#but then he asked me what i do for work and i explain i’m a teacher and then he starts telling ME
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Tiny baby ghost
idea from Prompt for @silverblueglitter
The summoning circle glowed an eerie green, casting sharp shadows around the Justice League's meeting chamber. John Constantine, sleeves rolled up and cigarette dangling from his lips, muttered the last words of the incantation. The room held a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the magical energy.
When the green smoke cleared, instead of the imposing figure of the Ghost King they’d expected, a scrawny teenager in a black jumpsuit with white gloves and boots appeared, looking distinctly unimpressed.
“Seriously?!” Danny Phantom groaned, throwing up his hands. “It’s a school night!”
The room collectively blinked. Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged confused glances. Batman’s eyes narrowed behind his cowl, while the Batkids—perched around the room like chaotic gargoyles—leaned forward, intrigued.
“This… is the Ghost King?” Nightwing asked, his voice skeptical but amused.
“Ghost King?” Danny repeated, holding up a hand. “Nope. Wrong guy. Try again.”
“Clearly, this is a child,” Robin said flatly, stepping forward with his arms crossed. “Either the summoning ritual failed, or we’ve been deceived.”
“Who are you calling a child, mini-Nightmare?” Danny shot back, floating an inch off the ground to look taller. “I’m fifteen. How old are you, eight?”
“I am fourteen, you insufferable spirit,” Robin snapped, glaring daggers at him. “And you are woefully unqualified to speak to me in such a tone.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Robin Junior. Let me know when you grow a sense of humor.”
Red Hood, perched casually on a table nearby, barked out a laugh. “I like this kid already.”
Robin scowled. “You would.”
Red Hood swung his legs off the table, standing to his full height. “Alright, Casper, if you’re not the Ghost King, why’d this ritual grab you instead?”
“That’s a great question! Wish I knew!” Danny said, throwing up his hands.
Constantine frowned, stepping closer. “You’re definitely ghostly, mate, and half-alive by the looks of you.” His sharp gaze softened just slightly. “You’re a bloody halfa.”
Danny froze, eyes darting to the swirling green barrier still holding him in the circle (not really). “I’m a ghost. And yeah, I’m alive. What’s it to you?”
Batman loomed closer, his deep voice cutting through the room. “If you’re not the Ghost King, why does this summoning work?”
“Great question! Wish I knew!” Danny threw up his arms again, his ectoplasm glowing faintly in frustration. “I don’t even know who you are, and you’ve already ruined my night! or Maybe the universe hates me. That’d explain a lot!”
“Who even made this circle?” Red Hood asked, pointing at Constantine. “Did you check it? It’s glowing green. That’s ghost vibes, man.”
“Thanks for the observation, Red Hood,” Constantine said dryly. “What gave it away, the ectoplasm or the ghost?”
“You are in no position to demand answers,” Batman growled.
“Oh my god, you’re worse than my parents,” Danny muttered.
Before Batman could respond, the air grew colder. A heavy, oppressive presence filled the room as green flames erupted in the middle of the chamber. From the flames stepped Pariah Dark, fully armored and radiating raw power, his glowing eyes zeroing in on Danny.
The League tensed, weapons at the ready, but Pariah didn’t even look at them. Instead, his expression softened in a way that could only be described as paternal as he reached out and plucked Danny out of the circle like a child grabbing a stuffed animal.
“Who dares summon my child?” Pariah rumbled, his deep voice shaking the room. He cradled Danny in one massive hand as though he were the most precious treasure in existence. Danny, for his part, just sighed and leaned against one of Pariah’s fingers.
“Dad, chill. They’re not trying to hurt me—” Danny shot a glare at Batman, “—yet.”
“‘Dad’?” Robin echoed, utterly baffled.
“They stressed him out,” Pariah continued as if Danny hadn’t spoken. “This is the third time in two weeks. Do you know how much sleep he’s lost? He has school!”
Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The third summoning this week,” he growled. “And for what? To disrupt his rest? His studies?”
“Studies?” Robin repeated incredulously. “This alleged ‘Ghost Prince’ is concerned with—”
“School,” Red Hood supplied helpfully, smirking. “That tracks. He’s just a kid.”
“I’M NOT JUST A KID!” Danny protested, his voice cracking slightly. Jason snorted.
Before anyone else could respond, Fright Knight materialized beside Pariah, his armor gleaming and his sword crackling with ghostly energy. He took one look at the summoning circle and grimaced.
“Shall I eliminate the offenders, my liege?” he asked Pariah, his grip tightening on his sword.
“No!” Danny yelped, waving his hands frantically. “No eliminating, no smiting! We talked about this, remember?”
Pariah sighed, his massive shoulders slumping. “They stressed you out,” he rumbled. “They should pay.”
“They’ll be fine,” Danny muttered. “Just… let me handle it, okay?”
“‘Fine,’ he says,” Red Hood muttered. “We’re seconds away from getting blasted into the afterlife.”
Robin's hand drifted toward his sword, his eyes darting between Pariah and Fright Knight. “This is absurd. We are the Justice League. Surely, we are not so easily—”
“Shut it, kid,” Consttantine interrupted. “Unless you want to test if we’re actually ‘fine.’”
Danny groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”
Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We summoned you because we need the Ghost King’s aid to stop a catastrophic magical event threatening the world.”
“Then why not summon him?” Danny snapped. “I’m not the king!”
“Yet the ritual brought you,” Batman said, his voice a mix of curiosity and accusation.
Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The crown does not transfer unless challenged. And none shall dare challenge my son.”
Danny squirmed in his ghost-dad’s grip. “Okay, Dad, they get it. Can you not threaten to destroy the world for five minutes?”
Pariah huffed but gently set Danny down, though he remained close, a looming shadow of protective menace.
Constantine rubbed his temples, muttering something about “bloody teenagers” and “overprotective ghost tyrants.” Meanwhile, the Batkids exchanged glances, clearly plotting something.
Danny sighed. “Look, I’ll help you guys with your big, scary magical problem, but can we make it quick? I have a chem test tomorrow.”
#DCxDP#DPxDC#Pariah adopts Danny#Stops his plans to take over the world by the ghost equivalent of a tiny baby holding ur finger for the first time ever#Aka new halfa child came at him swinging and that’s utterly Adorable#To Pariah he’s just a lil guy- a lil baby boi#And since he’s still half alive he Supposes the city needs to still exist in the living world#He’s just going to hold the lil child in his hands and marvel while Danny tries to gnaw a finger off#Fright Knight is his official babysitter & now lives in his shadow half the time#The crown only transfers through a mutual battle/challenge#Which didn’t exactly happen#danny fenton#dc x dp#dc x dp crossover#danny is a little shit#batfam#jason todd#dps fandom#danny phantom#pariah dark#pariah is danny's adopted dad#danny being danny#danny phantom au#sassy danny#baby danny
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay, so hopefully you don't mind this, but this drawing absolutely refused to leave me alone since I've seen it and the writing gods demanded a sacrifice in it's honor.
~~~~~~
Jayce has only a basic understanding of undercity politics; even then, he knows this is a bad idea.
He’s been coming down here for parts for over a year now. Which means he knows all the best places. Benzo’s is reliable. Good parts for a good price. [name]’s got interesting stuff, the issue is the quality is shit. It’s just as likely to break as it is to work. But there’s one place you only go if you’re really desperate. And Jayce is desperate.
The Machine Herald’s.
The name is odd, but from what Jayce has heard, if you need something unique, you’ll find it there. The issue is, what price will you pay for it? Because the owner is one of Silco’s.
Even with his limited knowledge, Jayce knows you don’t fuck with Silco’s people. But again, he’s desperate.
If he can get this last part, he’ll finally have something to share that even Heimerdinger can’t dismiss for Progress Day.
So he’s taking the risk — crossing the line you don’t cross as an outsider, and entering Zaun.
Ever since the weird and antagonistic truce between Vander and Silco was struck, there’s been a divide in the lanes. On one side, Vander’s people. The other, the self-proclaimed Zaunites led by Silco. There’s literally a fucking line in the middle of the square demarcating whose land is whose.
Jayce’s whole body tenses for an attack as soon as he’s stepped across it. Miraculously, his luck holds and nothing happens.
Peering at the little map Ekko has drawn for him, Jayce frowns and turns left down an alley.
Ekko had called him a crazy piltie with sludge for brains when he’d asked for directions to the Machine Herald’s, but Ekko is like twelve, so most of what he says is insults.
The building is pretty nondescript. Jayce almost walks past it, but a cog mounted over the door catches his eye. It’s been welded into its shape by combining many other smaller items, wrenches, pipes, and what looks like a set of keys.
Jayce stares up at it over the open door, trying to pick apart everything in the cog.
“You look lost pretty boy.”
Jayce jumps, too focused on the art, he missed that a man appeared in the doorway. The stranger leans nonchalantly on the door jamb, shooting Jayce an almost mocking look as the pipe dangling from his fingers slowly lets off swirls of pinkish smoke.
He’s startlingly pretty.
The combination of half-skirt, corset, and unbuttoned shirt is clearly meant to draw the eye, and draw it does. Jayce scans the man, struggling to put his finger on what it is about the man that’s so striking.
A quirked brow reminds Jayce he’s yet to say anything.
“I—uh. I’m looking for a—a part?”
The man smirks, his face only getting more attractive, which is doing nothing for Jayce’s ability to string a sentence together.
“I should hope so,” the man replies. “Otherwise you’d need to head elsewhere.” There’s a unique accent to the man’s soft voice, slightly raspy from the smoking.
Jayce chuckles, and steps closer to the shop. “I’m Jayce,” he says, holding out his hand.
The man stares at him, eyes flicking down to his outstretched hand and back up to his face, amusement growing stronger.
“Viktor,” he says, passing the pipe to his other hand before shaking Jayce’s hand. “How can I help you, Jayce?”
Jayce takes a deep breath and dives right into explaining what he’s looking for. As he talks, the other man gives him a bewildered look before a glint enters his eyes, and Jayce can tell he has Viktor’s full attention.
What follows is a three-hour discussion about mechanics that robs Jayce of half his monthly stipend, but sends him home with no less than four different parts he hasn’t been able to find anywhere else.
Viktor sees him off, once again leaning casually in the doorway with a smirk firmly in place. He’s likely overcharged Jayce for everything, but Jayce is so pleased he doesn’t even mind.
“Make sure to hurry back, pretty boy,” Viktor calls to him as Jayce walks away.
Looking back, Jayce shakes his head at the other man and shoots him a wink. He’s whistling as he makes his way back out of Zaun and the lanes. Today, was a very good day.
_______________
Jayce goes back.
It’s dumb. So very, very dumb, but he does it anyway. They’d talked for hours that first time, Viktor able to not only understand his designs but to make them better.
Not even Heimerdinger’s done that.
It doesn’t hurt that Viktor is one of the most beautiful people Jayce has ever seen. And he’s dated Mel Medarda. He knows beautiful.
There’s something special about Viktor. Fragility paired with a cocky confidence that makes warmth spark to life in Jayce’s belly when he sees the other man.
It’s all rather new for Jayce. He’s feeling out of his depth. Especially with the way that Viktor has draped himself over Jayce after shoving him unceremoniously on the couch. Legs tossed over Jayce’s, Viktor is sprawled back on the arm, ever-present pipe dangling from his fingers.
“What’s that for?” Jayce asks before he’s thought the question through.
Viktor pauses, holding in the hit he’s just taken before letting it spill from his lips, pink-tinted and smoky.
“It helps with the pain.”
Jayce eyes drift to the brace partially hidden by Viktor’s skirt. He’s only been able to catch glimpses and his curiosity is gnawing at him to see more.
Viktor stretches, knocking the skirt to the side and putting the brace and himself on display.
“See something you like, topsider?”
Jayce ignores the taunt, peering closer at the brace. “Did you make this?”
Viktor loses some of his bravado in the face of Jayce’s admiration.
“I did.”
It’s a gorgeous piece of engineering, and the forge master in Jayce wants a better look.
“May I?” He asks, fingers hovering over Viktor’s leg.
This time there’s no false bravado. Viktor nods and watches him like a hawk.
