take whatever you needed from him to feel as good as possible making a cool heat shoot down your spine, and you sat up straighter, driving down hard against him while providing him a view of your body, his hands cupping your tits and plucking at your peaked nipples.

“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous,” he praised, his words making you tip your head back and increase your pace, hearing him grunt and moan with how good you were making him feel turning you on even more.

“Mmm, Will, I’m close,” you warned, your breathing ragged and your caution a whine.

“Come on, I want to feel you come on me.”

Your eyes were closed tightly as you focused on chasing down your high, and Will found it impossible for you to look more stunning now than you always did, your parted lips spilling moans while your body rocked and bounced on his.

“I want you– fuck! – I want you to cum in me, Will!”

“Yeah? I’m right there too, baby,” he growled, bucking up into you to prove it as he gave up on trying to hold back.

“God, I love you,” he called, completely enamoured by you.

“I love you too, Will,” you answered, your nails digging into his chest, feeling yourself start to come apart on his thick cock.

Will felt overcome by every emotion, and the thought of putting a ring on your finger sent him through the roof, pulsing hot ropes into you the moment he felt you start to clench around him.

He kept his eyes open to see you experience your orgasm despite wanting to close his own from how amazing it all felt, desperate to watch you fall into bliss and never able to get over the fact that he was the one buried inside you while you did.

Your fingertips gripped in the flesh on his heaving chest as you settled from your high, your eyes opening to meet with his, but you continued to rock your hips against his groin as you selfishly indulged in his warm, thick cum lubricating your tingling walls, and suddenly you were thrown into another climax.

Will held onto your waist tightly, forcing you to stay on his cock and take what you needed from him despite him having finished already, watching you with complete captivation as you quaked and jolted uncontrollably on top of him.

“Good girl,” he grunted, panting out his breath as he tried to hang on for you.

Your broken wails filled the air, combining with the addicting sound of the mix of wet between your legs, and fully exhausted from pleasure, you collapsed forward onto him in a heap, your breath hot on the sweaty skin on his neck.

Will stroked your hair and back, soothing you as you came back to reality while he remained on cloud nine, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

You whined against his neck as he slipped out of you, and he continued to caress you and keep you close to him, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“Hey, you’re alright, sweetheart. You did so well.”

His hand cradled the side of your face when you uprighted yourself, stroking his thumb on your dewy cheek, his smile soft as he took in your almost delirious look.

“Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up?” he offered, reluctantly letting you go as you nodded in agreement and removed yourself from straddling his lap.

Will laid there for a minute, watching you retreat into the ensuite bathroom before quietly moving off the bed to reach for his jeans, checking over his shoulder to be sure you hadn’t come back in yet as he grabbed the small box from his pocket and plucked out the dainty ring.

He closed it in his hand as he settled back into the sheets, his breath shaky as he stared up at the ceiling and tried his best not to smile too big.

You came back in and climbed into the bed with a bright smile that made his heart scream in his chest and met it with the broadest one of his own, relieved he didn’t have to try to disguise it now.

“Hmm, that was incredible, baby,” you praised, your words coming off your tongue like you were still reliving every moment of it, hovering over him before leaning down to kiss his lips.

He moaned into your mouth, his hand that wasn’t secured around the secret token he held rubbing up along your back, pulling you closer to him as he deepened your kiss and felt you melt into him.

You let your body lay completely on his, your tongues tangling together as if you were making up for the lack of kisses when you had rode him, and the small yelp you gave when he flipped you over onto your back and covered you with his weight was absorbed into his mouth that stayed locked on yours.

A deep breath filled his lungs and transferred into yours, inhaling your scent and everything about you as he nudged your left arm that was wrapped around his neck with his, gently forcing it onto the mattress where he trailed the back of his closed fist up the inside of your arm until he reached your palm.

Your fingers were extended and relaxed, toying with the sheets as your focus remained on your kiss, and carefully, Will adjusted his fingers until he had a grip on the band and slowly slipped it onto your ring finger.

He could feel your features move against his face as you tried to work out what was happening, and finally letting your lips part from each other, Will looked down at you to watch your reaction as you moved your hand that was still held in his into your view.

A shuddered breath escaped your parted lips and your eyes glistened with tears, and Will’s heart felt like it was either going to stop or jump right out of his chest when you looked from the sparkling ring on your trembling hand over to him, and somehow, he found his words.

“I want you to be my wife,” he spoke carefully and purposefully, his eyes locked on yours.

Your expression turned serious, and Will could see your pulse hammering violently in the side of your neck and swore he could hear your heart thumping like mad.

“You do?” you breathed, your fingers dancing with his, accentuating the feeling of the foreign piece encircling your skin.

“I do.”

Those two words made the corner of his mouth turn up in an astonished smile as the realization of actually saying it to each other one day soon hit him; what had seemed unimaginable that you could be his forever suddenly plausible and more real than anything.

In his next breath, he steadied his emotions, readying himself to legitimize the moment by officially asking the question he had rehearsed in his head over and over, his fingers closing between yours where he held your hand tightly.

“Will you marry me?”

You nodded quickly, tears springing from your eyes furiously as a sob that mixed with a laugh blew past your lips.

“Yes, Will!”

He squeezed your hand three times and crashed against your lips as you returned the silent gesture, feeling the most incredible sense of relief and peace flowing through him, the love he had for you incomparable to anything else that existed and something he would spend the rest of his life proving to you.

Within two days you and Will had decided exactly what you wanted for your wedding day, and without wasting any more time in knowing that you wanted to be made husband and wife as soon as you could, you were hosting an engagement party in your backyard to celebrate with friends and family before the set day that was now less than a week away.

“I still can’t believe I’m not invited,” Benny scoffed, his blatant disapproval for your decision to elope making Will laugh and shake his head.

“Sorry, man. It’s not like you’re the only one who won’t be there. We just want something quiet,” Will explained for the third time to his brother.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he said with attitude before taking a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re doing this,” Will offered, motioning to the party happening around them.

“Yeah, I’m sincerely shocked you didn’t just up and leave without a word to anyone,” he said pointedly. “Selfish prick,” he added under his breath, earning him a hard shove on the shoulder.

“Fuck off, man,” Will laughed. “Maybe you’ll understand it one day.” He motioned over to where Jess was standing talking to you and the other girls, hoping that Benny had found his forever just like he had.

“No way. We will have everyone we love there. Hundreds of people. Maybe even our kids!”

Will raised his brows in surprise. “Is that so?”

“Damn right,” Benny confirmed, staring at Jess with a look in his eyes that explained everything anyone would ever need to know about their blooming relationship. “I want her to have my babies right away.”

“Well I’m looking forward to being an uncle very much,” Will grinned, draping his arm over Benny’s shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“Well, boys, it wouldn’t be a proper celebration without some cigars, now would it?” Santiago announced after walking over to them, lifting the lid open on a box that contained what Will knew had to be some pricey cigars.

“Frank! Tom, get over here!” he called, handing each of his Delta Force brothers one.

“We gotta get a picture of this!” Tom exclaimed in a loud muffle as he already had his stuck between his teeth, wrapping his arms around both Millers that he wedged himself between.

Molly was right there and ready with her phone to snap a photo, the five of them standing with their arms around each other with their lit cigars hanging from their mouths, the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Say cheese!”

The night had been even more wonderful than you had imagined it would be; the love and joy in the air infectious and making you wonder even more if this was all real, still finding yourself caught off-guard whenever you moved your fingers on your left hand and felt something you weren’t yet accustomed to and catching yourself mesmerized with how the ring looked on your hand.

Half of the people you invited had no idea of your engagement, simply inviting them over for a casual get-together, so being able to hold up your hand to show off your gorgeous ring and see their shocked reaction was half the fun, and witnessing how happy and excited everyone was for you and Will made your heart feel like it would burst.

It made you question if your choice to elope was the right thing to do, but as the night came to a close and it was just you and Will left on your own, you knew it was everything you wanted.

You had just finished the last of the cleanup, thankfully with the help of Frankie and a couple of others who refused to leave you and Will to do it all on your own, and were standing in the middle of the yard looking up at the indigo sky littered with stars after you had turned all but one of the outside lights off.

Will’s soft, but sure footsteps in the grass could be heard coming up behind you, and you smiled when his arm slipped around you, holding you close to him with his hand splayed out on your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder where he looked up to the same point in the sky that you were.

“Hmm, what a night,” you sighed, happily, turning in his arms to face him.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, looking down at you lovingly with his hands resting on your hips.

You nodded as your grin stretched across your lips. “So much fun. It was perfect.”

You craned your neck and pecked a kiss on his lips and it took everything in you to pull away, choosing to satisfy your need to keep touching them by tracing your fingertip along the crease beside his mouth and then across the bow of his upper lip.

“What about you? What did you think?”

Will pursed his lips as he thought. “Well, I always have a good time when I’m with you,” he beamed, smirking crookedly at you. “But it solidifies that as much as I love being around our friends and family, I really want this to just be between us.”

“Good, because I feel the same,” you confirmed, feeling him relax after hearing your mutual views shared again despite knowing it was what you both wanted.

He was quiet, and in the moonlight you could see something hinting in his icy eyes.

“What else are you thinking, Miller?”

“How beautiful you look tonight. That dress…”

He growled as he bit his lip, angling his hips into you with implication, his hands tightening their grip on you to make you squirm and giggle.

You had found the little, white dress online and ordered it the moment you laid eyes on it, knowing Will would lose his mind over it, the bit of sweet with the large bow at the small of your back mixed with how sexy it was with the low neckline and short hem a lethal combination.

“Yeah? And what would you like to do to me in this dress?”

Your head tilted innocently to the side as you peered up at him through your lashes, your hands splaying over his broad chest that radiated so much warmth in contrast to the night air that had cooled significantly in the absence of the sun.

Will let out a low growl as his hands began to gather the skirt of your dress, lifting it up to access the white, lacy thong you had on beneath it, ripping them down your hips roughly.

“Let me show you, sweetheart.”

A deranged giggle fueled by lust and anticipation came out of your mouth as you leaned back against Will’s arm that was wrapped around your middle, letting your body hang loosely for him to do whatever he wanted with, and he smirked at your submission as he let his other hand slide between your legs to fondle your bare sex.

His fingers parted your lips, finding you already wet for him and spread your slick up to your clit and then back to your waiting hole, the action eliciting a long moan from you.

“Fuck, Will…” you breathed, gripping his shoulder tight to support you more. “Here?” you asked, grinding yourself on his hand even with questioning getting fucked in the semi-privacy of your own backyard.

He nodded, looking at you smugly. “Yeah,” he answered, nonchalantly and extremely cocky. “I’ve fucked you in far riskier places.”

You hummed a laugh as you let your eyes close, relishing in his touch rather than worrying if any neighbours would be up and out at this time of night anyway, and realizing they’d probably heard and seen you at least once or twice was a severe understatement.

His index finger slid inside you and then he added his middle one, filling you and stretching you with each stroke in and out, his breathing growing ragged that told of his faltering ability to resist fucking you right away whether you wanted him to wait or not.

You let your hand that was resting on his forearm sink down to the bulge in his shorts, taking hold of his hard cock through the material where you began to gently stroke it in languid motions.

His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot on your lips as he started to finger you faster and harder, your touch driving him wild.

“Do you remember the first time I fucked you?” he asked, his voice gruff from the cigar you watched him smoke earlier, pulling out a smile on your lips.

“Mmm, how could I ever forget?”

“I couldn't stop myself, and I still can't. You make me lose all control…take over every part of me that fights for some fraction of restraint…” He kissed your lips, claiming and wanting, his fingers hooking inside you to stroke your g-spot and make you jolt into him, your grip tightening on his cock.

Moving along your jawline, he ground his body against yours, getting as close to each other as possible as you both worked each other with your hands, his mouth smearing over to your neck.

“And fuck do I ever love you for it,” he growled, the tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine that only increased when his teeth nipped at your pulse that hammered in your neck.

“You were just a slut taking my cock in the change room, and now you're gonna be my wife…” he uttered, his voice trembling with lust and excitement, the words vibrating against your sensitive skin.

You released your hold on his straining dick and pulled at his shirt, forcing him to abandon your cunt as you lifted it quickly over his head, a steely gaze shared between you before crashing against each other’s lips again.

The skin on his chest was impossibly warm to your palms as you smoothed them over his thick pecs, moaning into him as he teased your clit with the pads of his fingers that were wet from you, the band of your ring twisting as you slid your hand up to hold the side of his neck.

He peeled his mouth away from yours again, hovering against your lips as he spoke with a hoarseness in his tone. “You want it rough, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you whined, nodding your head as your other hand returned to his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours again as he undid the button and zipper on his shorts and pulled them down his legs. “My wife…”

You gasped at both the sound of him calling you his wife and from him turning you around so quickly you didn’t even have a chance to react, his hands clawing at your hips to pull them back against his groin where you were given no other choice but to take his cock.

He dragged it between your folds only once before slamming it in, one of his hands fisting your hair to angle your head back, the arch of your body accentuating where the pretty bow on your dress sat at the dip of your lower back.

Something between a laugh and a surprised noise came from you, already satisfied by him keeping his word to fuck you roughly, your hands carding down your own bare thighs sensually until they landed on your knees to support the back blows you were about to receive.

Will didn’t fuck around, already hammering against your ass quickly with sharp enough thrusts they almost stung your cheeks, the sensation of his full balls swinging forward to knock your clit sending you into a frenzy.

“Fuck that pussy is so good, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, his breaths coming out heavy and laboured as he worked hard at ruining you.

His grip tightened slightly on your hair as he let go of your hips with the other, bringing it around to hold the front of your neck, his palm resting on your windpipe while his fingers squeezed the sides of your column gently.

You whined as a shiver shot down your spine, feeling dizzy and overcome by so much pleasure, and unable to resist adding even more to the combination, you reached one of your hands between your legs and started rubbing your swollen clit harshly.

“Good girl, you’re gonna come hard on my cock aren’t you?” he asked with a trace of amusement in his voice, and you knew what kind of feral look would be in his eyes if you could see them.

Your body responded to his question, jolting as ecstasy took over control of your nervous system, everything acting on its own accord in an uncontrolled way thanks to the intense actions of the man behind you.

You squeezed his cock in gripping pulses, tightening around him like a vice until you heard his grunts grow louder, the sound music to your ears.

“God damn!” he howled, increasing his pace to something almost barbaric, and goosebumps erupted on your skin at the thrill of it.

Will let his hand that was around your neck slip down your chest, roughly pawing at the low neckline of your dress until your tits spilled out, his fingers squeezing the fleshy curve of one of them as they shook to his movements.

Your moans and cries were growing louder as each second passed, and suddenly aware that any of your neighbours could hear you clear as day, you did your best to stifle them, but Will was quick to correct you.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I wanna hear you scream.”

“Fuck!” you bellowed, instantly complying as he pounded into you even harder, and after a couple more sharp blows, you had no way of holding back anymore.

Your orgasm tore through you, your body tensing and stilling in meeting his movements leaving him to fuck you through your paralyzing high, your euphoric screams filling the quiet, night air.

Incoherent strings of praise spilled from your open mouth as you came back down to earth, hearing his satisfied chuckle sound in your ears that he’d made you cause such a scene.

“God, Will, fill me up. Please!” you begged, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts again.

“Yeah, you’re gonna get that load, baby…” he hissed. “...fill up that fucking cunt.”

You gasped as he somehow managed to increase his pace again, relentless in his pursuit of fucking you until you were dripping with his cum, his wild grunts telling you he had lost any ways of holding back.

He started to release inside you, but still slammed his cock in and almost all the way out of you as he came, his hot, thick load getting everywhere from deep in your cervix to all over your tingling lips that were stretched out on his girth.

Will stumbled slightly as he finally finished, his stamina faltering and his legs slightly shaking from his efforts, a deranged laugh decorating his words.

“I fucking love you, sweetheart,” he claimed, joyfully.

He grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks without care as he turned your face toward him, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, the sweat that clung to his beard transferring onto your lips.

Will righted himself after stealing your breath, pulling out of you unceremoniously where you moaned from the loss of his fullness inside you, feeling his cum leaking out and starting to trail down your inner thigh.

You stood and smoothed your hair back, turning to face your future husband who looked more gorgeous than ever, his body slick with a generous layer of sweat that glowed in the silvery moonlight.

He smiled crookedly at you, a lazy, sated look on his perfect features as his chest heaved while he still struggled for breath, his eyes gleaming even more of a vibrant blue, looking like some sort of god in front of you that had you dumbstruck.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am that I get to be fucked by you for the rest of my life,” you uttered, your honest thoughts falling off your tongue in your blissful haze.

Will chuckled and held your waist, nodding in agreement.

“Damn right, sweetheart.”

Your smile was covered by his mouth, his kiss claiming and radiating a happiness through you that had become so frequent recently, breathing him in deeply as you swept your hands up his slippery chest and reminded yourself once again that you had all of this to look forward to every day.

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@daryldixonpls @christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

[tofuxtea]

𝐕𝐈 | oral + risky sex

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — vi x fem!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, oral sex (f!reader receiving), risky sex, in the bathroom, mentions of drûg dealing (reader is a dealer), fighter!vi, make-up sex, angst if you squint lol, slight exhibitionism (?) reader has to be quiet, think that’s it

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — im in love with vi. i need her bad, so this came to be. not proofread, minors DNI!

the arena was packed for a tuesday night. it made you nervous, pulling your hood tight over your lowered head while you shuffled through the dense crowd.

seemed like everyone in the undercity had gathered to watch tonight’s fight. it was suffocating. voices and unwanted touches coming from every direction, you remembered why you never came to these things.

hell, the only reason why you even bothered to show up had yet to make an appearance. it took you nearly an hour to find her and by then over half of the crowd had gone and left.

she was sat at the bar counter by her lonesome in the corner, cradling a glass of something amber-colored. her face and biceps were decorated with blossoming bruises and dried blood, though most of that stained her bandaged knuckles.

a few bar goers patted her on the shoulder as they left, congratulating her on her victory.

but she paid them little mind. she kept lifting her head to scan the few people slipping through the door until she finally spotted you.

despite your face being shielded, vi could always recognize you. being so good at blending into crowds, she was one of the few people able to do that.

she waited until you were sat next to her before speaking, her voice kept low. “i didn’t think you’d come. thought i’d have to go to yours.” the rasp in her voice was thicker. she probably took a few hits to the throat this time.

you watched the front of it bob as she downed the rest of her drink with only a tiny wince. silence followed for a while, and it was palpable.

“how much do you want?” you asked almost exasperatedly. neither of you were particularly fond of small talk and you didn’t plan on starting now.

a twinge of hurt flashed in vi’s glossy eyes when she turned to look at you. “is that how you’re gonna be?” she scoffed under her breath. “i thought we were past it.”

you gulped at the implication, your eyes instinctively shifting around to see if anyone was listening. it wasn’t that you were ashamed of your history with vi, far from it. you just couldn’t risk word getting out that you accepted any other forms of payment for what you dealt.

vi was the only exception. it started a few months ago when she found you after a fight, banged up and desperate for something to take the edge off. everybody knew that you sold a few minor drugs — it was no shimmer, but you had your ways — and she wanted some.

it was so cliche. she wanted drugs, but she had no money. it didn’t help that she kept eyeing your lips and that she was just so enticing. next thing you knew, her head was in between your legs and you had your hand clamped over your mouth to keep from a noise complaint.

that was how things went for months until you decided to end it. she was beginning to grow on you a bit too much and too quickly. it worried you because you knew she didn’t feel the same way. you were only a means to an end to her.

today was the first time she spoke to you in over a week. the small talk was unnerving.

your jaw clenched, but briefly. “i’m not being any way. how much do you want?”

vi’s eyes narrowed. “how much do you have?”

you blinked, knowing she was just trying to be an asshole. she always got the same thing. and you pulled it from your coat pocket and plopped it in front of her.

vi licked her lips as she examined it, but she didn’t reach for it yet. “that’ll do.” she murmured. but then her posture stiffened slightly, like something was caught in her throat. “but i don’t have anything left for it.”

it was your turn to snap this time. “what do you mean? i thought they pay you for winning fights.”

“you watched the fight?” she turned her head a fraction. the corners of her lips lifted slightly.

“no, but have you ever lost?” for some reason, you felt guilty about the reply. how cold it sounded.

her little smile dropped as quickly as it formed. you huffed, finding the situation uncomfortably tense. you reached for the bag in front of her folded arms and started to pull it back towards yourself.

“look, i don’t know why you called me down here if you—”

“come on, baby,” her hand quickly grasped your wrist. the way the nickname rolled off of her tongue made your brain momentarily halt. suddenly it was hot and your jacket was far too heavy. “i need it.”

you wanted to question exactly what it meant: you, the drugs, or the sex. but you found you were working in autopilot when you pocketed the weed and told her to follow you.

—

the bathroom was tiny with only a sink and a singular narrow stall, and was covered from top to bottom in colorful graffiti, but it made do. vi had you pinned against the door, one wrapped hand resting on the curve of your hip and the other twisting the lock shut.

you’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to be in this position. how tiny you felt under her dark eyes, how much bigger her frame was compared to yours. how badly you wanted to kiss her.