Gently, Jayce lifts the leg, turning it a bit to see how the various parts of the brace move. Viktor doesn’t fight him, relaxed and loose in his grasp. The brace is a seamless creation. Jayce is highly impressed, so he says so.
“It’s beautiful.”
Viktor lets out a noise that makes Jayce turn from the brace despite how much he wants to study it. A Cheshire grin has spread on the other man’s face, and there’s a glint in his eyes that speaks of danger.
“Jayce Talis. Are you flirting with me?”
Jayce freezes, not sure he could cobble together a response even if he could get his tongue working with Viktor looking at him like that.
One moment Viktor’s sprawled like a satisfied house cat, the next he’s straddling Jayce, arms draped over Jayce’s shoulders.
“You like?” he purrs.
Jayce’s brain has stopped working. He’s pretty sure for a second there be blacked out, because now his hands are holding Viktor’s waist, gripping the corset that must act as a second brace.
Oh fuck. Jayce stares, unable to get what he’s seeing to make sense. His hands—his hands almost span Viktor’s tiny waist.
For a moment, there’s just static in his brain and then something clicks. His brain lights up, and he squeezes.
“Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Still staring.
Viktor chuckles breathily, his finger threading through Jayce’s hair and then pulling, yanking Jayce’s head back. Jayce grunts, tingles racing down his spine as heat pools in his belly.
“Careful pretty boy,” Viktor whispers, leaning down so that Jayce’s eyes cross as he tries to watch Viktor’s lips. “You’re playing with fire.”
Jayce is pretty sure he’d like to be burned.
“You look like you don’t have a clue what to do,” Viktor murmurs, lashes dipping prettily.
“I mean, technically?” Jayce blurts out. Viktor pulls back, looking down at him confused. Jayce shrugs. “Inexperienced? No. This particular situation? Also no.”
Viktor cocks his head in confusion, eyeing Jayce like he’s a specimen Viktor means to study. Again that wicked smile spreads and Jayce’s heart thumps in excitement.
Leaning down so his breath ghosts over Jayce’s lips, Viktor says, “Whoever let you wander down here should have known better.”
Jayce’s mouth drops open, anticipation and want bubbling up inside him. Just a little closer.
“Piltover’s loss,” Viktor whispers. Then he kisses Jayce.
Zaun vik and Jayce
#arcane#jayvik#my fic#jayvik fanfic#jayvik fanart#arcane fanfic#arcane fanart#pretty art#this art made me go a little feral#nemi proceeded to tease me#and this is the result#zaunite viktor#jayce in way over his head#but don't worry he's having fun#ficlets#truly this art is stunning and it deserves a 40k fic to go along with it
16K notes
·
View notes
Text
do you see anyone other than me? (baby please) | rafayel (lnds)
✮ tags ; rafayel x fem+ afab!reader, established relationships, dom!reader, sub!rafayel, gentle femdom, oral (m!recieving + some f!recieving), anal (m!recieving), praise kink (so much), dirty talk (SO much),pegging / topping, top!reader, bottom!rafayel dry orgasms 18+
✮ wc ; 6.9k (come on man)
✮ a/n ; reader and mc do not share a personality in this. reader is intentionally meant to have like... a more serious personality. so they are mc but not at the same time if that makes sense sdkjskj.
also i know this guy but only a little bit. i was planning on binging the main story after caleb got released but got ?? caught up writing this?? this has happened twice im so scared
✮ synopsis ; making sure rafayel actually forgives you is at the top of your priorities.
When you come home from the office, take your shoes off, and turn the corner into the living room—you know without looking that Rafayel is in a mood.
Not a good one.
It’s something in the air, a lingering tension that makes all movement stiff as you attempt to navigate through the unease. You find Rafayel on the couch. Soft, deep lavender waves tussled like he’s been tossing and turning - pressed into the side of the couch. All curled up small.
Somehow, you just know what sort of attitude you’ll be met with. You know your lover well enough to know that he’ll be moody but you’ve less confidence in regards to what that mood may be.
Taking a deep breath, you step into the wide expanse of Rafayel’s living room and studio. His head turns, bangs falling in his face as you slide your work bag off from your shoulder to set aside. Your keys, noisy as you set them down, even gently—trying to leave the air undisturbed. He’s looking at you from over his shoulder but realizes he can’t completely see you that way. Instead of standing to his feet to come greet you, he drops his head back on the arm of the couch to stare at you upside down in a tense silence.
You give him a look. His mood is sour. Maybe more than you thought. He smiles first, then frowns unhappily before turning his attention back to what he was doing. You hear small scratching noises—he’s sketching. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there doing that, since he usually just prefers to paint without thinking too hard.
After that, he doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t greet you, either.
“I’m home.” You say evenly. You think about being placating from the jump, but without knowing his exact reason - you worry you’ll only worsen the state of affairs.
Rafayel hums. “Welcome home.”
Your brain wracks through every possibility on what could be the source of this level of moodiness. Sometimes, his moody behavior is for kicks but it’s not this time. If it was, he’d lay it on thickly. Act theatrically towards you, get in your face about it.
But he’s tense, forceful—every scratch of his pencil is too harsh like it’s rife with irritation. You tread carefully.
“Can I sit with you?”
“Why are you asking? Don’t you live here too? Just because I bought the couches with my money doesn’t mean—“
“Rafayel.” You say, interrupting him. He scowls at you. “Can I?”
As if more bothered by you being level, he huffs. It’s followed with a business smile over his shoulder. “Sure. Do whatever you want.”
You choose to sit on the empty end of the couch where Rafayel does his sketching - fitting yourself in the gap of his space near his feet. You slide yourself in then gently lift his legs into your lap. Rafayel gives you a look when you do this, clearly debating on whether or not he should reject your act of goodwill. Ultimately he stays.
Notably, while his pencil is still scratching on paper - you think by this point he’s not really sketching anything at all.
“I got off of work late,” You explain. You rest your hands on his calf gently. “There was an incident near the station but it was a false alarm so I ended up being cleared.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Warm, you think. You nod.
“There’s been a lot of Metaflux increases in the residential districts close to our headquarters. It’s odd.” You explain. Rafayel is quiet, looking at his nails disinterested. You go on, not taking offense. “Strange as it is, there’s been no active threats. Still, given the location, it needs a lot of man power to be investigated.”
Rafayel sits quietly, unreadable. You continue on. “So it’s been busy. I think we’ve cleared the level of threat, so another team will probably take over soon.”
“Hm.” Rafayel says, a petulant edge to his voice. Warmer. “So that’s why you’ve been so late this week. I guess it’s good that nothing happened. It must’ve been difficult, so difficult if you could barely spend time with your one and only lover. But I guess it’s fine, it’s not like there’s anything you can do in that circumstances. Well, you could’ve done a lot but if it didn’t occur to you there’s nothing to be said, then again—why would it—“
Hot. “Rafayel.”
“What.”
“I’m sorry for being late,” You say.
A beat. His frown deepens.
“And?”
You pause before answering, smiling apologetically. “For not keeping in contact with you more.”
Some of the life returns to him. You’ve deduced the source of his bad mood, which means the only thing left is to alleviate it. You don’t like seeing him upset. He’s quick to forgive you, always optimistic and trying to keep your relationship lighthearted.
But there is an underlying desire in him that makes you more conscious about any minor infringements. Despite himself, Rafayel is more concerned about you liking him than he’ll ever let on in his life. Even when he’s upset, he’ll forgive you - but the feelings linger until they explode. When he gets like that, it’s much harder to comfort him.
It’ll fester if you don’t apologize properly. You know him well enough to know that and you love him well enough to not want to see when disaster strikes.
(Plus, there’s something about the way he’s still pouting. He’s trying to relax, but it’s there. It’s cute to you. It makes you want to kiss it better.)
“I’m sorry,” You offer. You reach for the hand resting in his lap and he lets you take it, though it’s limp. You press a kiss to the back of it, eyes full of affection. “I’m not used to having someone wait for me,”
Rafayel makes another face at you, unreadable. “Not just anyone.”
You laugh lightly. “That’s true.”
Squeezing his hand tighter, you kiss it one more time. “Can I make it up to you…?”
“I don’t know. Can you?”
“I’d like to,” You offer, another kiss - just higher on back of his hand. Closer towards his wrist. “Whatever you wanted.”
“Whatever I want is a tempting offer, Miss Bodyguard. What a talent for bargaining you have, indeed. Maybe you should try bidding a one of my auctions, just to see.”
“I’d bid too high off the bat. I’d go bankrupt,” You tease back, a sweet lilt to your voice that makes Rafayel’s eyes shimmer, fond of your wit. “Would you be willing to keep me if I gave it all up that way, I wonder?”
“Since it was for me, I could consider being merciful.”
You give him sincere but small smile and Rafayel seems to warm up seeing it. He can be coy, even playful about his affection but there’s something about him today that feels more shy then it does anything else.
“If I can ask for whatever I want,” Rafayel starts. “Maybe we could start with paying back your dues. After all you owe me your full undivided attention after your week of neglect.”
“That’s easy.” You say, charming. Rafayel makes a face at you that makes you want to laugh. “I wanted to give you that anyway. Is that all?”
“Are you telling me to be more demanding? You think that’s a wise choice?”
“If it makes you happy, I’ll play the fool.”
It’s corny, deliberately not something you’d say to anyone else or at any other time. Something that Rafayel might say to you in a different circumstance, so in a way you’ve simply beat him to the punch. He goes through several feelings, each passing over his expression. Amusement to disbelief to embarrassment even he can’t cover up too easily.
Great risk comes with great reward. Yours is a smiling Rafayel, boyish and amused. Color returned to him, a playful air of mischief about him.
“Well if you’re that desperate to make it up to me, then I guess I could try to forgive you. Gosh, you must be so desperate if you’re willing to act this way. You’ve totally fallen for me, haven’t you?”
Yes, you think. Too much of that at once and he’ll get shy again. You’ll have plenty of coaxing to do later so you keep the thought to yourself. You smile at him instead. “So, you’ve anymore demands for me, my liege?”
Rafayel hums before breaking out into a grin. “Hmm. For now, just one.” He offers you his hand. “Take me upstairs.”
__
Rafayel has a way about him, with you and only you, that makes you especially weak to his advances.
Whatever those advances are, however taxing on you they may be—there’s so rarely a time where you can tell him no. He likes having that much influence over you, no matter what his particular mood is. If he’s feeling the desire to keep you under his thumb or be at your mercy. Whats central to him in each instance is that he has the full breadth of your attention, your desire, and most importantly—your lacking will to resist.
You like it all because you like Rafayel. Like how it feels trying to hold onto him as he slips between your fingers.
If someone asked you what you like most, though - it’d be this.
Not quite at your mercy but expectant of your devotion. Crystalline eyes and long, straight lashes blinking up at you with unwitting demand, crowding around you mercilessly. A gaze that weakens you, disarms you, demands your propriety.
“What are you thinking about?”
His words come out more annoyed than he wants them to. Your eyes come back into focus to Rafayel on top of you, in your lap as you lean against the headboard. His weight settled like he’s something that fits there perfectly and he does. Your hand reaches for his lower back, eyes tracing down the damp skin. Button shirt opened just loose enough to catch glimpse of his collarbones, with only boxers underneath. Your hands run down his sides, smooth down his bare thighs - mesmerized by cream colored skin that begs for blemishes.
His expression bewitches you even when your mind had prepared you for it. You smile almost lazily, drawing him just a little closer to you until your noses touch. “Of you.”
He scoffs at you. “Is that so? Not that you have no reason to think about your perfect, darling lover—it’s just that it seems like he’s the last thing on your mind these days, so you know,-“
You kiss him. It’s only partially to shut him up. It’s mostly because him talking makes you look at the shape of his mouth, the curve of his lips—the way he’s pouting at you. It’s almost too much. You part after a minute, careful not to deepen the kiss.
He has something to say after the fact, dazed - hands on your shoulders trying to give himself the room to speak before you kiss him again.
But you don’t relent. You kiss him harder, a hand around the back of his neck - slipping your tongue against his lips in the way you like. He doesn’t concede. You’re not really expecting him to. He kisses back even harder like he’s trying to prove a point - teeth digging into your lower lip. A little too sharp for human, but perfect for him.