“is this the last time again?” she asked lowly.

you could only scoff. “shut up and show me how bad you need it.”

vi didn’t hesitate. the force of her lips against yours drew a groan from your chest and your knees wobbled, forcing you to grab her thick arms. like a moth to a flame, you found yourself melting into her.

her fingers dug into your hip and she pulled away only to say, “fuckin’ christ, you still got it.” you could feel the rumble of her voice in her chest when she pressed her body against yours. her hands slipped underneath your shirt, strong and calloused fingertips bringing goosebumps to your skin.

you moaned when her palms found your tits, lifting your top up. “fuck, vi,” you whined, head tilting back against the door. the redhead’s lips found your throat, pressing eager kisses from your jaw to your collar.

vi pushed your jacket off, not caring how it fell onto the bathroom floor in a heap, and then peeled your shirt off. as much as you protested, suddenly feeling too bare for where you were, it was all drowned out the moment vi’s fingers laced into your hair and pulled your head back to give her better access to your throat.

the motion alone made your head spin and a pitchy cry tore from your throat. vi pulled away with a cocky smirk. “you’re gonna have everyone knowin’ what we’re doin’ in here.” she mumbled before dragging you away from the door.

she propped you up against the sink, taking a moment to take in your breathless demeanor. then she was back on top of you. her hips pressed against yours, eventually easing you onto the sink’s cold edge and slotting in between your thighs.

one of her hands began toying with your breast, rolling your hardened nipple between her fingers. she liked the way your body arched into her touch, testing the limits a little further by sliding her other hand down to your thigh.

you whined, trying your best to keep your voice down. “vi, please.”

her eyebrows furrowed with faux confusion. “please what?” she asked. but her desperation was getting the better of her and she was already moving to unbutton your pants.

the brief glare you gave her only lasted a second when vi pressed the top of her thigh against your core. “don’t fuck with me if you’re serious about that weed, red.” you said through gritted teeth. “please fuck me.”

“yes ma’am.” her voice bounced playfully but she complied without hesitation. she yanked your jeans and panties down to your ankles in one swift movement, lowering herself to her knees.

she pressed gentle kisses to your stomach while her fingers toyed with your pussy. “you’re so wet already.” she mumbled against your skin. your head fell back out of slight embarrassment when vi snapped, “eyes on me.”

she waited until your glassy eyes were back on hers before sliding a finger inside of you, humming at the way your mouth fell open in a loud moan. “that’s it.” vi whispered. she didn’t wait for you to adjust before slipping a second digit in.

your hips bucked against her hand and your legs tightened around her shoulders. “oh god, vi,” the back of your hand pressed to your mouth to keep your whines in when her thumb found your clit.

over time, she got to know what made you really tick. and being the asshole she was, she never failed to use that to her advantage. so when she curled her two fingers up into that sensitive spongy part inside of you that forced a cry from your throat, she was quick to scold you. “baby,” she taunted, “didn’t i tell you to keep it down?”

vi was never one for warnings. before you could fully recover and tell her to bite you, she ducked her head between your thighs and ran her tongue up your slick folds. you choked on a moan and laced your fingers into her hair. instinctively, you tugged on her locks, guiding her to where you needed her most.

a deep groan rumbled in her throat and the vibrations made your hips roll into her face. her blue eyes found yours and they screamed at you not to stop. she always liked when you told her what you wanted.

she hoisted your leg onto her shoulder and continued on, her tongue diving into you. “fu-fuck, feels so good,” was all you could manage.

with the arm tucked underneath your leg, she reached up and splayed her hand against your ribs, her fingers digging harshly into your flesh. you didn’t mind the pain from her strength. rather, you welcomed it with a muffled whine.

you balanced yourself against the bathroom mirror behind you when your body started to go numb. a sign that your orgasm was coming. and quickly. “vi,” you called out to her. “vi, don’t stop.”

she shifted upwards to wrap her lips around your clit, relishing in the way your sensitive body writhed against her. your hand weakly grabbed at her disheveled hair while tears pricked at your eyes. by then you no longer cared about how loud you were, her name echoing off of the bathroom walls.

you two were bound to get kicked out any moment. so she hurried and slipped two fingers back into your dripping cunt, working up to a relentless pace.

“fuck, vi,” your voice cracked and trembled, “‘m so close, please don’t stop!” your body arched into her touch, aiding you through that all too familiar wave that crashed into you.

it took you a few seconds to remember where you were, the solid coldness of the porcelain sink you sat upon finally beginning to set in. the faucet dug into your back and left it sore when you shakily got to your feet. vi helped steady you, still knelt on the floor while she held your hips.

her mouth glistened provocatively and she swiped at it with her wrapped hands. she grabbed your jacket and shirt from off the floor, searching both of them until she found that small bag of weed she was after to begin with.

she only tossed your jacket back to you once your pants were up and buttoned. “i was wondering where this shirt went.” she commented with a half smile. “i know you said we couldn’t do this anymore because it felt too transactional, but…” she trailed off, averting her eyes from your curious gaze, “maybe it doesn’t have to be. you know where i am, princess.”

she tossed the nickname at you sarcastically before sliding out of the door, leaving you with your scattered thoughts.

#needthat highkey. dont know if this is slightly ooc or not because i am an avid caitvi shipper but yeah. i love buff masc women.

[buckyispunk]

Ocean Blue

Aloha Chapter Two ~ Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (no use of Y/N)

read Aloha part one here!!

masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: After a great day of playing football with Bucky and his friends, he plans an excursion for you. However, Bucky might not be as perfect as he seems.

A/N: thank you to everyone who liked, commented on, or reblogged chapter one! I was so so so thrilled with how well the first part did and I'm glad you all enjoyed it!

Warnings: facefucking, exhibitionism (dressing room shenanigans), brief fingering, discussion of unhealthy relationships, mention of cheating, bit of a praise kink, orgasm denial, come eating, dom!Bucky and his filthy mouth, drinking, insecure reader, self-deprecating thoughts, please lmk if I missed anything

Word Count: 8.6k

You feel the heat from the sun’s rays shining on you through the windows before you even open your eyes. You also feel a solid mass under your chest and it isn’t until you open your eyes that you remember the previous night. Bucky is underneath you - still sleeping if his soft snores are anything to go by. You feel your lips turn up into a smile as memories of last night play through your mind. 

His arm is draped over your body, securing you to him. You try to gently pull his arm off you so you can get up, but his bicep flexes as he subconsciously pulls you in closer. As much as you’d like to stay here cuddled up with Bucky all morning, you have to pee. You nuzzle into his chest and begin to pepper kisses across his toned pecs. 

Bucky rustles above you and you hear a soft hum as he wakes.

“Mornin, doll,” he keeps you close to his chest with one arm and raises his other to run through his hair.

You turn to look up at him and he leans down to press his lips to your forehead.

“How’d you sleep?” his morning voice is deep and gravelly. 

“Really good. You?” you hold back a giggle at his tousled hair.

“Amazing, hon.”

“Glad to hear it, Buck. Hate to ruin the moment, but you have to let me up so I can pee.”

“Says who?” he uses both arms to hug you tighter into his chest.

You gently slap his bulging arms and squeal, “Bucky! Let me up!”

Bucky scrunches his face up as if in thought. “Fine, but it’ll cost you. One kiss.”

“Ew, I have morning breath.”

“Don’t care, doll,” he guides your face to his and leans in to take his payment. 

After a couple of seconds, he releases you from his grasp. It isn’t until you’re about to pull the covers off of you that you realize you’re naked. Sure, he saw everything last night, but it’s different in the light of day when you don’t have any alcohol in your system. 

“Um,” your cheeks heat as you sit on the edge of the bed, covers pulled tight around your body, “could you, uh, look away for a minute?”

“Doll, you’re beautiful and you don’t have anything to be ashamed of. But if it’ll make you more comfortable then of course I will.”

He rolls over onto his stomach and presses his face into his pillow. You lean over and plant a kiss on his shoulder blade before jumping up and running to the bathroom. You go pee and brush your teeth before grabbing one of soft bathrobes with the resorts logo on the breast and tying it around your waist. When you open the bathroom door, Bucky is standing, pulling on his boxers. 

“Would you wanna go get breakfast with me?” he asks, adjusting the elastic of his underwear.

“That sounds great.” 

Bucky smiles and gathers his clothes from the floor, blush forming across his face as he does so. With an armful of clothes, he turns to look at you.

“I just want you to know, I don’t usually do that. Sleep with girls I just met- I mean. I mean, yeah I’ve done it before,” he begins to ramble, “but like, not often. I just felt like there was something between us and you were just so gorgeous last night, you’re still gorgeous. Shit, I’m so-”

You cut him off with a hand on his bare shoulder before he gets any farther.

“Bucky, it’s okay. I understand what you mean. I don’t normally do stuff like this either.”

“Well, I’m gonna go to my room to put on some different clothes. I’ll come back in a couple of minutes and we can go downstairs?” he starts to pull on his dress pants from last night. He pulls the wrinkled button up over his shoulders, not bothering with the buttons. 

He holds his shoes and belt in one hand as he makes for the door. He opens the door and steps out. You follow him, standing in the doorway. Before you have a chance to say goodbye, you hear a familiar voice coming from over Bucky’s shoulder.

“Nice clothes, Buck!” Sam is walking down the hallway toward the two of you, Steve beside him. “We didn’t hear you come back to your room last night,” Sam continues his teasing.

Bucky lets out an exasperated sigh before turning to face his friends. You’re mortified that they’ve caught you. But at the same time, you want to laugh at the murderous look on Bucky’s face.

“Not another word, Sam,” he goes to hold up his hand, as if in warning, before remembering that his belt is dangling from his fingers, and quickly lowers it, trying too late to hide further evidence.

Sam doubles over laughing, meanwhile Steve stands still as a statue, eyes trained on the ground. He looks almost as embarrassed as you do.

“We were just headed downstairs,” the blond explains.

“Sorry, Barnes,” Sam says your name and nods at you, “I’ll leave you to continue your walk of shame,” he lets out another roaring laugh, slapping Bucky on the shoulder before continuing down the hallway, Steve in tow.

The blond looks up to give you a sheepish smile, “I’m sorry,” he mouths an apology to you.

Once his friends are gone, Bucky turns to you. “I swear to god, I’ll kill him if you want me to,” he says with a straight face.

You laugh at him, “It’s fine, Bucky. He’s just being funny.”

Bucky gives you a thankful smile and leans down and pecks your lips before making his way to his room.

“I’ll be back in a couple minutes!” he calls to you.

When Bucky knocks on your room door exactly two minutes later, you’re running a brush through your hair. You had thrown on a pair of shorts and a tank top.

“Just a second!” you call out.

You grab your things and slip a pair of flip flops on before opening the door. Bucky apologizes again for Sam’s bevahior and you tell him not to worry - you enjoy the lighthearted fun. You grab plates and get in line for the buffet.

Bucky piles his plate with so much food that you’re worried it’s about to start falling off. He reaches for the tongs to add bacon to his stack of food.

“There is no way you can fit any more food on that plate,” you look at him in disbelief.

How is he planning on eating that much?

Bucky grins at you before taking the bacon from the tongs and sticking it directly into his mouth, giving you a smirk.

“That better, sweetheart?” he mumbles around a mouthful of food.

You roll your eyes at him and walk to the first empty table you see. Bucky follows behind a minute later with his plate and two cups of orange juice, you’re mildly impressed at his ability to carry it all without spilling anything - like you surely would’ve. But then again, his hand dwarfs the cups of juice, so you suppose that helps. He sits down across from you and sets one of the plastic cups in front of you.

“Thank you,” you tell him after swallowing your bite of food.

“‘Course, doll,” he answers around a mouthful of toast.

You figure it’s just your luck when Brock and Marissa walk into the dining room. Did they eat breakfast at the same time as you every day? You let out a sigh, hoping they don’t see you. You really don’t feel like explaining who Bucky is, Hi, Brock! This is the guy I just met who called me “his girl” when I slept with him last night, isn’t he great?

Bucky turns to follow your eyeline, landing on the couple.

“Is that…” he trails off.

“Yep. Brock and Marissa.”

He looks down and nods, dejected look on his face, “I can leave, if you want,” he offers. “I mean if you don’t want them to see you with me.” How is it that you just met this man, yet it appears he can read your mind?

You would never do that to Bucky, though. He didn’t deserve that. So what if Brock found out? You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. You’re a grown woman. You’re single and you decided to have some fun with a man who’s interested in you. It’s not like you’re the only person who’s ever had a one night stand - if that’s what you’d call this, anyway.

“Of course not, Bucky. I don’t care if they see us. Besides, you haven’t even started your cereal or your eggs.” This earns a grin from Bucky.

“Hey, you keep that up and you’re not getting any of my waffles,” he points his finger at you.

Brock and Marissa sit down. You try not to watch them - you really do. But they’re sat right in your line of sight and it makes it hard. Brock eats with one hand and scrolls through his phone with the other. Marissa does the same. 

Bucky notices you watching them and turns to look. Marissa says something to which Brock just gives a noncommittal nod and continues scrolling. It’s no wonder he doesn’t see you with his face buried in his phone.

“Was he like that when you were with him?”

“Yeah. Especially toward the end. It was like he won me over at first by doing all this stuff for me and taking me out on dates. But then after a while he stopped doing all of that. I was lucky to have a conversation with him that lasted more than a couple of minutes.”

Bucky gives you a sad look. “I’m sorry doll. Glad you don’t have to put up with that anymore.” He mutters the next part under his breath so quietly you almost miss it, “Asshole didn’t deserve you.”

“What about you?” 

He looks confused and you realize your question had been rather vague.

“Have you ever had any serious relationships?” you clarify.

“Yeah,” he nods, “Last serious one ended just before I got out of the army. I was on a nine month deployment. The distance was hard. I called her as often as I could, had flowers sent to her. We’d been together for years. Turns out she was cheating on me while I was overseas. Said she was lonely because I wasn’t home. Needed something more, I guess,” he shrugs, “Thought she was the one. Had the ring picked out and everything.”

“Oh my gosh,” your face drops. How could someone do such a thing? He was away serving his country and she had cheated on him? He had even sent her flowers while he was gone - Brock had never once gotten you flowers. “I am so sorry, Bucky. That’s terrible.” You can tell his mood has declined from talking about it and you’re not sure how to console him. 

“Don’t worry about it, doll,” he gives you a forced smile. “Besides, it’s best that I found out when I did. I got all my money back for the ring,” he jokes, but his chuckle doesn’t meet his eyes.

You simply nod in agreement. You and Bucky finish eating in silence, reflecting on the heavy topics the two of you had discussed. Bucky downs the last of his orange juice and, as if nothing had happened, the grin is back on his face. 

“Wanna go to the beach? If you’re not sick of me yet, that is.”

“Don’t think I could ever get sick of you,” you chuckle before realizing what you had just let slip.

You’re not sure what exactly your feelings are for Bucky, but it’s clear that there was an instant connection between the two of you. And last night made it obvious that it’s not just a platonic connection. Regardless, you don’t think you should reveal your cards to Bucky just yet.

He doesn’t need to know that he hasn’t left your mind since you first laid eyes on him across the bar. He doesn’t need to know that he’s made you happier in two days than anyone has in years. He doesn’t need to know that you’re not sure you could go another day for the rest of your life without seeing his blinding smile. But it’s too early to be having these thoughts. So you quickly stand and clear the table before Bucky has a chance to respond. You head to the elevator without another word. Bucky follows you, confused smile on his face. 

Bucky leaves you in front of your room so that you can get changed and, for the second time today, he promises to be back in a couple of minutes. You change into your bikini and put your tanktop and shorts back on over it. It’s been about five minutes and Bucky still hasn’t come back to your room. You decide to take the time to pull out your phone and text Tess, your best friend back home, filling her in on everything that has happened with Bucky and his friends so far. 

After you’ve finished updating Tess, Bucky still hasn’t come back. You wonder for a moment if he had changed his mind. Maybe he didn’t want to hang out with you anymore and this was just his way of getting rid of you. You only let those thoughts cloud your mind briefly before you snap out of it and realize that that was unlikely. He hadn’t shown any indications of wanting to get rid of you - the beach had been his idea. You decide to go to Bucky’s room.

You pad down the hall in your flip flops and stop in front of Bucky’s door. You hesitate for a second before raising your hand and rapping your knuckles against the wood. You hear muffled curses coming from the other side of the door before it opens a second later. 

“Shit, doll, I’m so sorry,” Bucky answers the door. He’s still wearing his clothes from breakfast. He returns back into his room, leaving the door open for you to follow. “I can’t find my trunks anywhere.”

You step in and close the door behind you. His room is kind of a mess. There are piles of clothes scattered everywhere and you see why as he crouches down in front of his suitcase and begins throwing clothes out of it, desperately searching for his bathing suit. 

“Whoa, Buck, calm down,” you hold back a laugh at his overly-frustrated state. “It’s just a pair of swim trunks. Did you only bring one pair?” 

A visible heat creeps up Bucky’s cheeks, “Well I didn’t think I was gonna be in the water that much,” he explains. 

“There’s a store down in the lobby, I’m sure they have some if you want to buy another pair.”

Bucky sighs and stands up, giving up on his search. “I’m sorry doll. You can go to the beach now if you want and I can meet you there after I find a new pair.”

“It’s not like I need to spend the entire day at the beach Bucky, we still have plenty of time. Besides, I want to look around for souvenirs.”

“Okay, doll,” he gives you a grateful smile. 

The two of you make your way to the main floor, Bucky still obsessing over his trunks, I just don’t know where they could have gone.

Upon stepping into the resort’s store, you’re met with all sorts of fun souvenirs and brightly colored clothing. Bucky makes his way over to the swim wear section and you wander around, looking for gifts for your parents and Tess. You settle on a mini totem garden sculpture for your parents and a pretty bracelet for your best friend. 

“Hey, doll!” Bucky peeks his head out from behind a dressing room door.

You hadn’t even noticed he’d gone into a dressing room. You make your way over to the stall he’s occupying and raise an eyebrow. “Find a pair of trunks?”

“Wanna come in and see them?” he grins and opens the door for you, but keeps his body hidden behind it. 

“You need my help choosing a pair?” you sigh and step into the dressing room after setting down your gifts.

Bucky closes the door behind you and he’s shirtless, wearing only the pair of swim trunks he’s trying on. You drop your eyes to them and burst out laughing. The trunks say stop staring at my with a picture of a rooster underneath the words, directly over where his junk is. Bucky joins you in laughing. 

“You just had to take your shirt off too, didn’t you?” you tease. Not that you’re complaining about the sight in front of you.

“Well we need to get the full effect so we can tell whether or not we like them,” he justifies, grin never leaving his lips.

“You’re not seriously getting those, are you?”

“Nah. You could follow the advice on them, though.”

“Please, Barnes. Says you,” you remember the way he’d stared at your bikini-clad body yesterday. “Besides, are you telling me you don’t like it?”

You turn to leave the dressing room and are stopped by a hand on your arm. Bucky grabs you and pulls you into a kiss. You deepen the kiss and he begins rutting into you, feeling his bulge rub against you. You know there’s people outside the dressing room. Anyone could overhear you if you or Bucky get too loud. But you don’t care about any of that as you sink to your knees on the dressing room floor. In fact, maybe it spurs you on a little. 

Bucky stares down at you with wide eyes, jaw dropped. “Fuck, doll. What are you doing?”

You dip your fingers into the waistband of his boxers beneath the swim trunks, testing the waters. “Want to repay you for last night.”

“Doll, you don’t have to do that. Are you sure?”

You ever so slightly start to pull down the trunks along with his underwear and look up to him for permission before continuing. He gives you a nod, a look of awe spread across his face. You drag them all the way down and let them pool around his ankles before he steps out of them, leaving him fully nude in front of you. 

You’d seen him before, but not up this close. His tip is pink and leaking a drop of precum. He’s barely hard and you’re already wondering how you’ll be able to fit him all down your throat. 

“Stop staring at my cock, doll,” he says quietly as he stares down at you, smirk on his face.

He reaches a hand around to tangle in your hair and gently pulls you closer, dragging his length across your face. The feeling of his heady weight resting on your cheek sends a flood of arousal to your core.

You lick up his hardness until you reach the tip. You place a kiss on his slit, tongue darting out to lap up his precum. 

“I don’t like teasing, sweetheart,” Bucky gives you a warning look.

You take the head into your mouth and begin to lower yourself onto his cock. Bucky’s hand rests in your hair, letting you set your own pace. You begin bobbing up and down on his shaft, taking about half of him into your mouth with each descent. After a couple minutes of letting you control things, Bucky pulls your head off of him and leans down so he’s face to face with you. 

“If it gets to be too much, tap on my thigh two times. I want you to repeat it back to me if you understand.”

“Tap on your thigh twice to stop,” you meet his eyes. They look almost completely black, his pupils blown wide with lust.

He pulls you in for another kiss before rising to his full height. 

“Ready, doll?”

You’re not sure why the thought pops into your head, but you decide to try something out. “Yes, Sergeant.”

Bucky’s face turns to something resembling a scowl as his grip tightens on your hair and he drags you back onto his cock. He pushes you all the way down until you feel him hit the back of your throat. And then he forces himself in even farther. Your face is pressed against his lower abdomen, nose nestled into the dark patch of hair just above his cock. You breath in through your nose, which overflows your senses with his musk.

Bucky releases his hands from your hair, allowing you to take a breath. You gasp for air before reattaching your mouth to his cock, already missing the taste of him. He lets out a quiet groan and holds your head in place as he begins to thrust in and out of your mouth. He buries himself in the back of your throat and you gag around him. 

“Fuck, doll. Love feeling your throat close around me.”

He holds himself there for a few more seconds before giving you a reprieve. 

“Doing so good for me, hon.” He praises, just loud enough so that you can hear him, quiet enough that anyone outside the dressing room wouldn’t be able to. 

He continues using your throat to chase his high. He lets a quiet groan slip every so often, making your pussy clench around nothing each time. He picks up the pace, holding your head still and brutally jamming his length down your throat over and over. You lift a hand to his hairy thigh to brace yourself. 

“Feel so good. My pretty girl.”

You reach a hand into your panties to give your throbbing clit some attention. Bucky notices immediately and grabs your wrist, ripping your hand out of your shorts. 

“Bad girl. Did I say you could do that? Put both your hands behind your back now or you won’t be coming at all today.” He lodges himself into the back of your throat and holds there, cutting off your air flow until you follow his orders. 

You do as he instructed and clasp your hands behind your back.

He pulls out of your throat and looks down at you, expression softening. “You can still tap out if you need to, doll.”

You’re not sure what makes you respond the way you do, but you’re quick to regret it. “Please, you think this is rough?” sarcasm drips from your wrecked voice.

Your response brings the scowl back to Bucky’s face and the hold he takes on your hair makes your scalp sting in the best way. 

“Fuckin’ brat.” He uses your hair to drag you up and down his length, not stopping to give you a break.

He’s focused solely on chasing his own high, enjoying the way you gag around him. When tears begin to run down your face, he swipes them away with his thumb.

“You asked for it, pretty girl,” he gives you a mock look of sympathy, not letting up. “Fuck, I’m getting close. You’re such a dirty little slut letting me fuck your face like this. What if someone overheard us right now?”

Your moan is muffled around his cock, the vibrations making him grit his teeth in pleasure.

“You like that, doll? Want everyone to know what a little slut you are for me? Want them to see you on your knees for me?”

You do your best to nod with his rock-hard length in your mouth. He gives a few more deep thrusts and you feel his tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly before he uses your hair to yank you off of him.

“Can I come down your throat, doll? Pump your stomach full of me?”

“Please, Buck,” you manage in a hoarse voice.

Bucky groans and forces himself as far down your throat as he can possibly get and holds there, both of his hands keeping your head in place. You unclasp your hands behind your back and bring one up to massage his balls, sending him over the edge. Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and does his best to stay quiet as he shoots rope after rope of his seed down your throat. You feel his warm come trickle down your throat and begin to choke on it. He keeps you in place until his orgasm subsides.

He finally lets you go and you pull off of his length, sputtering and gasping for breath. Bucky kneels down in front of you and holds you to him, calming you. He runs a hand up and down your back and smooths your hair. Once you’ve caught your breath, you lean in for a kiss, which he gladly returns, groaning into your mouth when he gets the briefest taste of himself on your lips.

“You did so fucking good for me, doll,” he whispers into your ear. “Made me feel so good.” He reaches a hand down and slips it into your panties, instantly being met with your wetness. “Fuck, doll. You really liked that, huh?”

“Yes, Bucky. Made me so wet,” you buck your hips up into his touch, hoping he’ll make you come. “Please, Bucky,” you beg, “I was good for you, don’t I deserve a reward?”

“I’ll decide that for myself, doll. I’ll make you come if and when I want to,” he runs a finger through your slick and rubs a few circles over your clit. 

You were already on the brink of orgasming the entire time Bucky was in your mouth, and you’re sure that all you need is a couple more strokes of his calloused fingers to push you over the edge. You’re not surprised that Bucky seems to know this too when he pulls his hand out of your shorts.

“Be a good girl for the rest of the day and I’ll make it worth your while. Give you anything you want tonight, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you pout, although the way he used you to get himself off and left you desperate for release turns you on like nothing ever has before. 

He stands and helps you to your feet. He gets dressed while you use the mirror to fix your disheveled look. When the two of you look normal again, he opens the dressing room door. 

You’re glad to find that the store is almost empty and it appears that no one had heard anything. You pick up the gifts you had selected for your family and Tess and Bucky returns with a new pair of trunks. They’re a solid salmon-pink color.

“Whatcha got there?” he asks, nodding to the trinkets in your hand.

“Some gifts for my family back home. See you found a bathing suit.”

“Well, you didn’t like the last one, so…” he chuckles at you and the two of you make your way to the checkout.

Just before you reach the counter, Bucky calls your name. He’s stopped in front of a display of Hawaiian shirts.

“We should each get one!” the excited look on his face is too cute to deny, so you simply nod and agree. 

You pick one out and Bucky (coincidentally?) selects a matching men’s one. You set your stuff down on the counter and move to pull your wallet out of your bag before Bucky stops you and sets his own stuff down on top of yours. You’re about to argue that he’s not paying for all of your stuff, but he raises his eyebrows and shoots you a warning look.

Don’t you dare try and pull that again, he words from when you had bought dinner last night replay in your mind. You look down at your feet and blush. If it didn’t turn you on so much, you’d be embarrassed at how submissive this man makes you.

He grabs a bottle of water from the mini fridge next to the cashier and sets it on the counter. Bucky pays for everything and hands you the bottle of water while the cashier bags everything up. You’re thankful for the instantaneous soothing the cold water provides as it hits your raw throat. You turn to Bucky and smile, as if to thank him. He sets a hand on your waist and gives you an affectionate smile. 

Bucky takes the bags from the cashier and leads the two of you out of the gift shop.

“I have to go up and change into my trunks. I can set your stuff in your room for you while I’m up there, if you want,” he offers.

You dig your extra key card out of your bag and hand it to Bucky. He disappears behind the elevator doors. Just as you’re about to take a seat, you see Sam and Steve. They catch your eye and make their way over to you. 

Once you see them up close, you notice that Sam’s swim trunks are identical to the ones Bucky had been wearing yesterday.

“Are those Bucky’s swim trunks?” 

“I may have forgotten to pack my own. And Steve wouldn’t let me take his. Bucky wasn’t in his room last night, as I’m sure you know,” he finds his joke hilarious and lets out a laugh, “so I went into his room and took them,” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal. As if, by a chain reaction, it hadn’t led to you on your knees for Bucky in a public place just ten minutes ago. 

“Ew, Sam,” your face scrunches up in disgust, “That’s gross.”

“Don’t worry! I’m wearing underwear with them!” 

Steve chooses now to speak up, “As much as I’m sure she’d love to hear about your underwear, Sam,” he tells his friend sarcastically, “where is Bucky?” he turns to you.

“He went upstairs to change into the new trunks he just bought,” you eye Sam, “because he couldn’t find his.”

As if on cue, Bucky appears, wearing his new trunks and the Hawaiian t-shirt he just bought. You notice he’s also holding your new shirt.

“You asshole,” he furrows his brows at Sam, “Are those my trunks? That’s gross, man. I had those on yesterday.” 

“Don’t worry,” you interject, “he’s got underwear on.”

Bucky gives you a confused look, probably wondering how you know that, and you, Steve, and Sam laugh. 

Bucky returns his attention to Sam, “Give me back the key card to my room,” he holds out a hand expectantly.

“Told you, you never should’ve given it to him,” Steve says.

“Hey!” Sam turns on the blonde, “You helped me take all his towels!” He reaches into his - Bucky’s - pockets and hands over a key card.

“Punks,” Bucky mutters, grabbing his room key back.

“Do you guys wanna come to the beach with us?” you offer.

“We actually just left the beach,” Steve answers, “Thanks, though.”

“Good,” Bucky takes your hand and leads you away from his friends, “See you later!” Steve and Sam laugh as Bucky leads you away. 

“Were they bothering you?” he looks over at you.

“No, Bucky, you don’t have to worry so much. Sam made another comment about you not going back to your room last night, but it doesn’t bother me. I like them. I think they’re just trying to embarrass you in front of me.”

“You can say that again,” Bucky mutters. “Oh, hey,” he holds up the shirt you’d forgotten he was holding, “I just thought maybe, um,” you find it adorable that the man who was just fucking your face in a public place now seems so shy, “maybe you could wear your shirt too and we could match.”

“Aw,” you smile up at him and take the shirt, “sure, Buck.” You throw the shirt on over your white tank top. 

You grab two beach towels and stuff them in your bag before stepping out of the resort. You and Bucky make your way to the beach, fingers interlaced. When you pick out a good enough spot, you and Bucky lay out your beach towels and strip down to your swim suits. You make your way to the water’s edge. 

“You comin’ or what?” you throw over your shoulder with a smirk. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he gives you a mischievous grin, “Just enjoying the view.” His eyes flit down to your ass and you scoff.

You do your best to refrain from smiling as you give him a mock-offended look. He makes his way over to you and you splash him with ocean water when he gets close enough. He laughs for a minute but then his expression turns more serious.

“Remember what I said about being good today, doll?” he steps closer to you and leans down to whisper in your ear, water dripping from his hair. “If you wanna come, that is,” he pulls away, smirk upon his lips.

You blush and turn away. The refreshing salt water surrounds you and makes you feel as light as a feather. It’s as if each wave is chipping away at the weight on your shoulders.

You look at Bucky, who’s busy watching a ship in the distance. His blue eyes are the same color as the ocean. He’s got a slight smile on his face and you think that he looks as content as you’ve been feeling ever since you got here. The water comes up to his swim trunks, but leaves you an unblocked view of his abs and pecs. Water droplets run down his sculpted body and you’re suddenly ultra-aware of the fact that your core is in desperate need of attention. 

“Heads up!” you hear a familiar voice call out from behind you.

You turn and before you know what’s happening, Bucky is diving in front of you, landing in the water with a splash. He emerges holding a football. 

“Sam, watch out! You almost hit her!” he scolds his friend, who’s standing in the sand with Steve.

“I was aiming for you, if that makes it better,” he grimaces and apologizes to you.

“Hard to believe you were the best marksman in our troop,” Bucky scoffs and shakes his head.

“Get the ball!” Steve yells before rushing into the water, Sam following behind him.

Steve makes a beeline to Bucky, who starts running in the opposite direction. Bucky loses his footing in the waist-deep water and Steve catches up to him. The large blond dives at Bucky, arms outstretched, and tackles him into the water. Sam isn’t far behind and jumps on top of both of them. You hear curses and gasps for breath as they just about drown each other. You watch, laughing to yourself at the three idiots. 

Steve emerges from the pile, holding the football victoriously over his head. Bucky and Sam steady themselves, catching their breath. Your giggling is cut short when Steve tosses the ball to you. You catch it out of habit and freeze when you see the look on the guys’ faces. 

“Oh, shit,” you mutter.

“Better run, darlin’,” Bucky gives you a boyish grin. 

You turn and do your best to run, smile on your face growing as you surprisingly manage to keep some distance between you and the men chasing you - Bucky leading the pack. A smile spreads across your face, flashbacks of playing football with your cousins on Thanksgiving playing through your mind. One year, one of your cousins had broken his arm - he had landed on it wrong after being tackled. After that, your parents made you stick to playing two-hand tap. 

“Slow pokes,” you tease the boys. 

“Oh, doll,” you look over your shoulder to see Bucky gaining on you, “you know I was letting you get away, right?”

You let out a shriek as you suddenly feel Bucky’s hands on your hips. Your grip tightens on the ball as his long fingers easily span your waist.

“Sorry, babe, part of the game,” he gives you a look of false sympathy before wrapping his arms around your hips and gently tackling you into the water.

You can tell he’s trying hard to control himself, making sure he doesn’t accidentally hurt you. Bucky lets go of you quickly, letting you stand from the water just as fast as you went under. 

“That’s okay, Barnes,” you give him a cocky grin, “I still got the ball,” you wave it in your hand.

He gives you a smile and holds your chin up with his hand. He leans down and connects his lips to yours. You don’t even have a chance to worry about whether or not anyone is witnessing his display of PDA because he’s suddenly ripped away from you. 

Bucky lets out a loud oomph as Sam’s shoulder collides with his torso, effectively knocking the wind out of him. Bucky is surprised by the attack, but manages to overpower Sam rather quickly as you and Steve watch in amusement. Bucky gets Sam in a headlock and you can’t help but stare at the way his bicep bulges as he flexes it. You feel a pulse in your core when you think about Bucky’s arm wrapped around your own neck like that. 

“Say I’m the best,” Bucky taunts.

“Dick,” Sam struggles in Bucky’s grasp, but his efforts are futile. 

“Come on, punk,” Bucky chuckles. 

“Fine,” Sam admits defeat. “You’re the best.”

Bucky drops his arm and Sam stands, muttering curses.

Bucky makes his way over to you and plucks the ball from your fingers.

“Thought you guys weren’t gonna come,” he tosses the ball back and forth between his hands.

“We got bored,” Steve shrugs. “Why? Did we interrupt something?” he teases.

“Haha,” you laugh sarcastically and roll your eyes.

The next couple of hours are spent playing football - you get revenge on Bucky with your own tackle - and talking with your new friends. At one point when Sam is arguing with Steve and Bucky about whether you’re currently in the pacific or the atlantic ocean - Steve and Bucky are right - you decide to take a break from the water and lay on the beach to tan.

You straighten out your towel and lay back on your elbows. You find that you can’t take your eyes off of Bucky. You smile to yourself as you watch his brows furrow in utter disbelief and frustration at his friend - you idiot, do you know anything about geography?.

You’ve only known Bucky for three days and you’re scared of how strong your feelings are for him. Maybe it’s the fact that he makes you feel safe, maybe it’s the way he listens so intently anytime you talk, maybe it’s the way he and his friends have gladly taken you in when you were desperate for companionship, and maybe it’s just the amazing sex, but something has you falling nearly head over heels for this man you hardly know. And that scares you. You haven’t felt anything like this since Brock - and even that had been different. You really hope Bucky feels the same at least a little bit.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky’s honeyed comes from above you.

“Hey, Buck,” you look up at him, lifting your hand to block the sun.

He gives you an affectionate smile and chuckles at your squinted expression.

“So I was thinking,” he starts, “you said you wanted to go snorkeling. I thought maybe we could go together? I called this place nearby earlier and they’ve got room for us both today.”

Your eyes widen in excitement, “Oh my gosh, Bucky!” you revel in the grin your squeal draws from him. “That sounds perfect!”

“Okay, cool,” Bucky offers you a hand to help you up. “You wanna go grab a little something to eat before we head out?”

You nod and take his hand. The two of you get dressed and pack up your stuff. You say goodbye to Steve and Sam and leave them on the beach as you make your way back to the resort with Bucky, his arm slung over your shoulder. You and Bucky grab a small snack from the store in the resort, not wanting to fill up before snorkeling. Bucky arranges for a taxi and when it arrives, he opens the door for you and climbs in next to you. 

Once you reach the snorkeling place, a little hut on the beach, Bucky leads you inside. He makes his way to the counter and gives the worker his name. You feel a twinge of guilt when he reaches for his wallet to pay for the both of you. You tug on his arm and look up to him hesitantly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he places a kiss on your forehead before turning back to the receptionist. 

The woman at the counter gives you and Bucky an overview of what will happen - you will go out back to the dock and get your gear while you wait for the rest of the people in your group to show up before boarding the boat. 

Bucky thanks the lady and guides you outside with a hand on your lower back. You’re greeted by a couple of guys who look like they could be younger than you. They get you and Bucky situated with a snorkel, mask, and fins. You and Bucky put your clothes in your bag, leaving you clad in swimwear, before putting the bag in a locker for safe keeping. 

Eventually, the rest of your group shows up - a married couple and their two children - and the workers hand out their gear. Once everyone is ready, they board everyone onto the boat and wave goodbye, returning to the deck as the captain makes his way over to greet you.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” the man smiles brightly. “My name is Koa and I will be your guide today.” He goes over the rules and procedures for the trip.

After his run down, he unties the boat from the dock and makes his way to the captain’s chair. You and Bucky take a seat on one of the padded benches on the side of the boat and he places a hand on your thigh. You take in the gorgeous scenery as the boat’s motor hums and takes you into the clear, blue water. After about five minutes, the boat stops and Koa drops the anchor. 

You’re not far away from shore, the water is calm and shallow. Koa reminds everyone of the rules and makes sure they know how to properly use their gear. He tells you about the marine life you’ll see and points out what you should keep an eye out for.

“You guys are all set to explore,” he tells the group, “I’ll be here watching you guys if you need me. And remember, don’t stray too far from the boat.”

With that, everyone stands from their seats. The kids excitedly clamber down the ladder into the water, their mom rushing behind them yelling for them to slow down. The dad follows behind, shaking his head and smiling. Bucky goes in front of you and makes his way into the water. Once in, he reaches a hand out to hold your waist, steadying you as you climb down. 

For the most part, you and Bucky stay on one side of the boat and the family stays on the other. You see a lot of colorful fish and excitedly jab Bucky’s side to get his attention when you see a pufferfish. You swim around the area, staying close to Bucky most of the time. You make sure to keep near the boat and you ask Koa questions about the fish every so often. Once everyone has finished looking around the area and observing the wildlife, Koa calls everyone to climb back on so you can head toward the next snorkeling area. 

Once back on the boat, the kids excitedly chatter nonstop, jumping up and down as they talk about all the things they saw. You notice Bucky’s small smirk as he watches the children. He looks over to you and his face visibly heats when he notices he’d been caught. You use your thumb to wipe away a drop of water running down the side of his face. Bucky gently takes your hand and presses a kiss to it before holding it between his own in his lap. Thankfully, he turns to look into the water, so he doesn’t see the smile you subconsciously let spread across your lips at the feeling of your hand in his own. 

Koa anchors the boat near a coral reef when the boat stops for the second time. He explains that Hawaiian coral reefs house thousands of different kinds of creatures and algae.

“The water is deeper here,” he warns, “and we must be careful not to disturb the coral. We cannot get too close to the reefs, so I ask that you view them from a distance of several feet.” 

After his speech, everyone makes their way into the water again. The brief chill the water provides is a welcomed reprieve from the blazing sun, though you couldn’t have asked for more perfect weather. Bucky makes his way toward the reef and you follow him. You and Bucky swim around and observe the reef in awe, watching the way the plants flow with the water and seeing all the invertebrates crawl around in the sand. 

When you come back to the surface, you make conversation with the little kids as you wait for Bucky to finish exploring.

When Bucky emerges from the water, he shouts over to you and the rest of the group, “Hey guys, there’s a sea turtle over here!”

The kids scramble to swim over to where Bucky’s pointing, you and their parents following behind. Bucky warns the kids not to get too close so that they don’t scare the turtle away. Koa tells the group that Hawaiian sea turtles can weigh as much as 500 pounds. After everyone has seen the turtle, thankfully it didn’t get scared off, you all clamber back onto the boat.

“The snorkeling part of the tour is over, but I’ll continue the boat tour before we make our way back to shore,” Koa informs everyone.

You and Bucky get settled in on the bench, sitting opposite the rest of the group. He puts his arm around your shoulders and holds you into him. Koa tells you different fun facts about the island and the wild life. He takes you past different coves and beaches, laughing at his own terrible dad jokes frequently.

“This is stunning,” you almost whisper as you pass ginormous mountains and lush trees. 

“Yeah, doll,” Bucky replies, “It is.”

You turn to find him already looking at you. He places a finger under your chin and presses a kiss to your lips. You smile at him before returning your attention to the majestic blue of the ocean and realize that it’s the same color as Bucky’s eyes. 

All too soon, Koa is docking the boat and wishing everyone an amazing rest of their vacation. Once you and Bucky are off the boat, you grab your bag and dry off before getting dressed. Bucky calls for a taxi and soon enough you’re back at the hotel. Bucky walks you to your room.

“I think I’m gonna take a shower real quick,” you tell Bucky. “Would you- um, would you wanna join me?” you’re feeling bold, possibly because you’re still feeling the effects of what happened in the dressing room and you’re desperate for some release. 

Bucky must be able to tell how horny you are because he gives you a knowing grin, “Doll, I would love to, but I promised Sam and Steve that I would meet them at the bar after we got done,” he gives you a sad smile, “Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with you, but I want to make sure I’m still hanging out with them, you know?”

“Oh my gosh, Bucky, yeah. I’m sorry, you’re totally right.”

“Hey, darling,” Bucky makes eye contact with you, “Don’t apologize. If it was up to me I’d spend the rest of my vacation with just you. But hey, how about you come find us at the bar after your shower?”