You pull away breathless. A hand still on the nape of his neck, sliding around enough to feel his pulse under your thumb. Thump, thump, thump—rabbit quick. You smile at him suggestively, proving him displeased.
“Don’t interrupt me. Trying to kiss me when I’m airing out my complaints is unprofessional and rude, I’ll have you know.”
“I’m sorry,” Your lips brush his jawbone. “It’s hard to think about talking when you’re half-naked on top of me.”
“You can be so vulgar. It’s shocking. You’re usually all serious and about work and then sometimes you look like a dog waiting to be told it can have the treat on it’s nose,” Rafayel says airily. Fake haughty, voice colored with coyness. You look up at him. “Does it really count as making it up to me if all you’re doing is lusting after me?”
You don’t deny him at face value. “You set the standard. You tell me. Do you feel like I’m still making it up to you or should I work a little harder?”
There’s something between you. A spark of electricity that fizzles and pops, tension deepening. Rafayel likes playing tug of war with you. Even though he’s expecting to be pampered - there’s nothing easy about letting him. But it works when you keep yourself even. Eager. Having your desire and lust for him out in the open gives him the power again and he likes that, even when it’s mostly pretend.
“Work harder. You have to earn your paycheck Miss Bodyguard.” He says. You laugh a little, sitting up a little straighter.
“Yes boss,” You reply. You lean forward, pulling his weight down as your hands slide underneath the loose, flowy button up. Your hands find his waist, holding his sides before gliding them up on the planes of his back. He’s got lean muscle, a swimmers build that feels tight to the touch.
You kiss him on the lips again, tongue sweeping against his lower lip. Rafayel playfully rejects it when you do. You pull away one hand to cup the back of his neck and force the kiss deeper, tongue pressing the closed seam of his lips until he yield and lets you. He melts at the gesture rather unwittingly, the softest little whimper sounding as you feel your tongues touch. It’s a wet, hot kiss. Mouth sticky with spit and saliva.
“I’m working hard so you shouldn’t be too hard on me,” You say playfully. Rafayel rolls his hips, makes a noise for you as he huffs. “I want to make you feel good.”
“You’re—“
You interrupt him again. Not with a kiss on his mouth this time, but a chaste one to the very corner of of it - trailing down the soft curve of his jawline. You make the pressure on his neck featherlight. Thin skin prone to being sensitive, he melts at the soft touch. Cranes his neck up subconsciously to give you access to it. In the spirit of pampering him, you bite at the skin with a genuine hunger. Marking each bruise with a kiss first, you sink your teeth into him without remorse. Incisors scraping the delicate area before you suck hard, broken capillaries throbbing underneath your tongue when you lick them after the fact.
Deep, deep shades of red and purple bloom all over the column of his throat. It doesn’t feel like enough to you still.
“My neck hurts from all your biting.” His voice comes out in wet pants, betraying the sentiment. You laugh warmly at his attempt to diverge.
“Does it? Should I be gentler, then?” You offer. After you feel like you’ve marked his neck enough, you press another feather-light kiss right where his adams apple sits. Another on his clavicle. When it gets to his collarbone - you don’t do anything more than brush your lips.
Rafayel whines. It’s a throaty sound that makes your whole body break out into a shiver. Such a pleasant sound on the ears that your mind pictures instantly what other sounds he might make if you just had your way with him. It uncovers a selfish part of you. You could flip him over on your bed and take him if you wanted. Fuck him until he sings as punishment maybe for being tempting like a siren drawing a lone sailor into deep waters.
You keep the thoughts to yourself, and keep your composure. You ask again instead. “Come on. Tell me. Do you want me to touch you more gently?”
He fusses in your lap. You grin. “What’s the point in being gentle now if you’re being so rough to begin with? The change would be just weird, you know.”
“I guess it would,” You let yourself lick the same places you just kissed. You bite then hard enough to leave a mark and Rafayel arches himself into it. “It’s better like this then, right? If I leave marks all over you, then maybe you’ll feel less lonely when I get busy again.”
“I should get to leave them on you too. Your memory isn’t as sharp as it used to be. A physical reminder might do you some good, yes.”
His voice is trembling, despite himself. You pull away to look up at him, and catch sight of a fragility you sometimes forget he’s capable of. Brows drawn into a furrow, lips pulled into a pout. Like a wound reopened inside of him that he’s so desperate to cauterize but can’t. You want to kiss the lines between his brows and get on your knees for it. A proof of your affection.
“I’m sorry for being careless,” You say, sincere. Rafayel looks ready to quiet you, concerned about the mood but you proceed anyhow. You lift his shirt up and hold it to his mouth, and he bites without your instruction. Bare chest exposed to him, you flit your gaze to his face. “I can’t do anything but try to beg your forgiveness. Still,”
You kiss his sternum, your hands on his waist. You fingers trail down his sides, hands sliding back up to chest. His nipples are hard, damp skin cool to the touch. Your warm him with your fingers, rolling over the sensitive tips. Rafayel makes a muffled noise, his cock twitching responsively.
“All I ever really think about is you,” You say. Rafayel gives you a long, unreadable look as you toy with his chest. “I’m not the type to half-ass things so my thoughts always revolve around you. Finishing work to come home to you. If you’ve eaten or if you locked yourself in the studio to paint all day. If we should go somewhere together on my day off.”
You lean forward and stick your tongue out, taking his nipples into your mouth. You roll the other one with your hand to increase the pleasure - content as you watch his face begin to flush. He watches you so closely, the tips of his ears burning a bright red. You suck hard, wetting them with saliva before you take them gently between your teeth and tugging.
“I’m not good at balancing work with play. I’m also not very friendly so you’re the only person I’ve ever spent so much time dating” You hum, nuzzling his skin. “I’m sure down the line it’ll be harder. But, if it helps, it’s true that my heads always filled with you.”
Your hands grip his waist, pushing his hips forward slightly as you suck and bite his chest again. A line of saliva connects you both as you pull away - teethmark indentations in their place.
“I want to make you feel good,” You maneuver Rafayel until he’s underneath you. His expression reads as overwhelmed but the faint blush blooming all over his skin and the hazy look in his eyes makes you confident he’s feeling more than just uncertainty. More like restlessness. A desire to be touched as he lays on his back with you looming over him. “And to touch you everywhere.”
You lean into him, trailing kisses down the his chest. You can feel his pulse quicken again as you touch him, spreading his legs as you put your thumb inside the waistband of his boxers.
Like this, he looks especially enchanting. The sleeves of his shirt pulled over his palms, button-up bunched up underneath his chin, and tight gray boxer briefs snug around his hips. Your bedroom, dimly lit, casting shadow on the sinewy muscle. His chest heaves with anticipation, stomach tense as your lips trace a path down from chest to navel. Excitement wracks through his body.
You put a hand on his stomach and look up at him. “I want to leave my mark on all of it. I want your body to remember I felt this deep inside of you and shiver. You’ll be able to think of me half as much as I think of you.”
Rafayel heaves, eyes glossed over. “Shit, you’re so unfair. It’s like you have two personalities or something. Are you tricking me? Is it actually you in there?”
You smile a little, pleased by his reply.
You follow your instinct, sliding his boxers off and tossing them somewhere. Rafayel is hard. So hard it looks like it hurts. The tip of his cock is ruddy, wet with pre-cum and swollen. His dick is long. Stands up with a straight curve. You breathe on it, making Rafayel flinch with anticipation. Your eyes flicker up to his face, terrible pout betraying his feigned moodiness..
“Don’t tease me,” He voices. Arousal strikes through you like hot iron at the whine of his voice. Almost pitiful.
“Not today,” You promise.
You making yourself comfortable between Rafayel’s legs, sticking your tongue out to taste him. He smells like soap and skin, but the scent is still so arousing. Your head is heavy with it, senses suffocating, hands stabilizing themselves by grabbing hold of his thighs. Rafayel looks near overwhelmed from even the slightest touch. It’s uncharacteristic for him to be so quiet. Almost meek. He must be aching for you more than he lets on.
You let his cock rest against your face, nuzzling it with your cheek. His cock responds sweetly to the lewd act. He lets out a sigh about, subtly trying to shimmy away from the touch. Unable to win against your grip, he sinks back into the bed and takes a long breath.
“Keep your eyes on me,”
In the business of spoiling him, you leave your teasing to a minimum. You gather spit in your mouth and spit it onto his cock with force - relishing the his breath hitches. How his eyes widen just slightly. You stroke his shaft with a tight grip, bringing your head down suck lightly below the shaft of his cock. His head falls back again, mouth open in a silent plea.
Rafayel keens for you when you work him with the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. You use your hands to fondle him while you shift your attention to his length. Your lips placing hot kisses up until they stop at the slit - tongue dipping into and tasting precum. Salty and warm. You wet your lips again and brush them against his cock - watching the way his expression shifts at the sensation, lightly sucking as you build yourself up having him in your mouth.
He pitches his hips with desperation that spurs you to give him more pleasure. You open wide to take his cock into your mouth. The weight of it feels good. Arousal clouds your mind as you hollows your cheeks and stick your tongue out over your lip. He’s throbbing so hard it makes you lightheaded.
A minute passes as you just hold him in your mouth, getting your jaw used to the sensation before you put in work in making him feel good. Like steel over your velvet, you use your tongue to lap at the sensitive skin while spitting and drooling. You’re making a mess. The room echoes with the filthy noise of you swallowing and choking on Rafayel’s cock.
“Oh, fuck.”
Your eyes flicker up to Rafayel, trying not to crack a smile at the state of disarray he’s in. His expression is so twisted from pleasure. All of his features reflective of it. His blush seems to creep down even further the longer you go. Your body gradually heats up, core throbbing as you take him down. Take him slowly into the narrow canal of your throat, eyes watering.
You ease yourself down the very base - nose pressed against his navel, tongue over your lip. Rafayel’s fingers curl into the sheets underneath you trying not to buck his hips.
“Get off of me, I’ll cum.” He says, almost panicked. “Your throat feels so good. Y-your mouth is so hot and it’s making me feel so good, can’t—I can’t. You gotta get off or—”
His words of protest fall on deaf ears as you spread his legs even further. Wanting to make him feel better, you part them.
You’re greeted by pretty pink hole - already wet for you. A stream of spit follows as you pull off him.
Rafayel heaves in relief.
“You got yourself ready,” You say, less than ask. Rafayel rolls his eyes.
“So what if I did?”
“I wanted to do it for you.” You reply, pretending to sulk. “Told you I wanted to spoil you.”
He blushes further. “Don’t you have any sensibility? You’re doing more than enough. Being excessive, even.”
“I don’t believe in being excessive when it comes to you,” You hum. Sitting up, you reach over the bedside table for a bottle of lube. You pour it in excess on your two fingers before coming back down between his legs. The bed creaks under your weight.
Lube drips from your two fingers onto Rafayel’s hole, thick as you push the excess with two fingers. Both go in so smoothly it makes you smirk. He’s soft inside. It’s so easy for you to put both fingers inside of him, even easier to find his prostate - swollen from arousal. He must’ve fucked himself open like this on three fingers given how easily yours follow.
“It’s so wet inside. You must’ve really wanted me to fuck you.”
“So what if I—aah—did?”
“Well, I wanted to take you apart nice and slow.” You say, slowly rubbing your fingers against his prostate, pleased by the little oh noises he makes when you. Cum spills from the tip immediately. He’s so sensitive. You divulge your plans to him as you stretch him. “First with my mouth once or twice. I was going to save fucking you for the end but—“ You push your fingers deeper. To the knuckle. His eyes shoot wide open before his voice breaks into a moan. “Since I’m making it up to you you, I was wondering if I should just cut the chase and make you cum on my cock over and over and over. Maybe you’d prefer that.”
Rafayel’s eyes go wide. You feel a sense of accomplishment knowing without him telling you. He clears his throat, strangely sheepish.
“It’s not like the other stuff feels bad or anything—“
You make eye contact with him, sitting up on your knees. Your other hand cups the back of his neck as you press a third finger inside - fucking it in slowly. Rafayel moans unabashedly as you do. His skin is feverish as you press your forehead to his, noses brushing. The wet sound of you stretching him open makes you dizzy, shared breaths between you filling worsening your appetite for him.
“It’s not what you want though, is it? Not today anyway.” You say, leaning close enough to kiss. You don’t follow through, your voice low on a whisper. “Tell me how you were picturing me fucking you in the shower. I’ll give you whatever you want today,”
Rafayel seems to let go of the last threads of fight in him as you approach like this. You’re in the thick of your wanting for him. Your body and your mind hunger to make it feel so good it looks like carnage to everyone else. To be pleasured so ruthlessly he can barely move
He’s rarely too shy but right now he’s in the depths of his desires. He moans sweetly like this. It’s not a sound you can coax out of him easily. It sounds so perfect still. Mouth fallen open, his hands finding purchase in the back of your shirt.
“Want you to fuck me deeply,” He pants, like it’s straining to even thinking about it. “N-not too fast, but not too slow either. Want you, hngh,” Shivering, he tries to speak coherently as your eyes meet - lips barely touching but almost. “To p-praise me and—“
You grin. “You want to pampered while I fuck this pretty little hole, right?”
You push your fingers in harder. He whimpers. It’s loud and broken and makes grip on you tighter. He just nods. “Please. Fuck, please - need it now. In me, please.”
It’s exactly the words you’re interested in hearing. You kiss him on the lips deeply. He sinks completely into the touch, malleable under your fingertips.
“Shh, I know.” You hum, soothingly. Rafayel whines from the loss of contact as you pull your hand away.“You earned it. Just a little more.”
You stand up again on your knee, stripping yourself of the remaining garments left on your body from the work day. You unhook your bra and take it off along with your tank top in one go, tossing it somewhere on the floor.
Next come your slacks, tight from the way you’ve tucked silicone cock up against your stomach to be ready to fuck. You put it on earlier while he bathed - tucking it in your pants to keep it out of the way. Seeing you unzip your work slacks and have a heavy silicone cock fall from them evokes a reaction in Rafayel that endears you endlessly. A bitten lip while a shiver wracks through him.
Deciding your pants will get in the way, you make quick work of wriggling out of them completely before returning between Rafayel’s legs. You spit in your hand and stroke yourself with it, wetting your cock before letting it rest against Rafayel’s own.
“How do you want it?” You ask.
“Like this,” He says, unmoving. He seems certain on that end but he’s hesitating. “But I want you to…”
He looks away. You try not to grin but fail.
“You were being so bold a second ago,”
He rolls his eyes. “Well a second ago someone was trying to rearrange my insides so I didn’t have to think very hard,”
“So, should I do it again, then? I think we’ll get better results that way.”
“You’re so noisy. I don’t pay you for this,” He pauses. “I want you to hug me while we… like be close to me.”
You pause before smiling gently. You’re so charmed by the innocence of it. It’s so unlike him. Being away from you must’ve bothered him more than he cared to admit. Softening, instantly - you lean forward and press your lips to his forehead.
“Sure. Anything else?”
“Ugh. Not for now. But it’s annoying. I should be running you into the ground by now but here you are,”
“Making good on my promise?,” You finish. Rafayel doesn’t refute you. You kiss his shoulder blade. “Anything you want today. I’m yours.”
“Say it again,”
“All yours.”
He wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you down. “…Hurry up and fuck me then.”
Complying with his wishes, you sit back on your knees as you line your cock up with Rafayel’s entrance and push. He gasps as you slide the fat head of your cock in, a wicked smile on your face as you watch his hole stretch out and around you. Three fingers is more than enough prep. It makes filling him so easy.
Still, the stretch - the feeling of being full is nothing like just fingers. You watch as Rafayel’s body adjusts to it. Inch by inch, you rock your hips forward gently until he’s swallowed your cock up half-way. He’s trembling as you lean forward. Waiting for you to bottom out before he pulls you forward for as much skin to skin as he can have. Your chest squishes against him.
When his hips roll for you to go deeper, you take it as a sign. With all of your strength, you hold onto his waist bury yourself inside of him in another single thrust. His nails dig into your shoulder, his voice next to your ear as you. Tightening his grip, he cries out at the sudden movement
You can feel him shake underneath you, cock clenching hard while you hold him.
“Fuuck,” He goes stone stiff underneath you before starting to tremor more violently. “Fuck, oh fuck.”
Realization dawns on you a few seconds later. “Did—did you cum just from putting it in?”
He opens his eyes and frowns at you.
“Shut up. I didn’t get to cum earlier.”
You laugh. “You’ll kill me being this cute. I don’t know what to do.”
“I could give you an idea if you’re going to just sit there,”
His impatience amuses you.
“Sorry. I’ve got you. Cum as much as you want.”
You anchor yourself, pulling out slowly and internally groaning at the resistance as you do. How his hole grips onto you so tight it feels nearly hard to move despite know how stretched he is. A phantom sensation fills your waist as you feel his stomach shift as you thrust.
Heeding earlier requests, you use your hips to set a pace to fuck Rafayel the way he wants. The ins and outs of his body come naturally to you now. Finding the right pace, the right motion, the right angle - all come easier to you than you even remember. On muscle memory, you hike Rafayel’s legs up and begin to fuck him deep. Not too fast, not too slow - but consistent in grinding against that sweet spot. Deliberately thrusting your hips up, you try to direct all the remaining focus into fucking him as good as you can.
You know you’ve hit the right places when his grip on you gets tighter. His legs locked around your back, Rafayel is a mess underneath you even when you’ve barely begun. Like he can’t stop cumming, his body helplessly wound as your hips clap his ass.
The moans that come out of him, broken and sweet. More angelic then pornographic but lewd enough to make you dizzy with the urge to pin him up and fuck him harder. Groaning when you fuck him just right. You can feel his cock against your stomach with how close your bodies are as you grind - twitching. Pre-cum leaking in long spurts and wetting your skin.
You coo at him feeling it start to be easier to fuck him.
“It’s just like a pussy, huh? You take me so good inside of you. It feels like you were made for it,” You press kisses wherever your lips can find the skin. On his face, his mouth, on his shoulders. You can barely make sense of your own filth, your mind moving on it’s own as your body chases its own arousal. Your clit is grinding against the base of your strap-on so well like this, you could easily chase the high and find your own orgasm with seconds. You’re too busy paying attention to make well on it. “I like when you act cute like this. Usually you’d put up a fight about it but you’re asking without fuss. It’s precious seeing you fall apart on my cock.”
He moans your name like an incantation, another dribble of cum spilling. He can’t stop cumming. Just shuddering beneath you, his face in your shoulder and panting like he can’t find the words.
“All mine, yeah? Everything, all of you. It’s all mine to tend to, so you can be as selfish as you want.” You hum, encouraged by the whimpering repetition of please in his voice. He’s being so pliant, so good. You can’t help yourself. “Take when you need. Cum when it feels good for you. I want you to feel good. Want to make you feel so good you can’t stand it. Think you can do that? Come on,”
Rafayel moans brokenly into your neck. “I’m g-gonna cum so hard, fuck—feels like I can’t stop, please don’t stop, fuck me,”
“Shh it’s okay. I wont stop until you tell me.” You tuck yourself against his neck, kissing it before biting his ear lobe. He gasps. “Don’t think about anything other than cumming for me.”
“Fuck,” His nails dig into your biceps, coiling you around as you get close. “Fuck me. P-please—I’m cumming, I’m cu -“
Rafayels whole body stiffens under the weight of your body. You fuck him steady, pinning him down as he cums. His cock pushes hard against your stomach, twitching helplessly as his cum spills in streams. His back curls up, gripping onto you tightly as he moans loud and unabashed, euphoria splintering through his muscles. You fuck him through it until he rides out his high - his body loosening up as soon as it passes.
The sound of cum unsticking from your skin as you part from Rafayel makes you grin. You pull back out of slowly and get on your knees. You use your hand to wipe the cum off of your stomach and smear it against Rafayel’s hole.
“You made a mess,” You say brightly. Rafayel pants, looking up at you. Before you can ask, his voice trembles. He weakly reaches for your hand.
“Let me make you finish,” He says, abrupt. You blink at him owlishly. “Please.”
“Isn’t this about you?”
He frowns, looking at you seriously.
“It is. And I’m telling you I want you sit on my face and cum on it. Please.”
You give him a look before breaking out into a laugh. You stand onto your knees and undo the buckles of your harness - shimmying out of them. “I can’t refuse you if you ask like that but I don’t think it’ll be long.”
“It’ll just be once for now,”
“For now?”
He nods matter-of-factly. “You still owe me after the crimes of neglect you’ve committed against me.”
“Right.”
“And I’ve decided I want to exercise my rights to eat pussy until sunrise.”
“I see,” You say bemused. “And this is… revenge I take it? And not perhaps, an act of goodwill towards me.”
“I have no reason to show you good will, do I?”
You break out into more laughter.
“Right. We’ll be even after today then, at least.”
“Hurry,” Rafayel says again, after settling it. Same puppy dog look in his eyes as before, back in instant. You can’t help but be charmed by how quickly he reverts back into desiring your attention.
Rafayel lays down as you take your strap-on off and crawl over towards him. Deciding you’re not done with him for the day - you stand on your knees just over his chest and spread your pussy apart for him to see. He’s not expecting it, evidenced by the way his eyes go wide at the sight.
“Even without cumming, making you feel good turned me on this much. Is that what you were hoping to know?”
Rafayel goes flush again. “I never said that.”
“So difficult,” You hum. “Come on. Can I sit?”
Rafayel barely masks his enthusiasm as he nods. You crawl over him further before carefully setting yourself above his face. You try to avoid letting the full weight rest on him, but Rafayels hands are on you in an instant. With the same desperate grip he had while you were fucking him, he pulls your thighs down until your pussy is in his mouth - tongue out and lapping up wetness instantly. You shiver at the desperate movement of his tongue.
It gets your body hot all over again. Your fingers thread through the purple strands of hair for anchor as you push yourself against his willing mouth like you’re fucking his face. Your own desires hadn’t crossed your mind until now, but now that you’re aware of it - that familiar restless lust returns to you tenfold You shiver as the familiar flames of arousal stoke back up inside of you.
Your gut honeyed, sticky lust making your limbs feel thick. You use your other hand to tweak your nipples as you rock your hips back and forth. Rafayel lies underneath you obediently, eagerly - his hands helping you move at the pace you want without complaint. He always manages to surprise you. His willingness to give to you making you feel weak in the knees.
Already so worked up, it takes you hardly any time to reach your climax. You feel it in your waist, body going slack as the knot inside of your stomach uncoils. You let out a short cry, hands tightening in Rafayel’s hair as you cum all over his face - swearing as you do. You feel Rafayel moan against you, reverberating through you as you ride out your high and finish.
You pull away from his sated, pulling back to see him wiping his chin before licking his fingers. The look in his eyes sends an amused sort of arousal through you.
“You look like you’re going to eat me.” You say. Rafayel nods.
“I mean… I’m certainly trying.”
You laugh tiredly, swiping your thumb against his cheek with a smile.
“After we clean up and have dinner,” You say. “I have some mandatory time off so I won’t be called in.”
“I won’t let you sleep,” He says, clingy again - face pressed against your thigh. You grin. His many moods make you so weak to him.
You bend down to kiss his forehead.
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
✮ a/n ; rafayel fans . let me know if this was okay im lacking confidence but i had writing him. i want to keep like a spoiled housecat maybe.
189 notes
·
View notes
Text
Worship
Summary: Patrice needs to know how Terry feels about her changing body.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy, Smut (18+)
MASTERLIST
“Do you still think I’m pretty?”
If one question could suck all of the oxygen out of the room and put it all back in a gust of disorienting, bitter wind, that was it. Patrice hadn’t intended her inquiry to be an abrupt interruption to an otherwise calm evening, but she couldn’t allow the thought to torment her any longer.
Patrice watched Terry from the large mirror in front of them, her bottom lip trapped beneath her top row of teeth while she watched him lean over and spit toothpaste out of his mouth into his sink. Sympathy flashed across his face as he looked back at her. “Of course I do. I think you’re beautiful.”