“Deal. Only if you’ll let me buy you a drink, though,” you challenge.

“Doll, you know that’s not happening.” Bucky leans down until his mouth is level with your ear, “And don’t think about touching that pretty little pussy of yours if you want me to reward you tonight.”

Your mouth drops at the sudden warning. Bucky gives you a cocky grin in response to your reddened face. 

“Come down when you’re done, and leave your wallet,” with that, he turns and walks away, leaving you flustered and horny. 

You try not to think about the way that Bucky had eaten you out like a starving man last night and how he had used you to chase his own release earlier while you take a cold shower. You put on some shorts and your new Hawaiian shirt before making your way downstairs.

When you step outside, you glance around the bar area, searching for Bucky and his friends. You see Steve and Sam talking to each other at one end of the bar, but Bucky isn’t with them. After another scan, you find him. He’s leaning up against the bar with his back to you, but he’s not by his friends. He’s next to a gorgeous woman in a bikini. You falter for a second when you see Bucky turn to her, talking with a smile on his face. They’re clearly in the middle of a conversation. You stop in your tracks when Bucky buys a beer and hands it to the woman. He laughs at something she said and you turn away. 

What the fuck?

It’s not like you two were exlcusive or anything, hell you’d only known each other for two days. You probably don’t have any right to feel jealous, but regardless, you feel a pang in your gut. His dick had just been in your mouth hours ago and now he’s buying drinks for someone who could be a supermodel?

You hold back your tears as you make your way back inside, heading for the indoor bar.

How could you be so stupid. Of course the connection wasn’t real. He was just using you to get his dick wet, and you had let him. 

You take a seat at the bar and order a double shot of whiskey, good thing you did end up bringing your wallet. You mentally scold yourself for believing there was ever a connection between you and Bucky as you down your drink. You order a second one and think about what you’ll do if he tries to talk to you again. If he tries to fuck you again. You won’t let him back in your pants, that’s for sure. You wonder if he’s looking at that woman like she’s the most important thing in the world, the way he had looked at you.

You don’t understand how guys manage to put on such a convincing gentleman act just to get laid. He had you fooled with his I don’t usually do this speech this morning. Part of you wants to believe that he hadn’t bought you stuff and opened doors for you just to get you to sleep with him, but you know better deep down. Why would anyone be interested in you like that? Brock had made it clear that you weren’t anything worth holding on to. You sometimes wish you aren’t as trusting as you are, it’s not the first time you’ve been hurt because of it.

You down the second drink and resign yourself to spending the next three days alone before heading home. You’ve got plenty of experience with being alone, though.

part three!

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added!) - @vicmc624 @distancedss @kandis-mom @cakesandtom @buckbuckybuckaroo @volleyballgirl2022 @sapphirebarnes @xobabygirl143 @sarah1barnes @ladyacrasia @charmedbysarge

[chronically-ghosted]

in another life . . .

rating: explicit, 18+

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

word count: 7K

summary: Partner. That word had been jammed up inside his brain for as long as he could remember. Gym-class partner, lab partner, work-out partner, partner-in-training, partner in this fucking life or death situation where we’re only going to get out alive if we trust each other more than I trust myself. And then he met you and the definition changed again.

warnings: domestic!frankie, marriage kink (if that’s a thing), oral (f receiving) but i think that’s an expectation from every frankie fic, improper use of a kitchen table, unprotected piv, no use of y/n, brief mentions of PTSD, improper use of Spanish, eating in bed 

a/n: requested for my 100 followers event! Anon: hiiii firstly! congrats on the big one hundo you totally deserve it 🥂‼️ secondly wondering if I could rq a Pedro boy drabble with prompt number 12... I wanna do laundry for Frankie Morales :D “did you just wash these sheets?” “I did.” “they smell nice. and they’re still warm.”

🤍Masterlist

. . . I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

Frankie fills the silence of the house without you in it with music. This house, it had been your choice, even though he never expressly made you choose, or even presented the dichotomy. This house, with its leaky faucet and janky AC unit and finicky pilot light, was what you wanted instead of a diamond ring, and so he gave it to you. First down payment, along with every other red cent you and he had both saved up, went into buying your first home together. This wasn’t forever, you both agreed (with only two bedrooms it wasn’t enough room for a baby, he often thought) but even as the real estate agent glanced around with disdain for the house and your budget, one look from you and it was settled. 

“It has good bones,” you said, standing out on the concrete deck overlooking a postage-stamp-sized backyard. There were weeds in the corners and holes from some unknown animal but he could see the wheels in your head turning, imagining how you, like everything else you did, planned to tackle and wrestle control over it with your bare hands. “It needs work, but I think there’s something special here.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, threading his fingers through yours, the real estate agent no doubt off somewhere inspecting the drains. “Is there something here?”

You grinned and shoved your nose then a soft press of your lips into his denim-shoulder. 

“I’m sure of it.”

All his life, Frankie worked best in a unit. As children, his older brother, his younger brother, and him were practically inseparable, their physical similarities almost presenting as the same person but at different ages, and when that group disbanded because Oscar left for college, he went on to find another one. First, his army unit, then the boys. His boys. Left to his own devices, Frankie was terrible at remembering to eat, sleep regularly – focus on anything other than fixing cars and planes, really – but he’d do it for them. He hated to see that worried crease show up on Will’s brow when Frankie admitted he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He hated that Benny had to show up at his apartment to drag his ass outta bed to get him into the sunlight. And he hated when Pope felt obligated to take him out to bars to try and meet women.

“I’m not dating someone just so they can be my mother,” Frankie muttered into the lip of his beer bottle. “I don’t need anyone thinking I need to rely on them like that.” 

“Yeah, but you do better when you have people relying on you.” Pope’s dark eyes flitted from a woman at the bar top to him, with intention and full of force. “And I’m not saying I’m trying to get you to fuck your mother, but you need a partner.” 

Partner. 

That word had been jammed up inside his brain for as long as he could remember. Gym-class partner, lab partner, work-out partner, partner-in-training, partner in this fucking life or death situation where we’re only going to get out alive if we trust each other more than I trust myself. 

And then he met you and the definition changed again. 

You are his best friend. You are the woman he wants to fuck every day for the rest of his life. You are the first person he wants to tell good news to and the first person he wants to talk to when he’s had a shitty day. Your voice quiets something inside him that has been far too loud for far too long. You are a relief and a refuge. For all his faults, you love him and sometimes he can’t fathom why. 

You are his partner – in life, in marriage (one day), and forever (he hopes).

“I might not always like you, Catfish,” you said to him in Will’s backyard for Benny’s birthday party. You had been drinking and every sip seems to bring you closer and closer to him. With your face tucked up into his neck, arms up under his flannel and hugging his waist, the only way he could be physically closer to you was if he was inside you – which he was about two seconds away from suggestion when you leaned in close. “‘M not always going to like you, but ‘m always going love you.”

And love him you did. You loved him when he decided to go back to school to get some additional certifications so he could maybe teach flight school. The army would pay for most of it, was a fucking relief to your shared thread-bare, cartoon-spider-web empty savings account. But what the army would not pay for was for you to go to nursing school. You worked in hotels for the events services branch, coordinating everything from weddings to conferences, walking (mostly running) from one end of the hotel to the next. Your sister got you a Fitbit for Christmas one year and after the holiday rush, you walked twenty miles in two days. 

“After that, this nursing stuff should be a breeze,” you said flippantly as you signed your paperwork for admissions. 

Of course you got accepted at one of the better hospitals in the city – he never doubted for a second you would – and as the fresh-faced trainee, you got stuck with most of the night shifts. 

Which meant his days looked a lot like this: wake up at 6AM, drive an hour to the helicopter tour building on the coast, fly rich idiots around all day, eat the lunch you had prepped for the both of you on Sunday night, continue flying rich idiots around, drive home in two-hour traffic, change into his work overalls, go work on some cars Benny’s buddy had at the local garage for some extra cash, then go home, heat up dinner you also made Sunday night, and then attend to the most pressing thing you or the house needed. 

Which could be:

Fixing the AC unit, resealing the back door so it would close properly, re-caulking the shower, building more attic space, repainting the back fence, or replacing the hand towel holder.

Frankie didn’t mind the hard work. It kept his mind and his hands busy. What he did mind was the house silent and eerily empty without you here. 

He didn’t mind the hard work because even for a few hours, he got to hold you while you slept. He got to eat with you at 10:30 at night and it was the highlight of his day.

Pay your surgeon very well to break the spell of aging

Sicker than the rest, there is no test, but this is what you're craving?

Frankie bobs his head, his earphones carefully tucked up under his shirt to prevent the laundry from tangling up in them. He hauls out the latest load and moves onto the washer, fishing out one more sock when suddenly the lights go off. All of them. Total darkness.

And then light and he’s staring down the bottom of the drum.

Then dark. And light.

You. Your code. One you designed when you read that PTSD victims are often triggered into a fight-or-flight response when startled. You, who knew before he did, how to manage the symptoms, create workarounds, and find a pathway through, instead of not at all. 

He takes out one of the earbuds and smiles.

“Hey, you’re home.” 

You lean against the doorway, smiling that smile that is reserved for him and him alone. Sometimes he’s selfish and wants everything of yours to be only for him – all your smiles, your laughter, your sighs – but that’s like trying to capture sunlight in a butterfly net: too focused on the impossible and you end up missing the daytime. 

“How goes this fucking Sysphian task?” You nod at the baskets of laundry at his feet, referring to how you’d often rant and rave about how laundry, the dishes, and grocery shopping were never tasks that could simply be done. He knows how much you hate being unable to cross things off your to-do lists, so he holds your hand during all of these rantings and kisses your knuckles when you take a breath. 

“Good,” he shrugs. “‘Bout to fold your scrubs for tomorrow.”

“Ah, have I told you lately that I love you?” You swing into the room and kiss him on his cheek, on the division where his patchy beard meets his skin – the place that you most often claimed on him. Your fingers squeeze around his bicep as you pull away and your eyes fall to the basket behind him. You gasp with glee. 

“Did you just wash these sheets?” You ask like you’d just uncovered buried gold. 

He smirks, propping his hip up against the dryer. “I did.” 

Without another word, you scoop them up in your arms and inhale sharply.

“Mhmm, they smell nice.” You bury your head in deep. “And they’re still warm.”

In the rare moments when you’re both home and going through laundry together, he never fails to scoop up a load of hot towels and dump them over your head, relishing in the girlish giggle from beneath the clean laundry. “It’s so toasty,” you whimper with glee. 

“They’re not gonna be if you get your hospital gunk all over them,” Frankie tuts, going back to add a new load into the washer as you glare at him over the lump of sheets. 

“Ha, ha. Move over, Mr. Morales, and watch a master at work.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Morales.” It’s stupid but his heart always fumbles when he calls you that. It started as a joke, one that you initiated, but now it’s like berry jam on his tongue, sweet and sugary. He’s thought about calling you that while he’s inside you but figures he should save something for the wedding night. 

He sidles back, giving you space near the dryer as you pick up a basket of t-shirts.

“You know there’s dinner waiting for you in the kitchen.” He shakes his head as you begin to fold the shirts with lightning speed and precision – a side effect of being the oldest daughter in a family of five kids. 

“Yeah, but you’re in here,” you say and bump his hip. He bumps you back and helps with the load. “Besides, it’ll get done faster with two people.”

He can’t exactly argue with that, so he lets the silence grow. But it’s not silence, not really. In the distance, dogs bark. Outside the room, the temperamental AC grumbles, a sound he never thought he’d come to appreciate. Inside the room, fingers tug at fabric, the soft thump as the shirts grow into a continuous pile. Then there’s you, breathing in the lilac-scented air, the scent of his deodorant and sweat and something entirely unique to him– his Frankie-ness as you’ve called it many times without elaborating. I’d bottle it if I could, you told him, bathe in it. You’re kinda weird, he told you, and you know he likes it. 

Every once in a while, his elbow brushes up against yours, yours skirting around his, but never colliding, an awareness of the other always present and attended to, a flow of familiarity and recognition he’s never felt before or known since. 

Bit by bit, you’ve taken pieces of him into you, picked them up, held them to the light and found them beautiful, until a second bit of his soul lives outside of his body. He knows every inch of you, how every atom calls out to him, begs to be close to him, and held tight. It’s not sunlight he’s trying to keep safe, it’s your heart. Your precious, wonderful heart that is somehow so full, it was enough to fill him up too. Gold filling in the cracks. 

Kintsugi, Benny called it, when he got obsessed with anime for three months that one time two years ago. Frankie never could remember the actual name, and maybe that wasn’t the point and maybe it was a little ridiculous, especially when it was explained by a deliriously drunk and bleary-eyed Ben Miller at one in the morning on his brother’s lawn chair. 

Maybe a better way of thinking about it was how separate, disparate, jagged and raw edges came to fit together. How someone like him got a do-over, another chance to be remade in the kiln, and how someone like you was allowed to love unselfishly, to ask for things and never be threatened with reparations of some kind – as if loving you deserved some sort of compensation. 

Pieces, broken and scattered – he looked up and saw you carrying yours, and you witnessed the scars and blood dripping from the shards of his own past, his life, his love, and despite how slippery his pieces were, how dried and empty and wanting yours were, something pulled them together and made them stay. 

Something stronger than light.

Stronger than gold. 

You shook his hand and looked at what you built together, the pieces that came together, and in the end, that was your partnership. A creation of something greater – home, family, love. 

So much fucking love.

In the end, Frankie Morales used love to build his life, not death, and you’re the one who gave it to him.

He drops the last shirt on the stack and he turns, his fingers seeking the drawstring of your pants. 

You know what he wants. You want it too. A singular desire in two separate bodies.

The inherent closeness of domesticity draws you into him, closing the already limited space as hands find waists and lips find skin. He drags his nose against your jaw, somehow already shaking, his teeth grazing your throat, unwilling and unable to press his lips to you, wanting to drag this out as much as possible. He squeezes your hips, thumbs flipping under your shirt to touch, touch, touch, until his fingers wrap around your ribs and you make your first sound of the night. It snags at his restraint, pulling it threadbare. 

“Frankie,” you sigh and he cannot fight the cataclysmic pull towards you – he stumbles, pinning you to the laundry room wall, his tongue cupping your earlobe into his mouth and he sucks. The next noise you make is high and keening and it turns his touch frantic.

Caught between the wall and his broad shoulders, he does with you what he wants. He nips at your cheek, your neck, the dip of your clavicle, as his thumb presses up each knot of your spine, drawing out the tension from your body like draining poisoned blood, and by the time he pinches off your bra, you’re all but hanging onto him. 

“Baby–,” 

He can hear you say, it’s late, we have work in the morning, you don’t have to do this,

I’m not worth this 

With a low growl that is all possession, all anger that someone ever made you feel like your love was too much, he tugs your shirt off, knocking his hat off as he goes. In the drift, he sees your eyes flutter, mouth twisted in pleasure and guilt – you don’t want to be asking for things like this – and so he silences every doubt, every worry that he’s tired or it’s too late or his knees are aching too much to make you feel the way you deserve – he kisses you with enough force to knock out every unpleasant thought you’ve ever had about yourself and flattens you against the wall. 

You let him pry you open, his touch fervent and insistent, tasting of iced coffee and gum. He licks into you, telling you things with his tongue, the way he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth, in the soft puff of breath that escapes him when you cup the back of his neck. Closer, he begs, closer. 

His wide palm arching your lower back into him, he squeezes your ribs, up under your breast, before finally taking your nipple between his thumb and the meat of his hand and twists, just enough to make you break apart from his demanding mouth, gasping as if tapped by a live wire. But it’s him who is electrocuted, who catches fire, who wants to be chewed down and swallowed up. He shuffles and pulls you into him, the throbbing in his pants bordering on painful. He rubs himself against you once and you sigh like you know he hurts. You nod.

Your fingers peel your shirt up and over your head as he cups one thigh then the other until your hips hug his waist, smearing the hem of his shirt up over his skin. He feels the heat coming from between your legs, the slight dampness, against his lower belly and he groans, low, right near that source of warmth he wants to die in. 

You curl above him, tipping his head back, as you dive into his mouth again, fingers twisting into his hair, thumbs brushing his temple right where you know he tends to get headaches. Your tongue brushes against his upper lip, tasting his mustache, and his knees threaten to buckle. 

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he laments, he praises, into the supple wetness of your tongue. You nod, pleased, and press your chest into him. He cannot fucking wait to get his mouth around your tits.

Mouth sealed to yours, hands cupping the meat of your ass, Frankie works entirely on sense memory to carry you into the kitchen, to a long wooden table beneath a wide window, white curtains closed and blinds shut. 

This table had been one of the first purchases for the new house. Tan cedar boards with white knobby legs, it instantly reminded him of the one in his own childhood home, where he and his brothers fought over meals and did homework together. Where he held his mom after his father died and where he dropped his bag after coming home from a life too long spent fighting other people’s wars. 

This table mattered to him and he’d be damned if it wouldn’t mean something to his own child one day. 

That was something you too wanted to give your child, never having a table like this in your own life. You loved the stories he told about the table in his kitchen. How much it meant to him.

And now he was going to fuck you on it, this symbol of stability.

He just wonders how stable it really is. 

His fingers clutching the back of your neck, arm running in tandem with your spine, he lowers you down, shifting your weight onto his arm so you don’t bump your head against the wood. He releases you but you protest, a muffled uh-uh, as he tries retreating. You loop your arms around his neck, tugging him flat against you and he feels your breasts mold against his chest, nipples already tight.

“Baby,” he breathes, sucking up and out of your mouth, “let me make you feel good.”

Behind him, he hears your sneakers clatter to the floor, your heels digging into his back as you toe off your shoes, and you shake your head. 

“I am.” Kiss. A thumb under his bottom lip. “You do.” Breathless, reverent, grateful. 

Grateful.

Grateful that he is kissing you. 

Not good enough. God, he’s going to eat that self-loathing right out of you. 

You whine, frustrated and hot, as he pulls back. He wants to go right for your pussy, but stutters at the sight of your unmarked tits. Smooth, flushed, heaving. There is no part of you he does not love, does not feel the need to worship on his knees. 

But suddenly sour shame strikes him as he realizes enough time has passed since the last time you’d had sex for the hickeys to heal. He intends to amend that right now. 

His thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips, to calm himself, he folds himself over you, dribbling kisses along your throat, over the wings of your clavicle, at the barest incline at the top of your breast, and then to the meat of your tit, the heaviness, the sway, and he bites down. Predictably, you yelp, nails scratching roughly into his scalp and that only makes him suck harder. You have very strict rules around where he can mark you, but on the places he can – oh, you beg him for it. 

He palms your other tit, just to feel the goosebumps break out across your skin, to roll your nipple with the calluses on his palm. His teeth release, his tongue laving over that already pink and swollen skin, and he glances up, his other thumb coming to massage that fragile patch. 

Being a pilot, a soldier, a brother, a son, those are the things he is. But Frankie lives – aches, pines, desires – to watch you come apart. 

The purple bruise on your tit shining like a luxurious necklace, your eyes flutter open when you feel him pull up. Your fingers around his ears, your chest wet with his spit, you let him take you in. You give him this, because you know you’re about to get so much more. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, he can feel the soft cant of your hips, the quiet, patient begging, as you thought he needed reminding that you needed this. You rub up him, knees pinned to his ribs, and he lets you pull him into your mouth, grounding him. This kiss is brief, soft, a far cry from the tearing and biting that got you onto the table. Knowing exactly the state you need to be in to ask for what you want, he holds your jaw, thumb against the apple of your cheek and he slips his tongue out of your mouth. Again a protest, an instinctual reaction to the repeated pattern of abandonment, but like all cries for help, he quiets your squirming by sliding his thumb between your lips. 

“Suck,” he murmurs gently. Your eyes flutter shut, your nails carving half moons into his forearm, lips creating a vacuum seal around his knuckle and you obey – you suck – and he rewards you with a trail of kisses across your sternum, over your breasts, to the soft swell of your stomach. He nuzzles your belly button and you groan, eyes still shut and his thumb still in your mouth. He bites, softer than before, just above the thatch of hair and you whine around his finger, body going supple for him. He slides his thumb out, dragging a shiny string of spit over your plush lips, down your chin, joining his other hand at the waist band of both your panties and your scrubs. 

Any fast movement will awaken that anxious, overthinking, beautiful brain of yours, now that he has it fuzzy and unfocused, so he keeps kissing, keeps sucking and biting, that spot just above your curls. He tongues your hip, and then the other side, your bottom half wonderfully bare before you can open your eyes. 

His shoulder bumps the back of your thigh as he stands up right, inhaling the sweat behind your knee, the pungent tang of your glistening curls, your almond butter body lotion. It’s hunger, he feels, but not a tangible hunger, one that can be so easily satiated. It’s not painful, or weakening – no, he is made stronger by it. He feels your blood pulse beneath his hand on your inner thigh as he opens you up and he’s made better by it. 

He kneels, a holy servant before the divine meal of their goddess, on shitty linoleum beneath harsh lights in a kitchen he can barely afford. 

Frankie takes your hand, kisses your knuckles, and slides your grip into his hair. 

“Recuérdame cómo te gusta, nena.” 

He eats. He consumes. He licks. He sucks. He slurps.

He tastes your dripping wetness on the seam of your cunt, before his tongue ever gets the chance to explore, to open, to divulge. He licks until he feels your breath hitch – a curse in the shape of his name, as if he needs scolding for making you feel so good – and then he opens his jaw and tongues your hole. 

In a lust-drunk haze you once told him he has something better than DSL – he has a pussy-eating nose. He prods you with that nose you can’t seem to get enough of, licking in as far as he can, coating himself in everything as it leaks out of you, and he moans as he can feel it on his chin. You vibrate with the sound and above him, your fingers clench down into his hair. 

“Oh, fuck, holy – fuck, Frankie–,” your trembling shakes the bowl of your hips, spilling his meal, so he sucks your clit in a way that makes your body freeze and then melt. You go limp, pliable, and gushing. He gets a few more moments of twisting and sucking and swallowing, until by the third time he puts his lips around your clit, you open-mouth whine and it’s like his body violently remembers he has a cock. He is seized with such a need to fuck you in this warm, wet place he’s dug out with his tongue, he doubles over and rests his teeth against your thigh. 

“Frankie, I’m so close,” you writhe, chest flushed and brow sweaty. 

Before you, he never knew sex could feel like this, could do this. Sure, he used sex to keep away those circling, vulture-like thoughts from time to time. But this, this drawing out and unthreading, unspooling, of himself and someone else, tearing at ego-drenched threads until all that was left was a being of pure want and desire – he didn’t know this was possible. 

He didn’t know he could feel like this.

One more broad lick, coating everything in what he hope fucking smells like him, and you arch, thighs shaking, his hair in danger of being ripped from his scalp. You gasp as you flatten, the first orgasm of the night rolling through you, sweat making your skin salty, as though you had been breached by the ocean. 

He laps you through it, of course, a nascent smirk on his face. 

You open your eyes to this self-satisfied Frankie, eyes only visible over the top of your cunt, and you whine. 

You reach for him and he goes, smearing your slick over your face, offering it to you in supplication on his tongue. He tastes your rising desperation, the way you sharpen your teeth against his lips, batter his tongue into the corner of his mouth, try to claim what your cunt already has. His hunger is an infection and your fever has reached a boiling point. 

Your trembling fingers curl his shirt up his back, passing over the ruddy scar on his shoulder where he got hit with a stray bullet, the jagged white line over his ribs where a knife nearly split him open. He used to only fuck with his shirt on. He doesn’t now. 

His shirt crumples to the floor as he sits up, you following, eyes dark, and you bite his pec muscle, your love for him twisting you into an anthropophagist. You want to consume him, like your pussy swallows his cock. Having him impale you is not enough; you want intercourse with him on a subatomic level. 

You inch back to give yourself enough space to unbutton his jeans and he sees the wet slick left behind on the table. The heat behind his groin shoots up his spine and he grunts, burying his face into your neck where he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth, hands planted on either side of you.

“Hurry, baby, I gotta fuck this pussy,” he whispers against the curve of your jaw. He wants to leave a giant purple bruise there, this instinct to claim, to mark, stoking the roiling heat at the base of his spine and drawing up his balls. 

But his attention snaps back to your hands when he hears a click, the release of his zipper is almost euphoric. He moans in relief, unable to see through his half-lidded eyes the explosion of goosebumps over your skin as his breath tumbles over your back and down your chest. 

His urgent hands overwhelm yours, one pushing his jeans down his hips, the other palming your stomach, pushing you back and you go willingly, but seemingly mesmerized by the sight of his aching, flushed cock springing up against his stomach. You lie down, but only barely, still on your elbows, as he tugs you by your ankles to the edge of the table. 

Your uneven breathing could mean a lot of things. He thought you were being complementary the first time you told him he was too big, but your eyes always widened at the sight of his cock. 

“Do you need to be opened up some more, cariño?” 

At his rawest, Spanish came out of him like a spilled bottle of molasses, sweet, slow, rich. 

“Hmm? Tell me what you need. Hable mas alto por favor.” He rubs your knees, your thighs, hoping you’ll ask for what he wants.

“F-fingers, Frankie,” you swallow, eyes still latched on to his now weeping cock. You glance up at him, face open and full of trust, and he feels his dick pulse. “Please, Frankie, put your fingers in me.” 

“Fucking anything.” He plants one hand and cups your mound, lost for a moment in the soaked curls, before pushing two fingers inside and thrusting. “I’ll fucking give you anything you want.” 

His hips jerking slightly in tandem with the pulse of his fingers, his slacked mouth an indication of how unconscious his humping has become, as he watches you dissolve with every stroke of his hand. God, he didn’t know they made things this pretty. His hand pushes your knee up and back, finding room for three fingers and your eyes roll back in your head. You scrabble for anything to hold onto, fingers searching for the ghosts of your bedsheets, but finding none, your arms curl over your head and latch onto the other edge of the table. You present your fucking tits to him like you’re letting him admire artwork. 

It almost brings him to his knees.

“Oh, I’m coming, oh, Frankie, I’m gonna –,”

He pulls out his fingers just enough to let you gush down his palm, his wrist, and he licks it up like a glutton. It drips a bit onto the linoleum and he smears it with his bare feet.

Frankie slides two fingers back in, his brain going fuzzy at being away from the clutch of your cunt for too long, when you grab his wrist. 

You can barely breathe, your skin a pale pink, your cunt no doubt must be sore, but your eyes are as hard as diamonds in your skull. He swallows the flush of spit in his mouth.  

“Now, Frankie,” you plead, fingers tight around his wet wrist, the hairs on his arm standing up at the sound of your commanding voice. “Fuck me, now, I need you inside of me.”

It always makes him a bit dumbstruck, the way you beg, the way you let him and only him see this side of you – this side of you that is sick with wanting.

His hand squeezes the base of his cock once, eyes fluttering, to remind himself he cannot blow his fucking load the instant the tip of him is inside you. He taps your clit, once, twice, lubing himself up as if he hadn’t moved around internal organs to make way for himself. He notches, then slides, white-knuckling his impending orgasm in favor of making this good for you. He steps farther between your legs, hands sliding from your thighs, up to your waist. He thumbs your nipple and your pussy twitches around him. He swears his heart flat out stops for a concerning length of time.

“How is a pussy this good all mine? All fucking mine?” He rolls his hips, pushing deeper, movements marionetted by the high-pitched whimpers and moans of your mouth. He could catalog every single one of them, has done so in the deep recesses of his brain, and it takes just a second to know when it switches from pleasure to pain. 

He bends over you, you choking on his dick, and kisses you hard, shattering the tense look on your face.  

“I love you,” he tells you, a secret that despite being well-known to anyone who sees him look at you, still feels precious and fragile. His hand plasters your hair to your sweaty neck as he kisses you desperately, speaking a language only you understand. “I love you so fucking much.” 

You sigh into his open mouth. “I wanna marry you, Fransisco Morales.” 

He is covered in gold. Dripping with it. 

His nails at your hip dig into your skin and you know exactly what you’ve done. 

“Say it. Say it louder, nena,” he snarls, face pressed into your cheek, and he thrusts forward with enough force to rock the table. The table legs squeak as you pin him to you one more time and nip at his ear. The last drop in the well, the rope slipping over the edge, the coil locked into place.

“I wanna fucking marry you.” 

With a breathy grunt, he yanks you down onto his cock by your waist and slaps your ass with his balls. It’s been a while since your cunt has taken a beating like this. You clutch at the edge of the table again, mouth torn open.

He knows you like it when he plays with your clit, and he will, but he needs to get this out of him. 

“Yeah? You’re gonna marry the guy who’s fucking your pussy so good right now?” It’s amazing that words escape at all through his gritted teeth, jaw taut. He watches as he disappears and reappears in you, your lips puffy and pink already but he needs more. He doesn’t want you to be able to walk out of bed tomorrow. 

“Yes, Frankie – oh, god, there, right there – yes, I’m gonna marry you.” He tips your hips up as he pounds down and you arch, crying out at the angle, the depth, how full you feel. He fucks like he’s trying to bruise your ribcage through your pussy. 

The thoughts in his head collide with the others, knotting together, blurring, until the only noise he can make, the only thing he can verbalize is the tight grunts, the hm, hm, hm, as he focuses on chasing this fire. 

He feels it approach so fast, he’s nearly taken under by the intensity of his orgasm so he slows, grinds instead, and with his eyes on your face, he cups himself around where he’s split you open, feeling your lips suck in and out with every thrust. 

He closes his eyes briefly, helpless against the waves of arousal that coat his fingers. He smears your clit with his thumb and his name is a split, jagged thing that burns your tongue. He wants that taste on his tongue again. 

You throb once, a sharp climax warming your pussy, and he backs out, drops to his knees, and licks you up again. He can taste his sweat there this time and he groans. His hands slip over your skin from the sweat in the crease of your thigh.

The cries from your mouth are wet now, on the curve of a salty tongue. You tremble like your orgasm is a physical thing, thrumming under your skin, warming your blood and you claw at his forearm. 

“B-baby, please–,” 

Wiping his mouth on your inner thigh, then licking up the mess he made, Frankie stands. He swats your bottom lightly, tutting. He’s a mad man, he knows it, he can’t tell if it's delirium from the rough ache of his balls or masochistic joy in hearing you beg, but again he rubs himself through your folds. It’s not the same, not nearly enough, but it helps last just a bit longer. 

“No crying until after I’ve made you come.” 

“I’ve already come twice,” you whine as you buck your hips, trying to take him in deeper. “You said I can have anything I want.” 

“And what does princesa want?” Yeah, there’s definitely something wrong with him. 

Your eyes flash as your nails dig into his shoulders, that fire he so loves to stoke flaring out.

“I want to come on your cock, Mr. Morales.”

And he unravels, divinity calling his name. 

His pace is slow, then rough, then deep. 

The table is just the right height. He balances on knee on the lip, bending your knees over his shoulders, and fucking down into you. He’s going to snap you in fucking half and maybe he does but he’ll be there to seal you back up again. 

Pour himself into you. Fill you. Make you whole once more. 

Baby, please.

The first drip of tears starts out the corner of your eyes as you come, open-mouthed, throat exposed, a cry loud and in the shape of his name tearing from your lips, your body locking up, cunt squeezing him until he feels himself burst. 

With a shudder and a groan, he spills, hot and flush into you. He comes, and comes, and comes, until his gooey spend is forced out of you and down the crack of your ass. He can’t see anything past the white spark in his eyes, feel anything but you and the tingle of his limbs. 

The excess of you and him is everywhere, leaking out onto the kitchen table, soaking the wood. There’s a ringing in his ears he can’t quiet. 

Your breath is hot on his neck, sweaty skin stuck tightly against his, he knows he’s crushing you, his arms given out at some point, but he really doesn’t think he can stand up right. He kisses your cheek by way of apology and thanks but you don’t seem to mind, your own gaze unfocused on the ceiling. 

“Fuck, Frankie . . .”

He laughs, realizes his legs aren’t working, so trembling and uneasy, he slides out of you and manages to make it to the floor. He blames the sudden dizziness on a lack of food and then blames the dizziness for lying down on the floor. 

His eyes flutter and somehow you’re suddenly curled up next to him, your palm resting over his pounding heart. His fingers find their way up into your sweat-damp hair, thumb gently rubbing against the knot at the base of your skull. 

“Your back is gonna be killing you in about fifteen minutes, sweetheart,” you grumble sleepily into his chest, a grin on your face. 

“I can’t feel anything below my waist right now.” He yawns. “So, we’ve got some time.” 

You nod, absentmindedly stroking the dark hair on his chest. 

“We need to talk about Pope’s birthday party this weekend. Will put us on drink duty . . . but I can’t really focus on anything right now.”

“Good,” he smirks with his eyes shut. “That was some of my best work.” And then he frowns. “You need to eat.” He pokes your side and you huff.

“Okay, if you’re awake enough to berate me, we can at least go to bed.” 

Groaning, you pull him up and he threatens to stumble you both into the wall, but he kisses your cheek and swats your ass, before snagging a tub of ice cream and a spoon. He meets you in the bedroom with the cap off and a smear of chocolate around his lips. 

You’ve got one of his shirts, grinning up at him from the center of the bed, and he’s torn about whether he likes you in his boxers, or nothing at all. 

You take the ice cream from him before he has a chance to flop down on the bed. 

“Not exactly a nutritious meal,” you mutter around the spoon and he turns his face from the pillow to glare at you. 

“That’s the other dinner I made for you, so eat.” 

Your giggle is all you can give to show your thanks.

He rolls onto his back, groaning theatrically, before tucking his hand behind his head, and his fingers coming to rest on his stomach. 

Behind the lids of his eyes, he can feel you watching him.

“What?” He grumbles, feeling around for your foot to pinch your ankle. He hears you move so he knows he’s close. “Not the right flavor, princesa?”

“No,” you laugh and prod his hip with your toe. “It’s just . . .”

His eyes open, finding yours in the half-lit gloom. You’re grinning the spoon in your mouth, eyes bright with something unnameable. You shrug, eying his hand between you both.

“I just never knew Fransisco Morales could be domesticated.” 

He wipes the chocolate off your chin with his thumb.

Yeah, who knew?

[icysnails]

The Blade's Daughter story was so good ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Can I request a continuation, either directly or years after the incident, where reader meets and befriends Yanqing? No romance, just two tired kids ranting about their respective father figures.

A New Friend.

A/n: Hello!! Thank you so much, I’m so happy you liked it! (>v<) I decided to do bullet points for this one- I hope you enjoy, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Warnings: reader is a teen/around yanqing's age, mentions of anxiety/grief, mentions of family struggles/arguments, takes place directly after the Blade fic

Word count: 1.3k

Genre: fluff, a tiny bit of angst

Pairing: Yanqing x gn!reader (PLATONIC)

After fleeing the Stellaron Hunters’ ship, you began your old travel routines and quickly got transportation to a separate planet. You found a train that would take you directly off your current planet, which was a relief. But you were an anxious, fidgety mess for the entire ride, so much so that one of the other passengers in your car stopped by to ensure you were alright. You quickly nodded and looked back down at your lap, feeling too stressed out to try and make small talk. All that had happened over the last few months was playing again and again in your head, and you found yourself having second thoughts. Had you really made the right decision? Would you ever see your old family again? But even more, you wondered, were they ever really family to you in the first place? 

You hadn’t gotten any news about the Stellaron Hunters, and no signs of them searching for you either. Maybe this was it. Maybe they truly wanted you gone. You sighed and suffered in silence, the rumbling of the train you were on making the pang of grief in your stomach far worse. However, you were headed for the Xianzhou Luofu, a planet that was generally regarded as peaceful. Perhaps staying there for a while would calm your nerves. A relaxed schedule might be a nice change of pace, as well as a perfect way to plan your next moves. And, there would be a ton of new food for you to try- not a bad way to close off a horrifically stressful week.

Once the train had stopped, you grabbed your few belongings and trudged onto the platform. Using your expertise in navigation, you deciphered a tourist map on a nearby wall and made your way to the closest hotel you could find. You practically ran to your room once you paid for it, falling asleep on the bed almost immediately upon arrival. Unfortunately, your mind couldn’t rest even as sleep overtook you. Nightmares plagued your unconscious mind, shaking you awake no more than an hour after you had dozed off.

It all seemed hopeless, and all you wanted to do was cry. But you couldn’t do that either. You were too exhausted to tap into your own emotions, but too distraught to sleep. So, you concluded that there was only one thing left to do- eat. 

Soon enough, you found yourself at a nearby food stall, gulping down a few Berrypheasant skewers. Once you had finished, you went back to order a tea, but you realized that you didn’t have enough credits. You knew you had grown rusty when it came to traveling and budgeting, but you didn’t think you’d need to start taking commissions again so soon. However, before you could turn away from the stall, a blonde boy dressed in intricate blue and white robes handed you a bottle of the tea you wanted. Your eyes widened in confusion, and you tried to protest, but it was no use. The boy beat you to it entirely.

You offered him a seat at your table as thanks, stating that you could absolutely pay him back in a day or so. He just smiled softly and refused payment, but accepted the seat you offered him. 

You learned that his name was Yanqing, the prodigal swordsman who was training under Jing Yuan, the general for the entire planet. Your mouth fell open at his confession, apologies spilling from your mouth for treating him so casually, causing Yanqing to shake his head sheepishly and deny your apologies. He was only the General’s student after all. He had no greater status, and all he really wanted to do was learn and fight. 

Though you weren’t inclined to get attached to anyone anytime soon, you had to admit that he seemed kind, while still being honest and a little blunt. He was around your age as well, which was a plus. It was rare that you ran into anyone your age who was this composed and kind. You sort of admired him for that, even having just met him.

As you spoke, you revealed more about yourself to him. You mentioned that you had a hard time with family, even going as far as telling him a vague description of what had just taken place between you and Blade. It was out of character for you, but you were just so overwhelmed. This was the one time anyone had stopped to listen to you, and everything that had taken place just ended up rushing out. You never mentioned Blade’s true identity though- you didn’t want to get yourself into more trouble, and for some reason, you didn’t want to harm the Stellaron Hunters.

Yanqing’s gaze softened as you spoke. His situation wasn’t exactly the same, but he knew what it felt like to fight with family members. The closest family he had was Jing Yuan, who had been like a father to him ever since he was little. But the fact that the General was technically his boss complicated things quite a bit. Jing Yuan got protective over him often and was irritably calm most of the time. Yanqing wanted to learn, but Jing Yuan tried to keep him out of trouble as much as possible. As a young swordsman, Yanqing often felt inadequate or useless when idle, which led to him getting upset with the General for keeping him out of harm’s way. He wanted to be just like his father figure, to be of use to him. But the General wanted him to stay safe, even if he knew that was an impossible wish. It was inevitable, and the only way for Yanqing to grow and improve his skills.

You smiled for the first time that night, your own pleasant memories of Blade misting over your mind. Blade used to treat you that way too, in his typical discrete fashion. You used to look up to him so deeply and worked as hard as possible for his approval. Your situation practically mirrored Yanqing’s, save for a few circumstantial differences. Blade treated you like his own kin before everything fell apart. As closed off and brooding as he was, he still took care of you for a while. He still acted like he wanted to protect you. He was a crucial part of your life, and even if you hated him now, you couldn’t deny that he helped you grow into the person you were in the present.

Golden memories drifted from your lips in response to Yanqing’s bittersweet words, each syllable painting pictures of happier times. Times when you would train alongside Blade, or when you and the Stellaron Hunters would gather and go out to do something fun together. An unfamiliar light returned to your eyes as you spoke, and Yanqing found himself smiling as well. Though your old family went unnamed in the conversation, he could immediately tell how much they meant to you. Despite just meeting you, he couldn’t help but feel happy that you had such memories to look back on, even if it all ended in tragedy. He continued to listen attentively to you, sharing his own stories in between. Turns out both Blade and Jing Yuan were just as serious when it came to protecting their family, almost comically so, which made for some interesting stories.

But it was over now. None of it was real in the end. The light seemed to die in your eyes as you trailed off, your chest tensing up in anguish. Yanqing smiled sympathetically, letting the atmosphere fall awkwardly silent for a moment. But only a few minutes passed before a sudden chime came from Yanqing’s phone, breaking the heavy atmosphere that had fallen over you two. Yanqing’s wilted expression changed into one of frantic determination as he read over the text he got. He stood up and rambled apologetically, stating that he had to go because the General needed his help. 

However, before he rushed off to go help with his duties, he scribbled his number on the receipt for your tea, along with a little note.

Number: (xxx) xxx - xxxx 

Please reach out soon!! I’m sorry to cut things short- I’m not always occupied, so please don’t hesitate to call me if you're in need of a companion. I enjoyed speaking with you, and I really want to hear more about your travels! Good night!

- Yanqing

[eunxhan]

❝ But remember, in this game, there are no winners or losers. There's only survival and satisfaction. ❞

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Ꮺ 😪 Requested ⨾ HEY I looked at your profile and it’s literally so pretty, and you write for so many fandoms I’m literally dying…Now I wanted to ask for a ticci toby x male reader! Committing a crime together, covered in blood only to end up on the mansion/forest making out. Feel free to add horror, any amount of smut or anything you’d like. Thank you in advance and, is “😪” free for anon?

Ꮺ Eun Replies ⨾ I'm sorry for taking too long but thank you! I'm still not good at writing gore but I do added smut and I tried putting on violence..? But I hope this doesn't disappoint you ^^

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Ꮺ Disclaimer — NSFW AT THE END. If you're under the age of 16-18, I'm not responsible for what content you consume.

Reader & Genre ⨾ MALE!Reader, He/Him/His

Words used ⨾ 1,236 words 6,850 characters

Character ⨾ TOBIAS ROGERS (Ticci Toby), He's an adult here.