“Are you still attracted to me? And not just in theory or what you remember about my body from five months ago. I mean, right now. Pregnant, showing, and all. Am I still sexy to you?”
“Patrice…”
Closing her eyes, Patrice shook her head and lifted her palm to stop Terry before he jumped into a diatribe for what she considered a cut-and-dry question. “Please, don’t do that, Terrence. Answer me. Do you still see me as a woman worthy of your sexual attention? Yes or no?”
“Yes, baby. You are.”
Hearing his answer sent a rush of sadness coursing through Patrice’s veins. She wasn’t sure what she hoped to hear, but that wasn’t it. That only created more uncertainty and a slew of questions she wasn’t sure were still worth asking. Still, she persisted, letting her inquisitive nature take over when she wished she could be quiet and go to bed in blissful ignorance/
“Then why,” A painful lump grew in her throat as tears pricked her waterline. Patrice swallowed it back to try and muscle through her interrogation without allowing her emotions to derail. “Why haven’t you touched me? It’s been three months of nothing. What you’re saying to me doesn’t match your actions.”
Strained silence blanketed the bathroom, competing with the humidity responsible for lingering droplets in the air for which one could douse the embers of reconciliation the fastest.
Physical and mental changes had thrown Patrice into a loop. Every day, her insides were shifted and stretched to what felt like capacity, bringing a bevy of brand-new feelings that rocked her with every unexpected mood swing. Rays of joy reminded her she’d be meeting a life she helped create intermingled with tormenting thoughts of her attractiveness or lack thereof, keeping her lips glued shut for fear that she’d sound bonkers to her husband. So, she kept them all inside or in the privacy of weekly chats with her girls, hoping the kinks would work themselves out, and they could return to the love she recognized.
“I’m not trying to put the blame on you or me,” she tried to explain when she wasn’t greeted with a response from Terry. “I just…I noticed we’ve slipped away from each other. We barely touch outside of a kiss or a hug. The little comments are gone. We’re flirting less. We haven’t been us, Terrence and Patrice, since we saw this baby on that machine a few months ago, and I’m the only one who seems to notice!”
He sighed and furrowed his brows. “I notice, Treece. I just…I don’t know. I don’t know what to do or how to be. This is my first time.”
“It’s mine too, Terry! But what does that have to do with who we are! What happens when the baby gets here? Is this going to be our life forever? Is this just it?”
Terry didn’t know what to say. The raging winds of life had blown him to and fro as a husband and father-to-be. Where he thought he was balancing both responsibilities with impeccable efficiency, he missed the signs of his wife’s distress. He couldn’t recount where he went wrong to rectify his misgivings. What’s worse is that he didn’t see an avenue to admit his confusion, fearing he’d sound crass and uncaring in the face of Patrice’s concern.
So, they stood there in silence, letting unspoken words snuff out the already dying flames of intimacy.
The stench followed them into a new week marred by disjointed interactions and tight lips. They existed like passing ships in the night, exchanging pleasantries typical of a couple who’d long let go of the rope, not one still possessing the will to fight but lacking the how.
Sounds of children playing and birds chirping filtered through the open kitchen window as Patrice sat at the kitchen table, clicking through pages and pages of baby items to fill their shower registry. Terry watched her from the entryway, quietly admiring how glistening sun rays gave dimension to her fresh dye job and highlighted glowing skin. Her belly curved beneath one of his long-sleeved t-shirts, clothing her and their heir in his presence even though they were still on the outs. The soft smile gracing her face while she undoubtedly occupied her mind with color schemes and furniture layouts made him grin before he could stop the corners of his lips from creeping upward.
He missed her. The notion of missing someone he slept next to every night felt as alien as wearing two left shoes, but it was the truth. It was a starting point. And, as long as he had a starting point, he could map his way back to where they belonged.
“Can I do something for you, Mr. Richmond?”
Patrice’s question startled Terry out of his thoughts and set him on a path toward the kitchen. “How’d you know I was there?” He asked before stopping short to rest his hand on her upper back. The habit made her lean into his touch and the lingering kiss he held against her temple.
“Heavy feet, remember?” Their stilted chuckles synced into a familiar cadence, slowly releasing the valve on latent tension. She looked up at him and smiled. “You okay? Need something?”
“Actually, yeah. Mind if I sit down?”
“It’s your kitchen table, too. Sit wherever you want.”
Curious eyes under long lashes watched Terry round the table to drag his usual seat closer to hers. An inner battle made him look into the backyard from the window when they locked gazes, biding him time to gather his thoughts until he felt satisfied with their direction. He looked back, bathing her in a soft, doting gaze. “You are unbelievably attractive to me, Treecey. There’s not much you can do to turn me off.”
“So, what’s stopping you? Is it something I’m doing?”
“No, no, no,” Terry rushed to reassure, gently placing his palms on her thighs for a squeeze. “Can I be honest?”
Patrice nodded back at him, praying that what existed on the other side of his extended pause wouldn’t act as a wrecking ball on her wavering self-image.
Terry scooted closer until Patrice’s knees fit perfectly between his before lacing their fingers together. His eyes didn’t waiver as he spoke the only truth he knew. “I don’t know how to interact with this new version of you. After all these years, you still make me nervous. I was nervous when we started dating again. I was nervous on our wedding night. Now, your body is changing, and I’m more nervous around you than ever,” He admitted. “I’m afraid I might hurt or bother you when you’re tired and trying to catch a break between all you have going on. But, I guess I let being nervous keep compounding until I made you feel like you aren’t the most beautiful woman in the world at all times.”
Patrice’s resolve had long morphed her first dose of hot tears for the day, the sensation coming in so quick that a few slipped past her fingers when she tried to tame them. “Am I, really?”
Moving forward, Terry brought his hands up to rest on Patrice’s cheeks. “You’re gorgeous to me, baby. I’m so sorry I ever made you think you weren’t.”
Patrice closed her eyes to feel the feathery caress of lips across her nose and cheeks. He’d run out of words. All he had left was desperate pleas in the form of physical affection to atone for all his sins.
She accepted each one with no pushback, melting into his touch as the weight of untold battles began sliding down her heavy shoulders.
“It wasn’t just you.” Patrice’s confession came with a deep breath to settle herself. “Every time I step out of the house, someone is commenting on my body or touching me. ‘Oh, you’re carrying high!’ or ‘Girl, you gettin’ big fast!’ It’s too much. I thought I was strong enough to validate myself because that’s what I’ve been doing, you know? But I couldn’t. So, when it felt like you were pushing me away for the one thing I can’t control, I spiraled. I shouldn’t have let it get that far, but I didn’t know how to speak to you without losing my shit. These hormones are kicking my ass.”
Loud, harmonious laughter meshed to heal aching souls navigating their first storm as parents-to-be. Terry watched Patrice’s face light up like stars over the countryside and smiled as he reached up to dry unshed tears gathered in her eye’s inner corners. “That’s okay. Lose your shit every once in a while. Now’s the perfect time.”
Patrice sighed before reaching for Terry’s wrist to anchor her racing thoughts. Her eyes bore into familiar green pools that always regarded her with love that felt almost too overwhelming to absorb. She watched him mouth a sincere ‘I love you’ that made her skin tingle from head to toe. She gripped him tighter, hoping he could feel the effect he had on her.
“Listen, baby, I’m five months pregnant, not dead,” Patrice laughed, earning a bright smile from Terry. “I still want my husband. I still want to be wanted by you, too. Because your validation means a lot to me. Especially while I’m changing like this.”
Terry dropped a hand to make space for an incoming round of kisses, each deeper than before. “I want you, Piggy,” he spoke before pressing another kiss to her lips. “I’ll always want you. We’ll be 90 in the nursing home, and I’ll still be chasing behind you with my walker and calling you my girlfriend.”
“Good,” Patrice giggled, tickled by the imagery of a distant version of themselves still head over heels with time winding down on their time together. Static passed between them. Touches became magnified. Pupils dilated with an incoming flood of endorphins. She bit her lip before finishing her thought. “Because if I’m half as horny at 90 as I have been for the last few weeks, we’ll have to keep the nurses on speed dial.”
“It’s been like that,” Terry questioned, his eyebrow arching.
Patrice moved his hand closer to the meeting of her thighs, hoping he could feel the throb matching her increasing heartbeat. “It’s been like that.”
Terry let his eyes wander across Patrice’s face to linger on her lips before looking back at her with drooping eyelids. His voice emerged from beyond his lips, sounding like hot chocolate on a winter morning. “Let me fix that for you. Show you how much I want you until you tell me to stop?”
An offer she couldn’t and wouldn’t dare refuse. Permission granted with a short nod and shallow breaths set them on a path down the hallway and into their bedroom, where the sweet symphony of early evening lovemaking was poised to reclaim its space in their lives.
Patrice lay in wait, lower back and hips lifted off the mattress by a throne of pillows arranged for her comfort near the edge of the bed while she watched Terry arrange scented candles on the dresser in all his naked glory.
At some point, she’d find time to thump the back of his head for using her expensive stuff to set the mood. But tonight, she chose to focus on the sensual shadows dancing across his body as he stepped between her legs and leaned forward to see her face under dim candlelight.
“Comfortable,” he asked as his hands roamed from her knees to her thighs and back in an effort to soothe his bubbling nerves. “Google says I should have a wedge for you, but I hope that’ll do.”
Patrice sank deeper into her cocoon and nodded. “This is perfect. I’m okay.”
“You promise to let me know when you aren’t?” He waited for Patrice to respond verbally in the affirmative before gingerly lifting her right leg to bring her ankle to his lips for a slow kiss. “What’d Mookie say in Do The Right Thing? Thank God for the ankles?”
He dropped a kiss against her calf before nuzzling the spot. “Thank God for the legs.” He inched further to suckle Patrice’s fleshy inner thigh, drawing a soft sigh from her as a reward for his good deed. “Thank God for these thighs. I love them so much.”
He set his sights on the swell of her growing belly, rounding day by day with the promise of a little bundle of joy made in their image. He kissed his way past her belly button and up to her breasts, lingering on his name written in slanted script before moving again. “Thank God for the left nipple and the right.”
Patrice let her eyes flutter closed as he directed her hands to the back of his head while expertly pulling one of her nipples between his teeth. Terry lavished each areola with attention from his tongue, letting quiet moans serenade him until he backed off to say more.
“Thank God for all this gorgeous skin.” He rubbed his nose up her sternum into the crook of her neck. “Thank God for the way you smell. Nothing in this world compares to how it drives me crazy.”
Patrice arched into the kisses Terry left along her neck until her core ached for his attention.
Every sensation, every lick and practiced nibble at the hands of the only man to satisfy the nooks and crannies of her womanhood, and then some felt intensified ten times over.
The second trimester had done a number on her. Her best friends and OBGYN all confirmed that the gnawing, insatiable sexual appetite she’d developed was normal and meant to be harnessed before her libido waned on the way to the final stretch.
“Men used to fight wars for women like you. And here you are, giving me chance after chance to get it right.”
She whimpered into his ear. “Baby.” Her nails lightly scratched at his shoulder blades, begging for a touch only he could provide. “Please, Terrence. Don’t make me wait.”
How could he deny her? She’d asked so nicely and waited so patiently to have him joined to her at the waist. He owed her swift pleasure after all he’d put her through while the stress of growing ten fingers and ten toes reigned down new emotions every other day.
Terry didn’t tarry on his way to granting her wish. He stood flat-footed before her, slightly bending his knees to deepen their kiss as they reveled in the feeling of his tip gathering wetness at her opening.
“Tell me when to stop,” he breathed against her mouth. “I know I can’t go too deep. Say when.”
Their lips remained connected throughout his measured re-introduction to her body until a shared gasp turned two breaths into one. Patrice’s jaw dropped as he inched closer and closer to her limit. He watched her with intense focus and a furrowed brow, waiting for her to make the call.
A little deeper. A little more. Almost. So close. “Right there,” she called out, her hands gripping his biceps to maintain her tether to reality. “Mm, right there.”
He rolled his hips in a fluid, intentional back and forth, letting the tug from her walls set his start and endpoints. He lifted a hand from its space beside her hips to guide one of hers back toward the mattress for their fingers to interlock.