Art Credits ⨾ @/shatteredankles

Links ⨾ My Navigation and Mandates

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Toby is known to play tricks on people. While he has been known to steal things for his own amusement, he usually returns them later or pays for them with some form of "payment" like a practical joke back at the store owner. While Toby doesn't have a conscience, he has a sense of right and wrong, but it's based on what is funny, rather than what is morally correct.

Toby takes pleasure in playing harmless practical jokes on people, especially those who have wronged him. When Toby steals something, it is generally for fun and not for personal gain. His motivation is that he finds it amusing to see the reactions of the people who he is stealing from. He usually returns the items later, or replaces them with something else that is equally funny.

On the other hand, [M/N] is more of a thrill-seeker. He love taking risks and trying new things. How do he and Toby met? That's now on you, He's also very creative and can often find ways to get away with things that most people would never even think of. He tend to see stealing as a game, with the goal being to get as much as he can without being caught. [M/N] loves the adrenaline rush he get from stealing, and he often take items he doesn't even really want just for the thrill of it.

Both Him and Toby are quick on their feet and could easily escape into the forest. They might even have a secret hideout in the forest where they could hide out and plan their next adventure. Ticci Toby would probably enjoy the chase and try to make a game out of it, while [M/N] would be more focused on getting away as quickly as possible.

Toby would likely be both impressed and annoyed if [M/N] tried to one-up his game. He would be impressed because he appreciates cleverness and originality, but he would also be annoyed because he views stealing as a competition, and he wouldn't want anyone to be better than him at it. He would likely try to one-up him back, leading to a sort of back-and-forth battle between the two thieves.

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Toby and [M/N] had been stealing together for some time now, and they had developed a strong sense of competition with each other. They would often try to one-up each other, stealing bigger and better things than the other had, and would sometimes even bet small amounts of money on who could get away with the most valuable prizes. But despite their competitive spirit, they also loved to tease each other, taking any opportunity to make fun of each other's methods or techniques. This made stealing together a fun and exciting adventure for both of them, even if at times it could also be a bit intense and competitive.

Both are competitive as hell, They're a couple of teens and one of them is a literal killer. Their competitive instincts often led to them teasing each other to an extreme, pushing each other's buttons until all that was left was pure annoyance and anger. In these moments, they would often come very close to physical violence, but neither one wanted to actually hurt the other. Making Toby in a sour mood, He would mumble slurs against his breath whenever [M/N] "wins"

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Ꮺ ⨾ ONESHOT —

As they hurriedly made their escape from the store, they couldn't help but feel a competitive tension brewing between them. They found themselves in the forest, having just pulled off a daring heist and hiding out in some gross abandoned building. Their nerves were on end and they were both feeling the adrenaline from the excitement of the robbery. As they argued over who had been more responsible for the successful heist, they began teasing each other relentlessly, their words becoming more and more heated.

In the heat of the moment In the heat of the moment, the tension between Him and Toby reached a fever pitch. The air was thick with anticipation, and the dim light filtering through the broken windows cast eerie shadows on the decaying walls. Toby's heart raced as he glanced over at him, Toby's eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of him. The two thieves were standing inches apart, taunting each other, their eyes locked in a battle of wills. They felt the anger and resentment building between them, but neither one could seem to let go.

[M/N] 's breath tickled his skin, his words sending shivers down his spine. Toby could feel the heat radiating off his body, and he couldn't help but be drawn to him despite their rivalry. His mind raced as he tried to think of a clever retort, but before he could utter a word, [M/N]'s lips crashed into his. The force of the kiss left him breathless, him lips tingling with delight. Toby' S hands instinctively gripped [M/N] 's waist , pulling him closer to him as he kissed him back with fervor.

As their tongues danced together, exploring the depths of each other's mouths, [M/N] felt a fire ignite within him. He could feel the warmth spreading through hiz body, his core throbbing with desire. Toby'z hands began to explore his body, his fingers tracing the contours of the man's curves, sending shivers up his spine.

Toby pulled away slightly, his eyes locked with [M/N] as he spoke in a husky whisper, "You may be clever, but you're also right about one thing. I do want to see who can outlast whom in this game we're playing."

They continued to tease and provoke one another, Toby couldn't help but feel his heart race with anticipation. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with desire and competition. He could see the hunger in [M/N]'s eyes, the way his gaze lingered on his body, and it only fueled his own desires.

As they circled each other like predators, their hands grazed and brushed against one another, sending electric shocks through their bodies as well as both of them grinding on each other. [M/N]'S breath hitched as Toby's fingers lightly traced the curve of his waist, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. Their bodies pressed against each other, the heat between them almost unbearable.

"Wow.. Ha.. You couldn't get enough of me, do ya?" [M/N] whispered in between the kisses, Toby frowned hearing that and lunged forward, his lips capturing [M/N] once again in a searing kiss. the intensity of their passion was overwhelming. Toby's knees buckled, his body melting against [M/N] 's as he moaned into his mouth. His hands roamed freely over his body, exploring every curve, every inch of his skin.

As their kiss deepened, Toby felt an insatiable hunger grow within him. the kiss came to an end, Toby and [M/N] pulled apart, looking at each other with a mixture of fear and excitement in their eyes. They had both felt something they had never felt before, a connection that went beyond their petty competitions and the rush of stealing, Toby's eyes locked with [M/N]'s as he whispered, "You win this round, Reader. But the game is far from over.."

They have completely forgot about the food and drinks they stole, that was now on the ground..

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Ꮺ ⨾ I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING COPIED OR TRANSLATED.

[redrose10]

Chapter 11! Thank you for all the comments and messages. It is appreciated! I love hearing everyone’s theories.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,815

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag List: @gimeow @kam9404 @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

You swung open the door unaware of the information that had just been disclosed., “Alright guys, I got some pork and beef and a few different sides. I hope that’s enough. It smelled amazing in there so I think this will be good.”, you said closing the door behind you after returning from the restaurant. When you turned around you could tell the atmosphere felt different than what it was when you left. Yoongi was staring off into space while fidgeting with the hem of his tshirt and Jin seemed very jittery as well. You started unloading the food onto the table which Jin graciously thanked you for getting. He ate so quickly you were afraid he was going to choke. Yoongi on the other hand wouldn’t touch the food. Even when you grabbed the chopsticks and tried to feed him he shook his head and refused to eat.

“I’m going to go make a couple phone calls and see if we can get this all finally cleared up.”, Jin said before wiping his mouth with a napkin and walking out the door.

“So anything new happen while I was gone?”, you asked taking a bite of the food.

Yoongi felt the room spin again making him feel sick. All he could do was shake his head.

“Hey are you okay?”, you asked concerned with how much his demeanor had changed since you left. He gave you a tight lipped smile and nodded. You continued to eat in silence sneaking little peaks of him while he sat there picking at the skin on his thumb.

Eventually Jin came walking back in and sat down with a smile, “So as mentioned earlier the police are willing to cooperate with the cash payment and be forced to drop all charges against Yoongi. Now as far as Suri and Hwan are concerned they are willing to just drop everything as well as long as Y/N agrees to not press charges against Hwan for what happened at the auction.”

You pondered your options for a moment. You looked Yoongi over and noticed how pale he looked. The circles under his eyes somehow looked darker than they were when you left. You could only imagine how you looked. You were both exhausted physically and emotionally and just wanted to go home. You were also smart enough to know that Suri must have bigger plans and this was just some kind of a distraction or something.” As much as I’d hate to see that creep walk free I’m at the point where I just don’t want to talk about it any more and I just want it to be over with. So if that’s what gets us out of here then that’s fine but make sure he knows how much of a low life he is and if he ever comes anywhere near me or Yoongi again I promise that I won’t be so generous.”

Jin lightly chuckled and nodded, “I’ll let them know. I’m sorry that it came to this Y/N. I’m going to have Jimin give you a ride home as it’ll still probably be a couple hours for everything to get cleared with Yoongi, you know paperwork and boring stuff.”

You looked over at Yoongi to make sure he was going to be okay but he wouldn’t even look at you.

“Yoongi do you want me to stay? I really don’t mind.”, you asked secretly hoping he would say yes.

“You should go back to Jimin’s.”, was all he responded with his eyes still trained on a crack in the wall.

“Alright well call me if you need anything.”, you said to both of them but mostly Yoongi. Jin opened up the door for you with a smile and pointed to where Jimin was waiting down the hall so you could make your way there. After he made sure you found what you were looking for he turned his attention back to Yoongi.

“Look you have to keep it together. Y/N is smart. She’s going to know something is wrong right away if you keep acting like you’re on another planet.”

“What did Suri say?”

“She’s willing to give you one month to figure something out. After that she’s going to the media to announce she’s pregnant with your child and that you’ve completely abandoned.”

Yoongi scoffed, “I didn’t abandon her. She never even told me she was pregnant.”

“Yoongi are you sure you are the father? I mean is it possible that she’s lying? You did say you haven’t slept with her in a while. Does the timeline match up?”

“I mean we always used protection but you know things can happen. She’s an evil desperate woman so of course she could be lying as well. I don’t know any more. How far along is she?”

“Well according to this ultrasound it appears that she’s about twelve weeks at this point.”

Yoongi took a deep breath and groaned.

“So I’m guessing that means the baby could be yours.”, Jin wondered out loud.

“The last time was probably about twelve weeks ago. I don’t really remember at this point. Jin what am I going to do? I don’t want to loose Y/N. Not now. I was just starting to make some progress on getting her to give me a chance and I was really trying to earn her forgiveness. This is going to mess everything up.”

Jin chuckled, “Look I’m going to tell you this not as your lawyer not as a business partner but as your friend because I think you need a strong dose of reality. You have no one to blame for this mess but yourself. The day we met Y/N I told you to give her a chance. I told you she seemed like a sweet genuine person who would treat you right and be everything you needed. But did you listen? NoooOOOoo! You’re Min Yoongi and no woman is ever going to tie you down again all because one woman broke your heart years ago. You always have to prove that you’re unbreakable. You’ve continually broke Y/N’s heart over and over and she still looks at you with compassion and love. She still worries about you even though you don’t deserve any of it. Now it’s time for you to grow up and face your consequences and you should hope and pray that this baby isn’t yours and that Y/N will still be understanding once it’s all said and done. But for now let’s just keep this information between us. Hopefully we can somehow convince Suri to have a prenatal DNA test done and if we’re lucky the baby isn’t yours and Y/N will never have to know.”

“And if the baby is mine?”, Yoongi asked already fearing the answer.

Jin scoffed, “Well then let me be the first to congratulate you Min Yoongi. My gift will be in the mail.”

Jin packed up his briefcase, “I’m gonna do a final check and make sure you’re good to go. I’ll call you in the morning. Go home and try to get some sleep. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Yoongi watched as Jin’s broad shoulders made their way through the door. Not long after one of the officers came by and told him he was free to go so he grabbed his jacket and phone and went outside where a car was already waiting for him.

Just as he was about to get in the vehicle he heard the sound of heels hitting concrete and then someone spoke making his skin crawl and his ears burn.

“I told you that it wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of me.”

Yoongi groaned and turned around, “Really Suri? This is what you’ve come down to? You are a disgusting vile person.”

“Well if it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black. You’re no Prince Charming yourself Yoongi. I don’t remember you calling me vile when you were begging me not to stop as I was riding you in your bed while Y/N was in other room asleep or the time I was hiding underneath your office desk with your dick still in my mouth because Y/N came to surprise you with a lunch she made. You are just as vile as me, if not worse. I believe the word that Y/N used was despicable.”

“How do you know about that?”, he looked at her through narrow eyes.

“I have my ways Yoongi. I know a lot more than you think.”

“Fuck off Suri.”

“Is that any way to talk to the mother of your unborn child? Is that how you’d talk to Y/N if she was pregnant with your baby?”

Yoongi stared at her with disgust as a car pulled up behind her. She swung open the back door before turning to him, “You have 30 days Yoongi. 30 days to figure this all out or I go to the media and tell them about our soon to be little family.”

The car sped off leaving him to stand and stare before his own driver got out and asked if he was okay. Yoongi nodded and got in the backseat.

The next morning you woke up feeling exhausted and sore. Your headache was so bad that you even made some coffee hoping the caffeine would do the trick. Jimin was still asleep and you were glad for the silence. Checking your phone you found nothing exciting just a message from Yoongi letting you know he was home and to call him when you got up. You went to hit his contact when you remembered another important call you had to make. Scrolling through your phone you found the name you were looking for and clicked dial. It went to voicemail. You tried again but right to voicemail. Finally you just decided on a text.

You: Hey Namjoon, just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. I was shocked to see you at the police station last night. Just wondering what that was all about. Give me a call when you can!

You tossed the phone down on your bed as you had a feeling you wouldn’t be getting a response any time soon. You decided to take a shower and get ready before giving Yoongi a call. Once you finally dialed his number he picked up on just the second ring.

“Good morning Y/N, how are you feeling today?”

“Alright I guess. How are doing?”

“Not bad.”

There was a long silence before he continued,

“So umm Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. I have something I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh yeah sure. What time were you thinking?”

“About 6:00 if that works for you? That way we can eat and talk about some things and then you’ll be able to get back to Jimin’s before it gets too late.”

“Actually Yoongi, I was wondering if maybe I could move back in with you?”

Yoongi felt his heart skip a beat, “It’s up to you Y/N. This is your home too so you’re welcome back any time.”

“Okay great! I’ll see you later Yoongi.”

“Bye Y/N.”

Yoongi tried to fake a smile as he said goodbye. He never thought you’d ever want to willing move back to the home you shared. Unfortunately he knew that once he told you his news, you wouldn’t want to stay in the same room with him let alone live in the same home together.

Yoongi paced back and forth around the kitchen. He had tried to busy his mind all day by cooking an intricate dish he thought you’d like. He fixed his tie for probably the twentieth time. Was he too dressed up? Maybe he should’ve just went with jeans and T-shirt like he originally planned. He knew he put on a little too much cologne especially considering the history the two of you had with it. He took a peak at the clock to see if he had enough time to shower and change again when panic set in. It was twenty minutes after six and you were late. You were never late. He began running through every possible scenario.

What if you changed your mind? What if you found out about the baby before he could tell you? Oh my god what if Suri hired a group of assassins to find you and…?”

Before his mind could finish the thought he heard the door click open. Quickly he ran over breathing a sigh of relief as he found you taking off your jacket and hanging it on the rack. “Hi, Sorry I’m late. I stopped at that new bakery to get us some desserts and I think half of Seoul also had the same idea.,” you chuckled handing him the box of various pastries you had picked up. He noticed your bag sitting by the door causing his chest to ache. You really were prepared to move back in and he was going to chase you away again.

Once back in the kitchen he set the box down on the counter and went to ask you what drink you’d like when you surprised him by wrapping your arms around his torso squeezing him tight. You took a deep breath to inhale the familiar cinnamon and vanilla scent. A little stronger than usual but you had to admit that you kind of missed it in a weird messed up way.

“Hey are you okay?”, Yoongi asked concerned when you didn’t pull away.

“Yeah the last few weeks have just been a lot.”, you mumbled into his chest. He squeezed you a little tighter knowing that this was probably going to be the last hug he’ll ever get from you.

Once you pulled away with slightly blushed cheeks he invited you to take a seat at the table while he brought the food over.

Yoongi picked at as much of his food as he could stomach but he just tried to enjoy the moment with you knowing that as soon as he started talking things were going to take a turn for the worst. Even though Jin was adamant to not let you find out about the pregnancy right now, Yoongi didn’t want to hide anything from you any more. He barely slept all night, instead tossing and turning weighing his options but ultimately decided that it was best for you to find out from him personally instead of later on or god forbid from someone else entirely because he had no idea who else knew about his situation at this point.

“Hey are you okay? You seem really out of it?”, you asked pulling Yoongi from his thoughts. He nodded with a tight lip smile.

“You said you had something you wanted to talk about. Is that where your brain has been?”

Yoongi set his chopsticks down and took a big breath trying to calm his nerves. You noticed the slight shake to his hands which made your insides churn because this couldn’t be good news.

“Yoongi whatever it is just tell me. At this point there’s not much that will shock me.”

He chuckled to himself because you had no idea.

“Y/N, I don’t really know how to tell you this so I’m just going to come out and say it but I uh I might have gotten Su-“

Before he could finish your phone began to ring. The contact showing as Namjoon.

“I’m so sorry Yoongi but it’s Namjoon and I’m worried if I don’t answer it I won’t get in contact with him again. I want to find out why he was at the police station last night.”

Yoongi nodded and you picked up the phone greeting Namjoon a little more friendly than you probably should have. He couldn’t hear what was being said on Namjoon’s end but you seemed to get more and more upset the longer you were on the phone with him.

“Well yeah Namjoon I was just wondering why you were at the police station. It seemed a little suspicious given who you were with.”

*Silence*

“How did you meet her?”

*Silence*

“Mmhm and how long has that been going on?”

*Silence*

“Are you fucking kidding me? What do you mean Suri is pregnant?”

You glared over at Yoongi and he felt his stomach drop. Looks like the news was already broken to you.

“Okay text me the address. We’re on our way.”

You slammed your phone down on the table so hard you’re pretty sure you cracked the screen.

“That’s it. I’m gonna kill her. I can’t do it any more. She’s lucky she’s pregnant or I would go over there right now and strangle her myself.”you said pacing back and forth.

Yoongi looked at you wide eyed. He’d never seen you act like this and he was torn between being scared, being nervous, and also kind of liking it in a way.

You turned your attention back to Yoongi making him jump a little, “Come on Yoongi. We’re going to meet Namjoon at his sisters house. He said he has some important stuff to tell us about Suri and how he ended up getting her pregnant.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you maybe do a Wednesday and Enid x reader (platonic or romantic) where basically the reader comes from a very rich family and likes to spoil Wednesday and Enid.

(I hope this makes sense)

Is this what you wanted? Idk but I thought a headcannon format would be more sufficient for this but again idk. You tell me.

You spare no expenses when it came to Wednesday and Enid. You never bothered to try in fact because it didn’t really matter, as the money spent would eventually find itself back into your parents bank account anyways so why should you fret about accidentally crossing certain thresholds?

So when Wednesday’s typewriter starts having complications, hindering her writing time, you assured her that you would be able to get it fixed by the best people there was in fixing things. However it turns out that the typewriter was irreparably damaged and you had to buy Wednesday a new one that was personalised to be coated in a matte black colour and you even had her initials engraved on the front of it in gold cursive.

Wednesday may not have looked visibly thrilled at the new typewriter but her bland words of “I’m so ecstatic that my face can not comprehend how to convey it.” Were all you needed to know that she did in fact liked her new typewriter and began working on her book as though nothing ever happened. The next day you found a dead bird in front of your dorm, this was Wednesday’s way of saying ‘thank you.’

You even went out of your way to find enid a new part for her laptop when she complains to you that she couldn’t get anything do without it. So once again you went off to find the best shops available in Jericho that could help you in finding what you needed. Unfortunately due to it being the city of Jericho there weren’t a single good shop in sight that even had the part you needed in stock nor even in the back with the rest of the recent deliveries.

Typical.

With that you resorted to plan b and reached out online to shops elsewhere and ordered it for a next day delivery as to save yourself and enid the agonising waiting game. You even got her some other parts should this happen again but all of them were expensive and of state of the art manufacturing with the added promise of longevity and efficiency.

Enid was gobsmacked when she learnt that you did this all for her. “How can I pay you back for doing this for me?” She would ask but all you told her was that you didn’t need to be paid back for as long as she was happy and that the part was doing it’s job smoothly without any hitches, then that’s all the payment you desired.

This didn’t stop at fixing and or replacing their broken stuff but it also extended to their birthdays where you got enid more squishmellows for her growing pile, top of the range designer clothing that you’d knew she would look stunning in, new sets of nail polish, moisturisers, makeup and some new fairy lights should her current ones light their final night.

For Wednesday it was a little more trickier as she hated her birthday being celebrated in the traditional sense that you and enid were brought up with and instead you bought her an actual guillotine that she had set up next to her cello outside on the balcony of Ophelia Hall, dissection kits, things to keep her cello in top condition, some dark flowers that didn’t require much caring for, pacidermy animals much to Enid’s dismay as Wednesday would always seemingly have them face her whenever she said something that Wednesday wasn’t particularly fond of.

When Wednesday and enid try to repay you on your generosity, enid worries that due to your upbringing, you would be expecting diamonds, gold and the such thrown at your feet but Wednesday told her that she was exaggerating and that yes, you were born into an extremely wealthy family but the addams noted that you have a preference for the smaller things. So out they went to Jericho and chose a couple of things that they thought you’d might like.

Enid got you some cute toys that she though would add to your dorm along with getting you a matching snood with her and Wednesday that you could all wear to class together. Wednesday got you a necklace with a dead crow with a black Dalia sprouting from it’s heart with some of it’s crystal feathers dotted here and there up the silver chain as to give off the impression that this crow was shot out of the sky. She also got you some uncouth stuff like a hand mace or an taser for self defence for when people who couldn’t get the hint.

She wouldn’t admit it but even Wednesday was a little nervous that you might not like what they got you. However she didn’t have to continue putting belief into that thought as your eyes light up at each and everything that she and Enid got you that by the end of it you looked to both of them with the widest grin they’ve ever seen. “Thank you both so much! I love everything you’ve given me! Nobody’s given me things that I actually like!”

“What do you mean by that y/n?” Enid asks, confused.

“My parents think that splashing their money on expensive stuff for me is what I want but it’s not, I could care less about having the state of the art phone, tv, clothes, none of that matters to me but it seems that to them, that’s all that matters is to not only be rich but look rich too…so when they started putting large sums of money into my bank account, I spent it on the things that I want, on the clothes that I felt good in rather then what they think I’d look good in for their reputation. So I thank you both for these,” you told them as you squeezed one of the plushies Enid bought you close to your chest, “I love them a lot.”

“Even the taser?” Enid asked as Wednesday stared at her

You chuckled, “yes, even the taser. After all you can never be too sure when a creep is nearby.” You looked to Wednesday who’s lips almost uplifted into a proper smile but came back down into it’s neutral state just seconds later.

[sinkovia]

Coffee Shop: Final Part

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee shop Masterlist

One year time skip...

You were curled up next to Simon, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the cozy living room. Riley, was sleeping contentedly on his plush bed nearby.

“Sweetheart?” Simon's voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Yeah?” You turned your gaze to him, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

“Let’s move in together.” 

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt a rush of excitement and joy flood through you.

"Really? Like actually?" your voice filled with disbelief and happiness.

Simon's gaze met yours, his expression serious yet tender. He reached out, cupping your cheek with his hand, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

"Dead serious, love," he affirmed. "We already spend the night at each other's houses all the time, I think it would be a step in the right direction… but only if you're ready love."

You leaned into his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch. His lips met yours in a soft, reassuring kiss.

"No pressure, sweatheart" he added, his voice filled with sincerity. "If you're not ready, I understand."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Cupping his face in your hands, you looked into his eyes, your heart overflowing with love.

"Si, I've been beating myself up the entire week trying to figure out how to ask you. Of course, I would love to," you confessed, a wide smile spreading across your face.

Simon's eyes grew with happiness as he returned your smile, his lips meeting yours in another soft kiss. 

“Wait, what about your house? Are you renting or buying?” you asked, your brows furrowing with concern.

Simon let out a sigh, running a hand over his face. “Bloody hell, I’m buyin,” 

You thought for a moment, considering his options. “Are any of your friends looking for a house?” you suggested, hoping to find a solution.

Simon leaned back, contemplating your suggestion. “Kyle mentioned settling down a few times,” he mused, his fingers tracing absent-minded circles on your leg.

“Maybe he could move into the house and pay you the monthly payments until the house is fully paid off,” you proposed, the idea forming more clearly in your mind.

Simon's gaze softened as he considered your proposal. “That could work, I could talk to him about it. See if he’s interested.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Leaning into Simon's comforting presence, you rested your head in his lap as he gently massaged the back of your neck.

That night, Simon called Gaz and had a lengthy conversation with him on the phone, discussing the details of the plan you had suggested.

Gaz agreed that it was a perfect arrangement. He loved the area and the house, and he had been considering settling down but hadn't found the right place until now. The prospect of living just a few houses down from his friend and his lovely girlfriend was perfect.

A few weeks later, Kyle flew into town with Johnny. As you heard a knock on your door, you hurriedly walked over, peeking through the peephole and breaking into a wide smile when you saw the two familiar faces. Opening the door, you greeted them with open arms.

"It’s so nice to see you guys again," you exclaimed, wrapping your arms tightly around both of them.

"Ah, it's good to see you too, lass! Is Simon treating you well?" Johnny joked, a playful glint in his eye.

You laughed and motioned for them to come inside. "He's the best," you replied sincerely.

Riley bounded up to Kyle, jumping up and licking his face enthusiastically. "You missed me, bud? You gonna see me around a lot more," Kyle laughed, scratching behind Riley's ears as he wagged his tail happily.

Simon emerged from the room and greeted the boys. You watched fondly as they moved over to the couch to catch up. Meanwhile, you busied yourself in the kitchen, arranging the pastries you had baked the day before onto a plate. With a satisfied smile, you carried the plate over to the table and set it down.

"Oh, y/n, ya spoil us," Johnny remarked, his eyes lighting up as he reached for a pastry and took a bite.

"Yer have any friends who bake as well as you do?" he asked between bites.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I don't really have friends, but my coworker makes some mean cookies. I could hook you up with her if you don't mind that she's in her fifties."

"Give me her number, lass. I don't mind milfs," Kyle laughed, patting Johnny's back as he nodded eagerly.

You laughed and shook your head as you made your way back to the kitchen to pour some tea. After pouring the tea into mugs, you carried the tray back to the table, where Kyle wasted no time in grabbing a cup. 

Smiling, you settled down on the single sofa next to them, enjoying the warmth of their company. The conversation flowed easily as you caught up and indulged in the pastries.

After spending around an hour talking and laughing, you all rose from the table, ready to head over to Kyle’s new home. You and Simon had spent the last couple of days clearing it out, moving the few things he had into your home. 

Simon handed Kyle the keys, and he unlocked the door, smiling at his new home. As you peeked outside and noticed no moving truck or boxes, you couldn't help but ask, "When is the moving truck coming? Or did you ship all your belongings here?"

Kyle awkwardly laughed and scratched the back of his neck, "The suitcase has all my belongings in it. I usually stayed on base or in apartments, so I don't have any furniture."

You glanced at Simon and smiled, he shook his head knowing what you were about to say, “Bloody hell sweetheart.” you only laughed and pulled up a picture of Ross on your phone.

"I know this amazing store that has everything you could possibly need for your house for a really good price."

Simon patted Kyle’s back, chiming in, "Trust me, mate, she isn't joking."

And so, the four of you got into Simon's car and drove down to Ross. As soon as you entered the store, Kyle and Johnny wandered off with wide eyes, marveling at everything. You and Simon grabbed a cart for Kyle, following him around.

He led you to the furniture aisle, where you helped him select a nightstand, some bar stools, a coffee table, and a few lamps, all of which found their way into the cart.

"Are you more of a movie or book person? This bookshelf looks nice," you remarked, pointing to a sleek black three teir bookshelf. Kyle wasted no time adding it to the growing collection in the cart. You laughed, and Simon shook his head in amusement.

"Do they have dining tables here?" Kyle turned and asked as you both walked into the decor aisle. "They sometimes do, but I think they're sold out. Simon actually has a dining table and a large sofa he bought last year when he moved in. We were going to donate them, but you could keep them if you like," you suggested.

"Sounds perfect," he flashed a grateful smile as he continued to browse through the aisle, picking out items for his coffee table and some basic decor. You helped him pick a few candles before wandering off to find Johnny, leaving Kyle to explore the store further.

You made your way to the food section and spotted Johnny with a cart filled with food, snacks, and toys for Riley. Just as you were about to approach him, you noticed him talking to a girl. Trying to appear nonchalant, you pretended to look at some pesto sauce on the shelf nearby.

You overheard her asking Johnny if he was from around the area, and he mentioned he was from Scotland, just visiting.

"Really? My parents are actually from Scotland," the girl exclaimed.

"No way, lass. Where are they from?" Johnny replied, his face lighting up with interest. She shared her family's origins, and Johnny seemed surprised to learn that her town was only a few minutes away from his own.

Simon came into the isle and was about to interrupt when you grabbed his hand and harshly yanked him towards you. 

“Love what’s wrong-“ you quietly shushed him and motioned towards Johnny. Simon picked up a box of crackers and pretended to read it as he listened in.

"Could I give you my number?" the girl asked, and you exchanged a glance with Simon.

"I'd be a damn fool to say no, lassie," Johnny replied with a grin.

After she wrote her number down and left the aisle, you and Simon approached Johnny, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Thought you were into milfs," you teased, earning a laugh from him.

"She's from Scotland, can you believe that?" he shared with excitement. You smiled and nodded.

"I'm happy for you, Johnny. I hope things work out with her," you said, giving him a supportive pat on the back. Johnny's smile widened, and he thanked you sincerely.

"Thank you, lass. Means a lot," 

You glanced into Johnny's cart and noticed an array of snacks, including a bag of dried bananas. Simon couldn't help but comment, holding up the bag with disdain. 

"Bloody hell, Johnny, you actually eat this?" 

"Dried bananas are good, L.t.," 

Simon shook his head in disbelief. "Out your damn mind, Johnny. Looks like chicken shit."

Johnny just laughed and grabbed a bag of beetroot chips. "These beetroot chips are amazing too, and look at the price! Can't believe I've never heard of Ross. Wish they had this back home."

You picked up a jar of pasta sauce from Johnny's cart and inspecting it with a grin. 

Hopefully, he doesn't get sick; there's no expiration date on the jar.

Simon went off to find Kyle, while you made your way to the pet aisle to browse for new collars for Missy and Riley.

Simon texted you that they were at the register up front and asked you to grab Johnny on your way there. You searched the food aisle but couldn't find him, so you wandered through the store until you spotted him in the clothing section.

"Find some clothes you like?" you asked, amused, as he showed you a "Scotland Forever" shirt.

"Yeah, can you believe they had this in clearance?" he exclaimed, showing off the find.

You laughed, "Yeah, I can actually.”

“It was the only one and in my size. I call it fate."

"Simon and Kyle are up front paying if you wanna show them your new find. I'm sure they'll love it," 

Heading to the front, you used the self-checkout since you only had two items. Afterward, you stood next to Simon, showing him the new collars you'd picked up for Missy and Riley.

"Those are nice, sweetheart," Simon said, planting a kiss on the top of your head and wrapping his arm around you as you waited for Johnny to finish paying.

Once everyone was done, you all piled into the car, and Simon made a quick stop at the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner.

Simon glanced at his watch. "I'll be back in twenty minutes," 

You all hummed in acknowledgment, and as he left,  you pulled out your phone and turned towards the boys in the back seat. "Wanna play 'What am I?’" 

Johnny sat up, intrigued. "How do you play?"

"I'll lift my phone and put it up to my forehead," you explained, "and you guys have to give me vague words on what I am. No sounds, only descriptions. Whoever guesses what they are in under thirty seconds gets a point."

Kyle leaned in, his interest piqued. "What do we get if we win?"

You hummed in thought. "Tea and pastries from the cafe on me."

"Oh, you're on," Kyle rubbed his hands together and smiled.

As Simon grabbed the items he needed to make burgers and jalapeno poppers, he quickly checked out and walked back to his car. But as soon as he opened the door, he was met with chaotic yelling from you and the boys inside.

"You stab people!" Johnny exclaimed.

"Michael Myers?" you guessed.

"You kill people while they sleep!" Kyle yelled.

"RICHARD RAMIERIZ!" You yelled out pointing your finger.

"YOU KILL KIDS LASS!" Johnny screamed as he waved his hands back and forth.

"JOHN WAYNE GACEY!?" You yelled out with a smile while Kyle shook his head and tried to make stabbing hand motions towards Johnny.

"KNIVES FOR FINGERS!" Johnny clapped his hands.

"FREDDY—" You were about to say freddy krueger, but the timer on the phone rang out, cutting you off. You sighed in frustration, realizing you needed one more point to win since you were tied with Johnny.

"I won! You bloody keeches," Johnny declared triumphantly, using a term you had never heard before.

"What kind of explanations were those? You cheater!" you retorted.

"Aye, I may be a killer, but I ain't no cheater," Johnny protested. "And who the hell is John Wayne Gacy?" Kyle sat in the back, laughing at the argument between you and Johnny, while Simon stood half in the car and half out, wearing a confused expression on his face.

Simon finally sat down in the car and closed the door, handing Kyle the grocery bags. "What in the hell are you lot arguing about?" he asked, bemused, as you pointed your finger at Johnny, accusing him of cheating at the game you were playing. Johnny, in turn, pointed his finger at you, claiming he won fair and square.

Simon just shook his head and smiled the entire way home while the two of you continued to go back and forth. His life was good, and he couldn't ask for more, even as he listened to the playful bickering in the car.

When you arrived at Kyle’s house, you helped unload the car and set everything in the living room.

Simon pulled you into the hallway while Kyle and Johnny were taking everything out of the bags. His hand went to your cheek, and he gently pressed his lips to yours.

“I love you, sweetheart,” 

You smiled, leaning into his touch and bringing your hand up to rest over his. “I love you too, Si,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his affection.

Simon's heart swelled every time he heard those words from you or the affectionate nickname you used. You had changed his outlook on life, bringing a sense of fulfillment he hadn't known before.

Both of you were smiling as you walked back into the living room. Kyle was rearranging his furniture while Johnny washed the new pots and pans he had bought.

“Are you going to start on dinner?” you asked Simon, looking up at him.

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll have Johnny help me. Maybe you can help Kyle?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” you agreed, eager to lend a hand.

You spent the next hour helping Kyle arrange things, offering opinions on placements, and helping him move furniture around to find the perfect setup. Meanwhile, Johnny and Simon were in the kitchen, cooking up some burgers and jalapeño poppers.

After all the rearranging was done, you and Kyle sat down on the couch with a sigh, admiring the work you had accomplished together.

“You know, you have good style,” you remarked, breaking the silence.

“Thanks, y/n. I appreciate you helping me out,” He replied, smiling. 

You returned his smile and sat up, “Of course, I had a lot of fun.”

“Can you help set the table, love?” Simon called out from the kitchen, and you nodded, getting up and walking over to assist. You grabbed the new plate set Kyle had bought and arranged them on the table, while Kyle fetched the silverware and napkins. Johnny joined in, bringing over a pitcher of lemonade to complete the table setting.

The atmosphere around the table was lively as you all dug into the delicious spread laid out before you. Plates filled with juicy hamburgers and crispy jalapeño poppers adorned the table, and the aroma of the sizzling food filled the air.

You took a bite of the burger and couldn't help but let out a satisfied sigh. "These burgers are amazing, Si. You've really outdone yourself," you said, casting a warm smile in Simon's direction.

Simon grinned proudly at your compliment. "Thank you, love." he replied, a hint of satisfaction evident in his voice.

Meanwhile, Kyle turned his attention to the jalapeño poppers, his curiosity piqued. "How did you make these poppers? They're pretty damn good,"

Johnny grinned proudly, "Glad you like them. You know, I've got a secret recipe for those poppers."

Kyle laughed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I still can't believe you know how to cook. It's like finding out a lion knows how to knit."

"Hey, don't underestimate my culinary skills. I'm a man of many talents." Kyle rolled his eyes and turned to you.

“Johnny tried baking something at the base, and let me tell you, it smelled like something bloody died."

"That was my scotch pie, and it was good."

Kyle raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "Scotch pie? Never heard of that. Sounds like typical Scottish mystery food to me."

Johnny shot back with a laugh. "Oh, please. And here's a Brit talking about mystery food. Ye have beans on toast as a delicacy, and your national dish is curry. And don't even get me started on your lack of seasonin." You and Kyle laughed out, while Johnny smugly smiled knowing he won the argument.

As Simon sat around the table with you, Kyle, and Johnny, a sense of contentment washed over him. The sound of laughter filled the air, mingling with the aroma of the food and the warmth of your presence. He watched as you and Kyle engaged in conversation, your laughter ringing like music to his ears.

In that moment, Simon's gaze drifted to you, his heart swelling with affection. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he admired the way you lit up the room with your presence. He couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for having you in his life, for the love that had blossomed between you.

Never in his wildest dreams had Simon imagined himself sitting at this table, surrounded by the woman he loves and his closest friends and teammates. It was a surreal moment, one that filled him with a profound sense of happiness and fulfillment.

As he looked around at the faces of those he held dear, Simon felt a deep sense of peace wash over him. He was grateful for the life he had built, for the bonds he had forged, and for the love that had transformed his world.

The love he feels for you radiates from his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the happiness you bring into his life. Despite the challenges and uncertainties he faces as a soldier, in this moment, everything feels right.

In that moment, Simon couldn't ask for more. He was content, he was at peace, and he was in love. And as he savored the company of the people he cared for most, he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[winchesterwild78]

A Home and a Heart

Master List

Characters: Jack Durfy x Reader

Warnings: Language, Inappropriate propositions, angst, injury

A/N: Just a quick story, not too long. Maybe two or three chapters. I haven’t seen Buddy Games, but I did Google the character. I know he wasn’t in the movie long, but we can always use our imagination.

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life or the movie in any way. 

Please do not take my work, reblogs are appreciated.

Minors DNI 18+

The rain drummed against the roof, echoing through the small, cramped house. You sighed, your heart heavy with worry. You had been trying to keep your head above water, but it seemed the problems just kept piling up. The leaky roof, the faulty stove outlet, and the crumbling front steps were more than you could handle.

You were a single mother to a very active 3 year old boy, Tommy. He was the light of your life, but it was also exhausting doing everything alone. Tommy’s father ditched you the minute he found out you were pregnant, and you haven’t heard from him since. 

Your family and best friend have been an amazing support for him and you. When you had to work late at the hospital, they would watch him and help take care of him. 

Being so fiercely independent, you refused to tell them just how bad the repairs needed really were. Your best friend, Abby, knew. She offered to help you, but you refused. She had just had a baby and she and her husband were trying to build their nest egg. You couldn’t take money from them. 

Desperate, you reached out to local handymen for help. The first one showed up in a fancy new truck. He walked around your home and took notes, he went on the roof and when he came down he handed you a quote for $15,000. Your eyes almost popped out of your head. “Well, thank you so much for coming out. I’ll let you know.” He nodded and got in his truck and left. 

The other quotes were any better. None of the companies were willing to set up payments with you. Even though you had a steady job and amazing credit they said they weren’t willing to make arraignments for such a large amount. 

The last two contractors were far worse. You showed Joe in and he walked around. He started to head towards your bedroom, “Um, excuse me, there isn’t anything in there that needs repairing.” He turned and walked over to you, “Oh not yet, darlin’, but I’m sure you can’t pay so we can work something out.” His hand brushed against your breast. 

“ I think you should leave.” “Ah don’t be like that. I know you’re lonely and need more than just your house worked on.” You were fuming, “Leave, NOW!” 

He grabbed his stuff and left. You were starting to feel hopeless. You called Abby, “Hey Abbs. I don’t know what to do. I’ve called every handyman I can find and they are either too high, won’t do a payment plan, or they try to sleep with me. I need to give Tommy a safe place to live. I don’t want to walk away from this house. It’s mine and it’s something I’m proud of having.”

 Abby offered a sympathetic ear, “I know honey. Maybe you can try and call Jack Durfy. He owns Durfy Construction, he can be a bit of an ass, but I know he’s got a kind heart. When John got laid off a few years ago, Jack had him come work for him so he could make some money.” “I didn’t know that. I’ll give him a call, thanks Abbs.” 

Jack owned Durfy Construction, and though he had a reputation for being gruff, you were willing to give him a chance. You called him up and asked him to come by for a consultation. “Mr Durfy, my friend Abby Smith told me to call you. I own a small home and it’s in need of some urgent repairs. I’m going to be honest with you so I’m not wasting your time, I’m a single mom on a fixed income. I’d be willing to set up a payment plan if you were open to it.” “Well, let me come out there and take a look. I’ll let you know.”

The next morning you saw Jack driving down your driveway in his big truck. Tommy was standing at the door, jumping up and down seeing the truck. “Truck, mommy, truck!” You scooped up the toddler, “Yes baby I see it’s a truck. Mr. Durfy is here to see if he can help fix the house. 

Jack walked up the stairs and noticed how broken they were. You greeted him with a warm smile and an extended hand, “Hello Mr Durfy, thank you for coming by. I really appreciate it.” He shook your hand, “Hello Ms Y/L/N, it’s nice to meet you, and who’s this little guy?” He ruffled Tommy’s hair. Your toddler squealed in delight, “I’m Tommy.” “Well, hello Tommy. Want to show me the house buddy?” Tommy nodded excitedly. You smiled softly.

As Jack inspected the house, he discovered even more problems than you had initially realized.

“So Ms, Y/L/N, besides the roof, front steps, and stove outlet, I unfortunately found some other things that need attention as soon as possible. The foundation is cracked by your bedroom, and the main bathroom has a leak into the walls. That’s going to require a complete demolition of the bathroom, so we can dry out the wall and replace everything.” 

Tears pricked your eyes. “Oh wow. I definitely got screwed over when I bought this place. I never should have bought it.” The tears started to fall. You wiped them away quickly, “I’m sorry Mr. Durfy. How much will all of this cost me? 

“Well, first, please call me Jack, and I can do it all for about $5,000.” You sat and looked at him in disbelief, “I’m sorry, what? $5,000? That’s it? Please Mr. Durfy, I mean Jack, please tell me the full price.” 

“That is the full price. I don’t take advantage of people and I own all of my own equipment and have all the material needed for the repairs already. I tell you what, if you’d agree to do something for me I’d be willing to do the repairs at no cost.”

“You know what, I’m tired of men thinking I’d spread my legs for them to get repairs done.” “Whoa! What? Y/N, I’m not asking you to sleep with me. Jesus. What kind of man do you think I am? Shit!” 