Terry murmured variations of ‘I love you’ while Patrice allowed him to gently rock her through rolling waves of pleasure until moans turned into screams trapped in her throat. Strong legs acted with equal parts power and restraint to coax her into the release she deserved.
He carefully leaned forward to rest his weight on his forearms and speak against her mouth once she felt her getting close to the promised land. “Look, this beautiful body carrying my baby. I was an idiot for wasting all this time when you needed me most. You forgive me, Piggy?”
“Mhmm,” Patrice managed to whine as the coil in her body began to tighten in preparation for her orgasm.
He shook his head, needing more. “Say it. Tell me you forgive me.”
“Yes!” She answered, tossing her head back to revel in the euphoria spreading across her limbs. “Yes! I forgive you!”
“My beautiful girl,” he whispered as he thrust into her, feeling the tips of her nails turn his skin into her personal emery board. He blinked away the mix of pain and pleasure to finish showering Patrice in praise. “You always have been.” He could feel her tightening around him, spurring a falter in his stroke that quickened his pace. He panted to match her deep breaths, turning a simple sentence into one he had to grit through clenched teeth. “You always will…be. Fuck, I’m…fuck.”
Ninety days of pent-up emotions and withheld affection came with an orgasm strong enough to push Terry up on his toes while he listened to Patrice marvel at what he’d gifted her with his hard work.
They heaved until heaving became delirious laughter, then ‘til laughter circled back to needy kisses missed during their time apart.
Patrice pulled Terry close, cradling the back of his head to speak into his ear while leaving budding markers of his love under her earlobe. “I don’t want you thinkin’ that’s all for tonight.” Terry slowly released her skin from his lips and pulled away to answer with a quizzical look. Patrice pushed up on her forearms to nip at his bottom lip.
“Come on. Get me off my back. It's your turn to be worshipped.”
--------
Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!
TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @ghostfacekill-monger @nyifly22
168 notes
·
View notes
Text
𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK
daddy jungkook (literally)
; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)
+ comment if u wnna be added to the taglist
— 1/??
“seriously though, you have to fuckin’ quit that job already.”
Sasha, who happens to be your best friend ever since you started working at the local elementary school, just lectured you again. she was already teaching there when you arrived, you spent your lunch breaks with her and even be each other’s substitute sometimes.
surprisingly, she quit a few months after that. you stayed close though. at first, she was dying to know the drama happening among the teaching staff, but as shit kept going down which included you and the principal, all you ever hear from her is that you need to quit.
it wasn’t a huge surprise to her when you first told her your boss, aka the school’s principal, asked you out. it was weird, but everyone knew he was.. a little desperate. he had asked most of the female teachers out, some who agreed could only say bad things about the experience.
you declined his offer politely, explaining that you don’t want your personal life to mix with your job. it was awkward after that, but turns out he seems to be the dumbest person on earth. he asked you out two weeks after that, again.
still to this day, he keeps asking you out over and over and you keep rejecting him over and over again. sure, he got a lil’ crush on you, sweet, right? fuck no. he’s a pervert, doesn’t know what personal space is.
“but i need the money. i don’t know where else i could get such good salary.” you told her, for the nth time.
“be a stripper,” Sasha casually said, sipping on her diet coke while your eyes widened.
“don’t say nonsense, dafuq..” you both shared a giggle, but you definitely won’t put that job idea on the bottom of your list. maybe in the middle, or top 5. if you really can’t find a good place, then gotta be top 3.
“you could be one until you save enough money, then look for a less crazy one.”
“there’s never enough money, sasha.” you sighed, fuck inflation. when you grew up and finished studying, you realized the hardest part of being an adult was money. it’s crazy how difficult it is to make a living.
“if you don’t give in your quitting notice tomorrow, i’m gonna do it for you instead.” she narrowed her eyes at you.
“i don’t want to make a decision too quick. not until i know i can find another job.”
“quit.”
“no.”
“quit.”
“no.”
“quit.”
…
“okay.”
she squealed in her chair, gaining some attention on the two of you.
“if you dare to lie to me right now, i’m gonna make you eat your own shit.”
you kicked her under the table, sending her a glare. “behave, bitch.”
┈ ⪩⪨ ┈
“oh, __! what brings you here today?” your boss, sehun immediately stood up from his chair, ready to greet you with a hug.
panicking, you reached your hand out with a paper, catching his attention. “this is..?”
“my resignation notice, sir.”
“your what?”
he took the paper from your grip, examining it carefully. his eyebrows fell together, eyes scanning every single word.
he backed up, resting on the edge of his table. he looked at the paper again, rereading the first sentence.
‘Kindly accept this letter as my formal resignation…’
“are you sure, __?” he asked, putting the paper on his table. he crossed his arms, frustration written on his face.
you fixed your hair, giving him a firm nod. “yeah, i’ve been thinking of it for a while now.”
“i’m glad i could be a part of this amazing team, but i just feel like,” you struggled to find the words, obviously you didn’t want to tell in his face.
‘aye bruh, stop bein’ a pervert and you might stop losing your workers’
“look, teaching isn’t my thing. and i feel horrible to find that out so late.”
“well, if your passion for teaching ever comes back, you’re more than welcomed here.”
“thank you,” you smiled, because even though he’s the most annoying person you’ve ever met, your co-workers have always been kind to you.
the children also love you, and you’re extremely thankful for all the support and love you got from everyone.
during the usual lunch break, you co-workers heard the news too. they all wished you the best with a hug, some getting emotional too.
officially, this was your last week working at the school.
when you got home, sasha sent you a link to an advertisement.
‘looking for a nanny’
you laughed, dialing her contact. didn’t take her long to answer, obviously. she’s always on her damn phone, even when working.
“you can’t be serious. a nanny?” you laughed, finding the idea of you with a kid ridiculous.
“have you seen the description? girl, they pay damn well!” she said, followed by her exhaling.
“didn’t you say you’re gonna stop smoking?”
“i stopped. for three hours.”
you shook your head, putting her on speaker as you clicked the advertisement.
“170.000₩?” you blurted out loud, “a day?!” sasha hummed on the other side of the call.
“told ya’..”
“that’s.. nice. woah, yeah, nice.” you mumbled as you continued to read the requirements and some important details about the job.
“give it a try.” sasha said, but your eyes caught a sentence.
“they want someone with experience, as expected.” you let out a long sigh and fell back on your bed.
“you got the experience.”
“me? sasha, i never looked after a kid-“
“you work with kids. first and second graders. and they all fuckin’ love you.”
“that’s different.” you groaned.
“it’s not. a kid is a kid. 3 year olds are just as damn annoying as 7 year olds. prove me wrong..”
you laughed, she was right. they can be a huge pain in the ass, but they have the purest soul.
“true.”
“give it a try, __.” she said again, calling you by your name. oh she’s serious serious.
“yeah, i might call tomorrow then.”
“might? no, you will.” she corrected you and you rolled your eyes.
“sure.”
you called them the next day after considering it for half a day, being the typical embarrassment, you called at the wrong time.
the man was in a hurry, so you both just quickly agree on a time to meet in person. that happened to be the day after.
you looked at the address one more time after you got off the bus, realizing it was more of a wealthy neighborhood. you only had to walk about 5 minutes until you got there, hesitantly but you pressed the bell.
a tall, young man opened the door. his skin is smooth and fair, almost perfect. his hair dark, slightly wavy which was styled in a mullet cut, longer at the back.
his choice in clothes seemed to be rich, a white ribbed polo shirt with short sleeves, causing your eyes to drop to his sleeve tattoo in a second. he paired it with black tailored trousers.
“hey, you must be __?” he asked with uncertainty and you came back to life, smiling to him.
“yeah, i am.”
“great, come in.”
he stepped aside and you walked in, taking off your shoes and jacket.
the house was oddly barely decorated, not a single picture or painting on the walls, very few plants, which you’re sure are fake plants also. the house wasn’t really colorful, most of the furnitures are bright. like beige and cream white.
“would you like a drink? water, tea, soda? maybe coffee?” he suggested as he walked in front of you, leading you to the living room.
“no, thank you.” you politely refused, feeling a little.. off in such a nice home. not something you’re used to.
you sat down on the couch, carefully not to mess the neatly placed pillows behind. god you looked so uncomfortable and awkward.
“i’d like to introduce myself again, in person this time.” he spoke as he sat down on the armchair, next to the couch.
“i’m jeon jungkook, 27. i’m a dentist in the center of seoul. i’m the father of a sweet angel, nabi. she turns 5 in a few weeks, we could say she’s in her, erm,” he struggled to find an appropriate word.
“crazy phase?” you asked with a smile.
“yeah, something like that. she’s been loud lately, that’s all.” he chuckled, resting his arms on his knees.
you nodded and held your small bag tightly, “i’d like to introduce myself better too, then.”
“i’m __, 24 and i currently work at an elementary school. i handed in my resignation letter and this is my last week as a teacher, so i’m searching for a new job currently.”
you paused, hesitant what else to say.
“elementary school? so, you work with kids?”
“yes, first and second grade.”
after a few minutes of getting to know each other more, a little girl, most likely his daughter, walked down the stairs with her sleepy appearance.
“oh!” she stopped the moment she saw you, the tiredness leaving her eyes.
“nabi, c’mere.” jungkook held out his hand, “this is __. what do you say?” he asked her, holding her tiny hands.
“hello.” she greeted you and you smiled, her shyness is adorable.
“hi.”
“__ is here because she would like to look after you.” he said and she looked up to him so fast, you thought her neck would snap.
“daddy, are you leeving me?” she gasped and jungkook chuckled at her words, shaking his head.
“no, but when i’m at work, someone needs to be here and take care of you. how about __, does she seem nice? hm?”
the little girl shrugged, hugging her father’s arm. he sent her back to the bedroom, saying he would be there soon too.
“well, she’s a little shy at first but, i think she’s gonna open up fast.” he smiled and stood up, your eyes widening a bit and you stood up too.
“does that mean, i got the job?”
“see you next monday?” he asked and you almost started jumping, but you held back. instead, you gave him a huge smile and nodded.
“monday then.”
#bts#bts jungkook#bts x reader#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x yn#jungkook fluff#bts fluff#bangtan#bangtan sonyeondan
309 notes
·
View notes
Text
let me (nam-gyu)
nam-gyu x gn!reader, 1.9k words, angst, fluff, smut
synopsis: you know your roommate, nam-gyu, has been struggling, and you offer him help him out in a… different way
warnings: smut!, allusions to drug abuse(nothing in detail), sub!nam-gyu, softdom!reader, handjob, really nothing too crazy, might be a little ooc nam-gyu
note: hi! this is weird for me because i haven’t posted my writing in years, but i wanted to share this because of the lack of squid game writing on here <3 i’m unsure whether i’ll post anything else, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless :)
—
sighing under the steaming hot water, you allowed your shoulders to relax for what seemed to be the first time all week. finally, it was friday, and your work week was over. finally, you had your break from your crappy 9-5 where you could feel your body rotting by the minute.
you wanted to quit, of course, but this job was the only thing keeping a roof over your head when you had to pay your share of the rent, and you knew surely your roommate wouldn’t be able to pay it by himself.
your roommate— nam-gyu— was not necessarily the ideal man to live with. you had your fair share of him stumbling into the apartment intoxicated, or him and his friends yelling obscenely at late hours. however, your past roommate had left without warning to move in with her boyfriend, and you were left scrambling.
thankfully, your friend se-mi, introduced you to nam-gyu, a man working at a club who had just been evicted from his last place for reasons he would never care to share. you had assumed it was something to do with the suspicious look in his eyes when he would come home in the middle of the night, sporting a chatty, boyish demeanor that clashed greatly with his typical standoffish and sarcastic personality. however, he never let you see what he actually took, murmuring something about it being “not anything someone like you should worry about”.
nam-gyu left you perplexed most of the time. of course, you were frustrated with him as a roommate, but there was times when you wished he would let you in as a friend. you knew nam-gyu wasn’t a bad guy. he kept his space clean and feed the stray cats outside of your apartment complex. he showed up at a moment’s notice when his friend called him after he was badly injured in a fight. however, he didn’t allow you to see when you knew he was struggling, even when you could hear his pained sobs he tried to muffle through the thin walls. you really had no basis to act on, but you knew that you wanted to support him.
with a groan, you turned off the running water and stepped out of the shower. tonight, there was nothing you could do about the pesky situation with your roommate, as you knew he had probably already left for his evening shift at the club. you wrapped a towel around your body and began your walk to your bedroom to get changed, but you gasped when you nearly bumped into another person.
“you scared the hell out of me!” you exclaimed, hand on your chest as you stared wide-eyed at the man in front of you.
“woah, shit, sorry. didn’t mean to scare you.” nam-gyu laughed, holding both of his hands up in surrender.
“what are you doing here, not at work?” you asked, shaking your head slightly to rid yourself of the shock in your lungs.
“ah, i got that one new guy to take my shift. i wasn’t in the mood to deal with shitty customers today.” he explained, stress evident in his tone. he rubbed his hands on his face before actually taking a second to look at you. when he realized your still damp body was only covered by a towel, his breath hitched in his throat, and he quickly adverted his gaze with pink ears.
“okay,” you paused with suspicion, eyeing nam-gyu in front of you. “just— are you going to have people over tonight? ‘cause i really don’t want to deal with so much noise.”
“nah, i won’t.” nam-gyu still wouldn’t meet your eyes.
“alright, cool. i’ll be in my room if you need me,” you replied, relieved, and made your way past him towards your room to get changed. nam-gyu froze in place as you walked past, squeezing his hands into fists at the smell of your body wash. he rubbed he face once again, before making a beeline towards his room, abandoning the soda he was about to grab in the fridge.
—
once changed into a comfortable loose tee and pair of sleep shorts, you collapsed into your bed, letting out a sigh. it didn’t take long, however, for you to reluctantly roll your body up due to the empty feeling in your stomach. you hadn’t eaten since your lunch break, but the idea of cooking made your shoulders sag down.
you figured your week was hard enough that you deserved take-out. you also figured that nam-gyu likely hadn’t eaten anything since you left your leftover lunch in the fridge yesterday— you had known he wouldn’t cook something himself and managed to cook too much once again anyways.
after allowing your feet to guide you down the unfamiliar track to nam-gyu’s bedroom, your hand froze in place hearing what sounded like.. your name? you held your breath at the sound, leaning closer to the door. it was, most definitely, your name being called— or really, more so whined, accompanied by soft gasps and erratic breathing.
was nam-gyu…crying? you remembered your thoughts earlier, and your heart felt pained at the idea. you considered your options. you could let nam-gyu struggle, possibly risking him doing something he would regret, or you could try and offer him help. or he could scream at you for intruding and never speak to you again.
you can’t keep allowing him to suffer alone, you reasoned with yourself and slowly turned the doorknob, but what you were meeting with was not a sobbing nam-gyu.
instead, the man lay on his bed with his eyes screwed shut and mouth slacked open, with one hand clutching his bedsheets and the other.. fisted around his cock at a nonforgiving pace. the very sight made you gasp, causing nam-gyu’s eyes to shoot open in your direction.
“holy shit!” he exclaimed, quickly pulling his blanket to cover himself.
you clapped your hands over your eyes, “fuck, i’m sorry!”
you heard nam-gyu swearing to himself quietly, and everything in you wanted to run back to your room in embarrassment, but something kept your feet planted to the ground. slowly, you peeled your hand from your eyes, looking at nam-gyu once more.
his entire body was flushed, and the shocked yet dazed in his eyes made your breath quicken. “i— why are you just standing there?!” he implored, eyes flicking over your face.
“you… were saying my name, right?” you ask breathlessly, and nam-gyu went rigid.
“what? no! no, no, no, of course not i was just—”
“you don’t have to lie.” you took a step closer.
“no, i— i wasn’t i swear. you’re my fucking roommate i wouldn’t—”o“really?” you cut him off again, analyzing his stressed expression. the furrowed eyebrows, sweaty skin, glossy eyes. “huh. i wish you were, though.”
“huh!? what do you— are you fucking with me?”
“no. i wish you were whimpering my name while you jack off.” your voice was uncharacteristically level, yet your heart was beating out of your chest. you couldn’t, however, let this opportunity pass. the idea of him wanting you excited you to no end, and it certainly helped that he looked so pretty like this.
“are you serious?” nam-gyu whispered, trying to detect if you were lying.
“of course. you don’t have to say yes but, i could.. help you out, if you wanted me to...”
all it took was a breathy “please..” for you to join nam-gyu on his bed. slowly, you eased his covers off of him, taking in the sight that transfixed you. his cock was pretty, with a flushed tip and a dribble of pre leaking out of it. what arosed you more, though, was his tear filled eyes and quivering lips.
“you’re entirely sure you want this?” you confirmed.
“yes, god, please. ‘want you more than anything.”
your thighs clenched together at his words. not taking your eyes off of his own, you wrapped your hand around the base of his length, and started to slowly move it up and down. nam-gyu let out a whine at the touch, his eyes casting to the ceiling.
your thumb swiped across his tip before continuing your movements. “doin’ so well, ‘gyu. keep looking at me, yeah?” you could sense how heavily your words effected nam-gyu with how much louder he became.
“‘s so good. fuck, you’re so good. ‘been thinking about this f’so long”
your eyes shot open in surprise. “really? how long, baby?”
“since i fucking meet you. fucking hell when i saw you, ah, in that towel i almost came right there”
your eyes rolled back at his words. he had always wanted you? while you were worried out of your mind about his well-being, he was undressing you in his mind? “fuck..” you murmured, feeling your own breath start to become rushed.
nam-gyu’s whines and groans turned into moans as you kept at your pace. you felt transfixed as your other hand traced his collarbone, feeling his erratic heartbeat in the center of his flushed chest. you knew that your heartbeat matched.
you could tell in the way his cock twitched and his body shook that nam-gyu was close. what made your breath hitch, though, was his own hand snaking up his chest to lace with your own, desperately. as if the touch was what he needed.
“shit, i’m—” nam-gyu came with a gasp, his chest heaving under your hands entwined, where he squeezed your hand with intensity.
“fuck, so good f’me..” you murmured, transfixed on the sight, your thumb rubbing circles on his hand with care.
nam-gyu opened his eyes with caution. “holy shit..” he breathed out, a pretty serene trace in his features that fought with the confusion he still had. “why did you—?”
you felt oddly struck with emotion. your hand tightened around his. “…i wanted to. i want to.. be here. with you. i’m— i’m sorry this is sappy at the wrong time but— i’ve been thinking about you for so long. please— let me be here..? you can use me however you want. even if it’s just a shitty handjob, i want to—”
“stop.” fear and embarrassment clogged up your chest. just as you we going to start apologizing, nam-gyu slowly brought your hand to his mouth, leaving a shaky kiss that left your skin sparkling in its wake. “i want you too. i’ve always wanted you. more than fucking sex. i—i’ve been scared as hell lately about everything but you.. you make me want to try.”
you felt speechless.
“i’m an asshole and you— you don’t deserve that. but,” nam-gyu had a pleading look in his eyes as he sat up, other hand cupping your warm cheek, “i want you. let me prove it.”
you couldn’t hold back yourself from letting the space between you close, groaning quietly as you felt his lips soft on yours. you felt his sincerity. you hadn’t before realized the care you held for nam-gyu had manifested into something so strong, but you felt a wash of relief as you let yourself bathe in the honesty that had bubbled out from between the two of you.
nam-gyu was first to pull away, and he looked at you with care and urgency in his eyes, “tomorrow i’ll take you out on a date. we— fuck— can figure everything out then, but right now i need more of you.”
“then take me.”
#nam-gyu#nam gyu x reader#squid game#squid game x reader#nam gyu x you#nam gyu imagine#squid game imagine#nam gyu smut#player 124#player 124 x reader#squid game smut
229 notes
·
View notes
Text
Loser. (Soap x Virgin!Reader.)
!NSFW, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, innocent reader, NO MINORS!
Unedited*
“You’d hit that? Even with how innocent Y/N is?”
“Ugh. Until her fuckin’ legs shake mate.” Soap laughs. Gaz rolls his eyes, laughing too. “You’re sick.”
“Nah, I think it’s an act.” Soap smirks. “No twenty-something year old is that naive.”
He doesn’t realize you’re listening on the other side of the door. They’d chose to have this conversation right outside the office you usually worked in. It was late and they didn’t figure you were still inside.
———
Later that night, you’re in the watch tower alone. It’s dark out, it’s pretty late. Soap is supposed to be up here with you, but you’re early. You’re curious about what he had said. What he meant by it anyways. Hit that? Until your legs shake? What does that even mean? You wanted to ask but also knew how wrong it had been of you to eavesdrop in the first place.
Soap walks through the door and startles you out of your daydream and you act as if you hadn’t heard his entire conversation earlier with Gaz. “Hey little lady.” He smiles. “Hi Johnny.” You smile back at him. Looking away quickly. He can tell that you’re acting off. “Everything alright?” He asks. “Uh.. yeah.” You mumble. He can tell you’re off. You knew that you should have listened to the others on base and stayed away from him. Sarah and Layla had told you on more than one occasion to stay away from him but had never actually explained why. You knew that the two could be a little overdramatic at times.
“I have a question actually.” Soap says, sliding a chair up to sit next to you. “Why do you wear your hair like that?” He asks.
“L-like what?” You brush it down. He makes you nervous, you aren't sure why.
“It’s always done up real nice. Sometimes you even got cute clips in it and stuff.” He toys with the ends that hang by your face, seeing the way your cheeks redden by his touch alone. You look down with a laugh. “Uh.. I’m not sure. I guess it’s just something I picked up on from my mo-“ you pause, shaking your head.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks. “Uh.. it’s just… I guess I just don’t like to talk about my parents.” You mumble. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’ll listen anytime you’d like.” He smiles, resting a hand on your knee. It doesn’t seem like it, but Johnny is being genuine. The other girls' words are always echoing around in your head. Johnny seemed nice and you needed to ignore what they said sometimes.
“They uh… they were very religious. So far beyond the normal extent that it was like a cult.” You look up at him. “No offense but is that kind’ve why you’re a little…”
“Sheltered?” You smile. “Well I wasn’t gonna say it.” He laughs.
“Yes it is. They didn’t let me have exposure to stuff like TV or books. Homeschooled all my life, expected to be well kempt and tidy. I guess some things just stuck. My room is spotless and my hair is always fixed.” You shrug. He smiles. “I like it though. Wouldn’t be you if it wasn’t I suppose.” He laughs.
“So. I know I shouldn’t have been listening, but I heard you talking to Gaz earlier.”
Soaps cheeks nearly light on fire.
“Uhhh. You weren’t supposed to hear it.” He laughs. “I’m sorry.”
“Well if you’re saying sorry it means it wasn’t good, what you were saying. I don’t know what that means.”
He furrows his brows in confusion. “Do uh… you not know what Sex is?”
Your eyes widen. “What? Y-yeah I know what it is. What does that have to do with this?” He sees the way you start to backtrack. How nervous you get talking about it. “I’d hit that” he laughs, repeating himself. In disbelief you have no idea what he meant when he said it. He looks down at the ground away from you. “It’s… a slang term. For sex.” He laughs. You look confused. “You’ve never heard it?” He asks. “No. I know what sex is but I’ve not mapped out the slang terms I guess. So what you were saying.” You swallow hard. Eyes finally moving up to meet his. You're starting to realize what he had meant. “You…” You’re very hesitant. “I would have sex with you, that’s what I meant.” He laughs. You try to play it off with a small laugh but he can see that you’re different now. “I’ve.. I’ve never um…” you rest your hand on the back of your chair. “I know. I can tell.”
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. "I honestly thought that this was some kind of act you were putting up. Until you mentioned your parents. I feel like a dick now. I shouldn't have said what I said and I want you to know that what I was saying was really disrespectful of me. I shouldn't have been saying anything like that." He looks down at his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.
"What?" You ask. "I thought that wanting to have sex with someone is like a compliment or something." You mumble. "It is. Well. Kind of." He shakes his head with a laugh. "Look. It's awkward but I'll teach you all of the stupid slang terms alright? It doesn't make sense, you're supposed to grow up hearing this stuff and learn what it means along the way alright?" He laughs. You nod your head. "Okay. Yeah. Got it. " You blush. "Thank you Johnny." You mumble. "Course.” He laughs.