Your face turned red with embarrassment, “Jack I’m so sorry. The last guy I had here tried to get me to sleep with him to do the repairs. I am so sorry. I understand if you want to leave.”

“Let me guess, Joe Collins?” “Yes, how did you know?” “The guy is a douchebag. He tries to jack up his rates and then sleeps with women to get them lower.” “That’s disgusting.” “Yeah it really is.”

“So, like I was saying, I work really late at night, sometimes I just sleep in the office trailer. It’s been years since I’ve had a home cooked meal, and I know you can cook. Abby told me. (he smirked) So if you’d be willing to cook some meals for me, I’d be willing to do the repairs for you. Of course I might need Tommy’s assistance with tools and stuff, if that’s okay with you.”

“Wow, that’s really generous of you. I know Tommy would love to help you with tools. I doubt you’d get the right one you needed, but he’d try. Sure, I’ll cook for you. Are you allergic to anything or have any dietary restrictions?”

“Nope, I’m not a pansy. I like meat and eat junk, so I’m good for anything.” “Having allergies and dietary restrictions don’t make you a pansy.” You chuckled. 

A few days later you were woken up by the sound of walking on the roof. You looked over at the clock and it was a little after 6am. You grumbled and grabbed your robe. Walking outside you stepped into the yard, “Um, since when did we agree to you coming at the crack of dawn to start working?” 

Jack looked down at you and chuckled, “Sorry sweetheart, there is rain coming in later and we wanted to get this roof pulled off and the new one laid before it comes in.” 

“Ugh! Fine. Wait, I just needed a repair, not a whole new roof.” Jack looked down at you, “The repair area was just too big. It makes more sense to just do a new roof.” “Okay, well I’ll be in the house trying to sleep. I have a shift in a few hours.” 

“Sweet dreams” Jack chuckled. You lazily waved and climbed up the stairs and went inside. Abby had taken Tommy to her house for the night, so you grabbed your earphones, turned on some white noise and went back to sleep. 

A few hours later your alarm went off and you got out of bed. Hearing the hammering overhead you figured they were already laying the new roof. Dang they work fast. You went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Waiting for the water to heat up, you went into the kitchen and started your coffee. You made extra for Jack and the guys working with him. 

Jumping in the shower you cleaned yourself and your hair. You finished getting ready for work then went into the kitchen and started cooking something to eat. You figured Jack and the other guys were hungry, so you whipped up something filling for them too. 

You ate quickly and grabbed your cup of coffee. Grabbing your bag you went outside and got Jack’s attention. He climbed down from the roof, “Hey, I hope we were as quiet as we could be.” “Oh I put in my earbuds, I didn’t hear anything but the soothing sounds of the ocean.” Jack chuckled. 

“So I’m heading out to work, I left the front door unlocked for you. I made you guys something to eat and some coffee if you’re hungry. All I ask is you guys stay out of my underwear drawer.” Jack chuckled, “Now where’s the fun in that. You know you learn a lot about someone by the underwear in their drawer.” You looked at Jack unamused. He threw his hands up in defeat, “Sorry, I was just kidding. We don’t go through people’s things. You can trust us. Thanks for cooking, you didn’t have to.” “Yes I did, I thought that was our arrangement.” “Yes, but only for me. I can’t have you spoiling my guys.” 

You smiled and touched his chest. “Don’t worry, I’ll save the good stuff for you.” Your fingers lingered on his chest for a few minutes. His chest was so toned and firm. Your breath quickened. Jack’s heart started pounding, he liked your hand on his chest. 

You cleared your throat, “Well have a good evening, Jack. I’ll see you later.” “Yeah, bye, Y/N, have a good shift, and thanks for the food.” You waved and nodded as you climbed in your car. 

Driving to work all you could think about was Jack. His piercing green eyes, his smile, his bowed legs perfectly hugged by his blue jeans, his toned chest, and his whiskey silky voice. You hadn’t realized your face had flushed or that you were biting your lip until you put your car in park at work. 

You took a deep shaky breath before getting out. This attraction to Jack came out of nowhere. You really need to get it under control since he’ll be working at your house. 

A few hours into your shift you walked into a patient's room to check on them before they were discharged. That’s when you heard a familiar voice coming from the room next door. 

“The nurse will be right with you sir. I’m just the triage nurse.” She walked out of the room and handed you the chart, “This one is a little grumpy. He keeps complaining he doesn’t have time for this shit.” 

You snorted, “Okay, thanks for the heads up.” You looked at the chart and softly gasped. Jack Durfy, Male, 46 years old. 

Of course this happens. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Come in” you heard his gruff voice say. 

As soon as Jack saw you his eys softened. “Well, hey sweetheart.” You smiled and blushed a little, “Jack, what happened?” 

“It was stupid, I got distracted and fell off the roof. I think I broke a rib and I sliced my hand pretty good.” 

“Oh my god, Jack! Okay let me see the hand first.” 

You removed the temporary dressing and looked at his hand. Taking his large, calloused hand in yours sent a shiver through your body and straight between your thighs. Your breath quickened. 

Swallowing hard, “You’re going to need stitches. I’m going to clean the wound and get the sutures on it.” Jack just nodded. 

As you cleaned his wound and stitched him up, he watched you, completely mesmerized by you. The way your fingers brushed over his skin, like a delicate dance, only the two of you were invited to. 

You bit your lip as you worked. Your eyes flicked up to his, God he’s got gorgeous green eyes. And his lips look so plump and soft. 

“Okay, all patched up. X-ray will be here to take you in a few minutes. Hopefully nothing is broken.” Your hand lingered on his for a few moments. “Hey, Y/N, thank you.” He touched your hand as you started to walk away. 

You smiled and nodded. A few minutes later they came to take him away to get his x-rays done. 

You sent Abby a text. 

You: Girl, Jack got injured and he’s here right now. I just finished working on him. 

Abby: Mmm is that what it’s called now. 😝 

You: Girl, stop. 😂 

Abby: He’s single, you’re single, he’s hot, you’re hot. 

You: No I’m not, girl stop. There is no way he’d be interested in me, an frompy, single mom. 

Abby: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re amazing, beautiful and a kick ass mom. Anyone would be lucky to have you. 

You: Thanks, Abbs. Well he’s back from x-ray. Gotta go. Give Tommy a kiss for me. 

Abby: Will do, go give Jack a big kiss, make his boo boos all better. 😘 

You: Yeah right. 🙄 

Your face flushed a little with Abby’s texts. You walked back into his room. “So now we wait for the doctor to read the film and he’ll tell us what to do next. Jack, I can’t believe you fell off the room. You could have been killed. I’m so glad you’re okay.” You touched his shoulder. 

His eyes sparkled under the harsh lights of the ER, “Me too, not sure what happened. I was just distracted and lost my footing. It was stupid.” 

The doctor came in a few minutes later, “Mr Durfy, I don’t see broken ribs, they are however bruised really bad. I’m going to have Ms. Y/L/N to wrap it pretty good for you. Keep it on unless you absolutely need to take it off, like to shower. Do you have someone who can help you wrap it tight again?” 

Jack looked up and was about to say no, but you nodded yes. “Um, yeah I guess I do.” “Great, then I’ll let you get wrapped up and we can discharge you. Ms. Y/L/N, wrap him tight and get him ready to go home.” You nodded, “Yes, sir. Mr. Durfy, I’ll be right back with the wrap and your discharge papers.” Jack nodded and you walked out.

Coming back in with the wrap and his papers you took a deep breath. “Okay, Jack I, um, need you to remove your shirt.” Jack took his shirt off and you let out a soft gasp. He was so toned, and being this close to him made you quiver between your thighs.

“This might hurt a bit, but let me know if it’s unbearable.” Jack nodded and you got to work. “Lift your arms slightly for me.” You started to wrap the bandage around his torso. You noticed goosebumps erupt on his skin as you wrapped his ribs. You leaned around him and your chest was flush with his as you reached around to wrap around his back. 

As you stood back up, you stopped and Jack placed his fingers lightly on your chin. “You’re incredible, you know that?” You blushed, “Thank you.” “I mean it, you are amazing at your job, you’re a kick ass mother, and you’re so beautiful.” 

“Jack, I, um, don’t know what to say.” He smiled softly at you, “You don’t have to say anything, darlin’.” Jack’s fingers brushed against your face, you leaned into his touch, instinctively. 

“What would you do if I told you I wanted to kiss you?” You softly chuckled, “I’d ask if you hit your head when you fell.” “I didn’t, and I’m serious. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I met you.” 

You bit your lip and took a deep breath, “Well, then do it.” You couldn’t believe you told him to kiss you. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt like you were going to pass out. 

Jack leaned in closer to you, your lips inches from each other. Your breath hitched. Jack softly pressed his lips to yours and you pressed yours to his. 

The kiss was soft and tender, not rushed or needy. As you two pulled back, his hand held onto your arm for a few minutes. 

“That was so good. I can’t wait to do it again.” He smiled at you. “Me either, Jack.” So he leaned in and placed his lips to yours, this time the kiss was deeper. He put his hand in your hair and pulled you between his legs. His tongue swiped across your lips, asking for entrance. You parted your lips and Jack deepened the kiss more. You moaned into his mouth.

The kiss was incredible, sending chills through your body. When the two of you finally pulled apart, you both smiled at each other. “Well, Mr. Durfy, you should head home to rest. I’ll see you later.” He smiled, “Yeah, I’ll see you after your shift. I need to go finish up some stuff before I call it a day. You shook your head, “Jack, please go home and rest. Whatever it is can wait.” 

Jack got off the table and grabbed his shirt, putting it on, “I’ll think about it.” He placed another soft kiss on your lips and smirked. 

“I’m never going to stop kissing you, I hope you know that.” “Good, because I don’t want you too. I’ll see you later, Jack.” “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” 

With that, Jack grabbed his things and left the ER. You were left finishing your shift, thinking about the shared kiss and what it will mean for your future. You hoped it meant the beginning of something wonderful, but you were still guarded, and not just for your sake, but for Tommy. Only time will tell for sure.

Part 2….Coming Soon

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[juiceicicles]

Mean and Scary | Chapter 1: King of Hawkins High

AO3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48053206/chapters/121165750

Pts: 1, 2, 3

As he traipses through the woods, Eddie tries to get a bearing on what is about to happen and what his plan is for when it inevitably goes sideways.

Dealing pot to Hawkins Royalty like King Steve isn’t entirely out of the ordinary, but doing it alone at a picnic table in the middle of the isolated woods? Yeah, not Eddie’s smartest decision for a meeting place.

In his defense, he’s only a hop skip and a jump away from the high school, and he couldn’t be assed to drive any further for what’s likely going to be a one time payment of $20. $25, if he overcharges Steve (which, he absolutely plans to do.)

Eddie finally gets to the clearing and Steve jumps when he notices him, finally looking away from a tree he was seemingly having a very intense staring match with.

“Whoa, hey, hey, hey! Sorry,” Eddie chuckles a bit awkwardly, trying his best to subconsciously communicate that he is not a threat, because he really doesn’t wanna get his lights punched out right now “Didn't mean to scare you.”

Eddie sits down and his metal lunchbox clatters onto the table —Steve flinches again. Boy, Harrington is jumpy— and sits across from him. He opens up his Pail-o’-Drugs and watches as Steve drums his fingers on the table.

“There's, uh... There's nothing to worry about. Okay? No one ever comes out here. We're safe. I promise.” Eddie honestly didn’t expect Steve Harrington to be worried about being caught, considering that Steve apparently used to hold daily house parties.

He still can’t believe it. King Steve goddamn Harrington sitting there, in all his douchey glory. Or at least, that’s what Eddie expected. Instead he sort looks exhausted. His eyes keep flitting around, and he looks like he just saw a ghost.

You see, Harrington was never a dick to Eddie, specifically. However, he sure as hell didn’t treat the freaks of Hawkins High with any sort of sympathy. Hence Eddie’s original plan to act like the biggest asshole he possibly could without scaring off a rich customer. But something about Harrington’s eyes, a sort of dull terror etched into the hazel brown, is making Eddie reconsider that decision.

“So, how does this work, exactly?” Steve sort of mutters. This is so utterly different from everything Eddie heard about him. Steve always roamed the halls with a sick sort of ironclad confidence, with his two jackals Tommy and Carol following his every beck and call. The boy across from Eddie though? He seems so haunted. Like a flickering projection of someone. A puppet with its strings cut.

“Uhh just like any other old sale, except cash only, and for obvious reasons, no receipts,” he gives Harrington what he hopes is a reassuring smile, “I'll do you a half ounce for, uh... 20. What do you say? Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last a while.”

A squirrel skitters up a tree in the background, and Harrington gasps quietly and whips around to track it. And then, finally, it clicks for Eddie.

Steve’s worried about being seen with Eddie the Freak Munson. Figures. He shouldn’t have expected anything less from King Steve.

“Hey, we don’t need to do this. Just give me the word, and I’ll walk away.”

“It’s not that, I don’t want you to go.” Steve starts, tentatively. He’s still looking around, like somethings about to pop out of the woods. “It’s just…Do you ever feel like you’re loosing your mind?”

And, of course Eddie feels like he’s lost his marbles. He’s a super senior with the nickname the Freak. Obviously he sometimes feels a little crazy. He’s a little surprised that notorious cool guy Steve Harrington feels that way, though.

He makes the decision right then and there to see this out, because even if Harrington’s afraid of being caught, there’s something here that Eddie’s missing.

“You know on a daily basis. I feel like I’m loosing my mind right now,” screw it, might as well be honest, go big or go home right? “doing a drug deal with Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High.”

“Ah, well, I haven’t been king for a while…” Steve trails off.

Eddie remembers Billy Hargrove. Remembers how he made him want to beg every god there was for Steve to steal back the crown. Billy Hargrove was mean to Eddie. He was mean to everyone. And he wasn’t highschool-mean either, he was Larry Munson mean. He was a jackass who wasn’t afraid of anyone and wanted you to know it.

Unprompted, Eddie remembers the first time he met Steve. Before he was Hawkins Royalty, before he was a jock and a bully, before Eddie was the freak and not just a freak. Eddie had just gotten to Hawkins, his old man had been put away and the US government dropped lil’ Eddie on Wayne’s doorstep. He’d met some friends and formed a shitty garage band. They’d played at the middle school talent show, and Eddie had lost his guitar pick. A boy about his age had given it back, told him his name was Steve and he had found it underneath his chair in the seats.

“You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um... Hung out.”

“No?”

Eddie lets out a little chuckle. Of course Steve wouldn’t remember. “It’s alright.”

He clutches at his heart like he’s been shot with an arrow and flings himself off the bench and into a pile of leaves behind him. He hears Steve let out a little gasp before he hops back up.

“I wouldn’t remember me either, Harrington!”

Steve looks a little amused, and Eddie catches a light brown blob in his peripheral vision. He combs his fingers through his hair and dislodges a dead leaf.

“Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?”

Steve lets out a little chuckle as Eddie starts to gets into his story. If there’s one thing Eddie Munson is good at, it’s story telling.

“Middle school, talent show. Carol I think did this cheer thing? You know the thing the,” Eddie mimed some pom poms. Steve was smiling a little bit, so Eddie continued his spiel, “and I- I was with my band.”

Suddenly Steve pipes up “Corroded Coffin! Oh my god!”

Eddie’s bewildered that Steve apparently remembered their weird prepubescent metal show. He claps his hands excitedly and points to Steve. “You do remember!”

“Yes, of course! With a name like that, how could I forget?”

“I dunno. You’re a freak.” Eddie’s pretty pleased with himself when his lack of brain-to-mouth filer apparently doesn’t offend Steve. In fact, Steve breaks out a smile. It’s less Harrington Charm then Eddie expected, more of a dorky toothy grin.

“No you just- you looked so-“

“Different? Yeah. Yeah. Well, uh, my hair was buzzed, and I didn't have these sweet old tatties yet.”

“You played guitar right?”

“Uh-huh. Still do. Still do.” And since Eddie is an impulsive mess and isn’t totally hating this interaction, he does something that totally spits in the face of the tried and true Munson doctrine and invites a preppy jock to a metal concert, “You should come see us. Uh, we play at the Hideout on Tuesdays. It’s pretty cool. We- we actually get a crowd of about five…drunks.”

Steve laughs a bit and clamps a hand over his mouth, like he’s a bit startled by the noise. Eddie doesn’t blame him, he’s a bit caught off guard too.

“It’s not exactly the Garden, but, you gotta start somewhere, right?”

Steve looks at Eddie with a considering gaze for a moment, like he’s trying to figure Eddie out.

“You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be.”

“What, a total freak?”

“No, no. Honestly? I thought you’d be mean. And scary.”

“Me? Steve Harrington thought I’d be scary?”

“Yeah! You’ve got this whole, I dunno, chains and leather vibe. Thought you wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

“Yeah, well, I thought you’d be mean and scary too.”

“Yeah?”

“Terrifying.” Eddie’s hit with the sudden realization that he’s completely forgot about the drug deal he came here for and plops himself back down at the picnic table. “Uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so... Twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here, you know.”

“…do you have anything maybe stronger?”

[alliddewrites]

Schlatt x ContentCreator!Reader

Content disclaimer:

Fluff,

SDMP,

Gender neutral reader

The power of the schlanket compelled me to finish this.

Masterlist

“Chat… This is taking so long…” you sigh, pausing in your building to look at chat.

Ever since you’ve been accepted into the Sleep Deprived SMP, your viewership has been steadily increasing. You had a smaller, but dedicated following before, which you were already very grateful for, but this push really helped you go full time with streaming.

Everyone has been very kind to you, both in your streams and on the server. The other content creators were helpful and included you in a lot of bits to help you assimilate.

You get along with the other creators pretty well, but there is one particular person you favored…

“What if I asked Schlatt for a favor…?” you lean back in your chair, taking your hands off your keyboard and mouse, character now still.

Chat immediately split into two sides, people spamming variations of ‘NO’ and ‘YES’ at the same time, with a clear majority of agreeing answers. There are people defending your honor, telling you to not sink to his level and ones that just wanted to see their favorite duo interact.

“You’re really enabling me here, chat… He’s still on, right?” pressing tab, you see his name on the server list, getting your question answered. “Yeah, he is.”

“I’m going to call him.” you sit back up straight, pause the game and open Discord on your other screen, next to chat. Clicking on yours and Schlatt’s DMs, remnants of a previous, spontaneous conversation pop up.

After a few seconds of hesitation– “Fuck it.” –you click on the call icon. Covering your mouth with your hand, elbow on the table, you stare at the screen while holding back a grin.

After a few rings, he joins.

“Yeah?” he asks straight away.

“Big man! I have a… uh.. favor to ask of you. If you would be ever so generous.” you say a bit nervously after uncovering your mouth, grin ever present. “It’s a pretty big ask.”

“So you came directly to the man at the top, huh?” he counters, the teasing tone clear in his voice.

“I had to make sure my request was accommodated properly, by the one and only.” you say, trying to appeal to his ego, while also not wanting to seem too excited.

“And what would that be, toots?”

“Well… I really, and I mean really, want to build a magnificent base for myself, and I already have everything planned out, but there's just one issue-” began your over the top, formal explanation, “-I am lacking quite a few blocks for this endeavor.”

He lets out a light and humorous scoff as you continue on, “So I thought I'd ask you to grant me creative mode, so I could contribute to this beautiful server, with my beautiful build.”

He gives a big, over exaggerated sigh before he starts speaking. “I could do that, as the person who owns the server, but…”

You squint as when you hear him drag out that last word. “But what?”

“But, I would need some sort of payment. I can't just go giving out such things to anyone for free. Then everyone would be asking me for similar things.” he finishes up. Now it's your turn to scoff at him.

“You say that like chaos doesn't constantly happen on this server anyway.” you roll your eyes at the camera, shaking your head for chat playfully.

“Okay, well, this discussion is over.” he snapped back with a serious tone.

“Wait! No no no no!! Please–!” you quickly ramble, laughing between the words, “--tell me what you want.”

What you didn't expect, is for his reply to come at you with lighting speed and directly hit you in the face with its outrageousness.

“Maid dress stream.”

Your face heats up as you stare at the image of the call in shock for a few seconds, weighing your options.

Does he want this to humiliate you?

Get a rise out of chat?

He already achieved that, only with that response.

Stir some light trouble for attention?

…

Or maybe he wants it for himself…

‘Nah, no way…’ you shut down that thought immediately, looking off to the side, only a portion of your face visible on stream now.

“...Sure...” came your quiet response after a few long seconds, face burning up even more.

The moment you finish saying it, you see something pop up in the Minecraft chat.

Schlatt gave you creative mode, just like that.

You stare dumbfounded as he begins speaking again. “I'll pick one out and mail it to you. See ya, toots.”

All you hear is the sound of him leaving the call as you lower your head and put your face in your hands.

“I guess we got what we wanted, chat.” you mumble out after a minute of silence, not even sure the microphone picked it up.

Your shared ship name became trending on X that night.

It stayed that way for a few days.

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