“You said something else too uh… until my legs shake? What does that mean?” Johnny’s face is on fire, embarrassed and blushing. How is he supposed to explain this away?
He sighs. “Well. This is what I get for being gross ah?” He laughs. “Sometimes during sex if it’s.. rough enough or good enough, your legs will shake. I guess. It’s more complex than that. You know.. Um... I'm gonna write down a website and I want you to look it up. Don't be scared alright? And don't watch it with anyone else around, it's bad."
"If it's bad why are you telling me to watch it?" You ask. "Because... It's about sex and you know how apprehensive you are about it. Everyone else is too. This website it's for adults only, watch it alone. You'll understand. If you see something you want to know about you can ask me or research it on like... an incognito browser on your phone. I'll show you how to do that too." He mumbles. He picks up a piece of printer paper and looks around until he finds a pen. He writes down the very familiar website and than shows you on your phone how to get to an incognito browser. Reminding you to never watch it with people around.
You have an idea of what he's telling you to look up.
Later that night when you’re off watch, you’re making sure your earbuds are connected to your phone before you look up the website he’s telling you about, the front page is intimidating enough before you even click on a video.
Hours later you’re still awake. The amount of terms you’ve learned about, the videos you’ve seen.
You feel corrupted.
Urban Dictionary and a Porn website have turned your entire life around. No wonder your parents kept you sheltered.
You finally fall asleep just a couple hours before you’re supposed to be awake. A new ache between your legs and you’re unsure how to fix it or make it feel better. The next day, you’re exhausted but everything you had learned the night before changed your perspective on everything. The conversations you had overheard from the men on base suddenly made so much sense. Why Layla and Sarah had told you to stay far away from Johnny made so much sense now.
“Uh.. Earth to Y/N. You alright?” Ghost waves his hand in your face and you jerk back away from him, swallowing hard. “Uh.. yeah. Sorry. Just didn’t sleep well.”
“Something keeping you awake love?” Ghost places his hand on your knee and Johnny watches across from the table as you go completely stiff, looking down at his hand. “Yeah.” You say it, “wait no. No I mean no. Sorry.” You shake your head, standing up fast. “Just slept in too late yesterday. I’ve got to go get some paperwork done.” You mumble. “See you guys around.” You wave, hurrying out of the mess hall and into your office. “What was that about?” Ghost laughs. "I think she's just stressed." Johnny laughs. He was getting a little nervous by your reaction. Maybe he had given you too much all at once.
———
You were desperate. You didn't care anymore. It had been almost two weeks since Johnny had showed you the website. He'd answered any questions you had, didn't matter how awkward.
You had so much pent up arousal. You were horny from days and days of watching nothing but videos. You wanted anything. You hurried up the watch tower stairs, heart thudding in your chest. You step inside, nerves growing as you such in a sharp breath. “Hey, everything okay?” He asks.
You swallow hard. “Yeah…”
“No not really.” You mumble. You take your seat like usual and face away from Johnny for a second. You don’t know how to ask him for help, you feel shameful. “What’s goin on? I do somn?” He asks. “Yeah. Yeah you did. You showed me what porn is and now I feel weird all of the time.” You huff. He laughs. “You don’t feel weird. You’re just horny.” You sigh. Tilting your head back and closing your eyes. “Yeah well. It sucks!” You groan. You feel tears pricking your eyes from your frustration. “What, touching yourself isn’t enough?” He laughs. “Touching myself?”
The thought of you doing that sounds foreign. “Oh dear… don’t tell me you’ve been watching 2 weeks worth of porn and haven’t made yourself cum.” He laughs. You stay quiet. “Poor girl, no wonder you’re so frustrated.” He laughs. You stand up, pacing back and forth slow. You’re trying to think to yourself. “I don’t really know how, no really. I’ve seen videos but they’re usually not helpful in the slightest.” Johnny glides his tongue over his bottom lip. Seeing you so frustrated has him a little riled up himself. “I.. not sure how much trust me.” He laughs.
You turn to look at him. Your pupils are blown wide.
“I could show you… if you wa-“
You nod your head before he even finishes his sentence. He leans forward in his chair, motioning you to come forward with his fingers. Your stomach fills with butterflies.
“Just uh.. take a deep breath, alright?” You nod your head. You’re still standing a ways away from him. He reaches out, pulling you forward by the back of your thigh, until you’re right directly in front of him. He looks up at you. “S’alright lass. Nothing to be nervous about.” He mumbles. You’ve sat next to Johnny sure, but this is different. You’re closer to him than you ever have been. He smells like cologne and hair pomade. You close your eyes as you he reaches for your cargo pants. You don’t make any movements to stop him. He continues. He unbuttons them, slow. He doesn’t want to startle you or move too fast. He wants to give you ample time to stop him. You have a choice, he wants to make that known. He tugs them down slightly, you close your eyes tight. Biting your lip. What you were about to trust him with was a lot. Further than you’ve ever gone with anyone else.
He grasps the waistband of your panties, pushing them down just far enough he could get a hand between them and your skin. He glides his hand between them.
Johnny glides the side of his pointer finger across your slit. Collecting your arousal on his finger. When he draws it away he can see just how wet you are. It drives him fucking crazy.
He parts his fingers, seeing strings of your arousal across them. His cock is rock hard in seconds, by far the most turned on he’s ever been in his life. He lets out a laugh. Shaking his head. “My god you are wet.” he shakes his head, biting his lip. He growls under his breath. He wants to devour you. Fuck you until your legs really shake, until you’re crying out for more. “You been watching more videos, Bonnie?” He asks. You nod your head. “See you’ve found one you like” he chuckles. You chew at your lip nervously. “Johnny..” you whine. “Hm?”
“I want to know what it feels like to cum..” you look down at him. “Please show me.” You whine.
“I’ll show you, doll. Just relax into me okay?” He breathes. “Cmere, why don’t you sit in my lap.” He pulls you forward. You spin around, sitting down on him. You can feel his erection pressing into you. He pushes your cargo pants and panties down further, until one of your legs is completely free. “Prop your leg up on me, don’t be shy.” He sighs. His warm breath is right against your ear. He pushes your hair behind your ear, he wants you to hear him. He’s going to talk you through it.
“Just watch my hand. Do as I say. I’ll show you how lass.” He breathes. You nod your head. Your face is hot, in such a daze you barely even know what’s going on around you. “I’m so horny Johnny.. I can’t take it.” You cry. Tears filling your eyes. “Just watch darling..” he trails his hand across your bare stomach, he’d pulled your shirt up. Pushing down, until his huge hand glides over your mound. Stopping just right at the top. He circles over your clit with two of his fingers, feeling you jump against him. “It’s going to be really sensitive. Since you’ve never touched here before, alright?” You nod your head. You’re panting. “It’s your clit. You try.” He moved his hand lower, drawing circles around your opening as you start to rub your clit. You’re getting more comfortable, relaxing into him. “That’s it. Just keep doing that for me, yeah.” He breathes. He raises his hand to his mouth. Using his saliva to wet down his fingers enough. Circling his spit over your hole. He’s prepping you.
“Deep breath.” He mumbles. You nod your head.
He doesn’t have to stretch you too much. He pushes his finger in, feeling you tense up. “Oh god.” You pant. Wiggling your hips lower into him. You pause your movement, whining out. “Keep rubbing your clit baby. I didn’t say to stop.” He breathes. His voice is low and sexy. He’s turned on. A side of Johnny you hadn’t seen.
He pairs another finger up, pushing it back into you. You gasp, clutching his wrist with your free hand. “There you go darling.” Your breaths get a little more rigid. Nearly panting out as he fingers you. “Keep going darling. Gentle, not too fast now.” He guides you.
“I- oh god!” You cry. “There you go baby. That’s it… give it to me.” He whines, raising his hips into you. You can tell he wants relief of his own.
You grasp his hand, forcing him away. “Woah- hey. Everything okay?” He asks. You stand on one leg. Turning so that you could straddle his lap. Sitting down on him again. “F-fuck..” he grits his teeth. “What’re you doing?”
“I want to know what it’s like.” You look him in the eyes. “Y/N.” He warns. He knows what it is you want.
“Johnny.” You repeat his name back. “Your virginity is really important. I think you’re just really turned on. Not thinking straig-“ he clenches his eyes shut as you rut your hips into his. He swallows hard. “You can’t take it back. Once you do it with me, I’ll always be your first.” He breathes. “I think you should really think about it.” He swallows hard. “I think I’ve got my mind made up, MacTavish.” You sigh, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt. You lean into him, lips brushing over his. You kiss him, hard. He can feel your heart thumping in your chest.
Johnny is in shock. Because this isn’t just another hook up and you’re not just another girl.
You’re Y/N. The girl who is supposed to be so far out of his reach, out of his league even. You’re not someone Johnny ever expected to be sitting in his lap, wanting more than just a kiss even. Wanting to…
He has to draw himself out of his trance. You want your first to be him. And Johnny up until this point is recognized as a scumbag. Everyone knows it. He’s desperate for any kind of attention he’ll get. He knows that this is how people feel about him. Maybe they don’t know him, don’t know that he wants to be loved. He wants it all, using any way he can to get it, even if it does make him look like an asshole.
Not anymore. Johnny wants your attention. Yours and yours only, he knows it.
“Okay.. look at me.” He pushes back. “If you want me to do this, we’re gonna do it right.” You nod your head. “We’ll go slow. I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to know that this is how you should be treated. Always. Okay?” You nod your head.
He unbuckles his belt, pushing his jeans down his thighs just enough. You swallow hard at the size of him, not sure what you were expecting. “Are you sure?” You nod your head. Looking at him. You prop yourself up and he helps you. Spitting in his hand and gliding it up his cock. If he had lube he’d use it. Knowing how bad this is about to hurt you. Once he’s got himself lined up with your entrance, you’re eager. Pushing yourself down onto him. He tries to force you to be gentle. You’re in a hurry. Desperate to have him inside of you.
Once you get to that point, where you start to stretch, you slow. Biting your lip. He can tell it’s starting to hurt.
“It’s okay- it’s alright lass. Deep breath for me.” Soaps face crunches up in pleasure, trying his best to conceal it because he doesn’t want to enjoy this when you’re not.
“Oh fuck…” he pants. His voice is so unsteady you can’t help but smile. “Are you okay Johnny?”
“Y-yeah. You just feel so fucking good.” He smiles, eyes closing. “Just a little more, you’re doing so good for me.” He pants. You hiss, and he hesitates. Drawing his hips back into the chair and raising you up slightly. He gathers more arousal at the tip of his cock. Spearing you further onto him. It’s easier to slide like this.
“I’m going to push all of the way alright? Deep breath.” He lowers you completely, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He takes in a sharp breath, standing up with you. It’s not the best place for it, but not the worst. He lays you right on the ground. It’s clean, you’d just cleaned it the night before.
The feeling of all of his body weight on you is intimidating. Something you’ve never felt before. He takes one deep thrust and you’re gasping out, a cry leaving your lips as he penetrates to the deepest parts of you. Just like that, it’s over.
You have your eyes screwed shut and he gives you a couple minutes to adjust before he starts fucking you. He’s slow, trying to ease the pain.
And it works. Your eyes soften as they slowly open, lips going from locked shut to parted. Your hands had a tight hold on his shirt and they’re staring to relax. You were dead quiet, but as he moves you start to pant.
You’re starting to like it.
Soap sighs, thank god.
He keeps a steady pace until he knows you can take more and then he’s rocking his hips into you deeper. “Oh god Johnny.” You mewl, opening your legs wider for him. Giving him complete access to you. His eyes widen.
Johnny has been with his fair share of women, each different from the last. You’re by far the most gentle, skin soft against his. Your clutches are even soft when you run your hands through his mow hawk and grip it. Your body is like a clouded temple and the fact that he’s been allowed inside is something Johnny is going to cherish, he’s never letting this go. He’s made up his mind.
He starts driving himself into you at a brutal pace. You’re trying your best to stay quiet but it’s hard. “Ah, Johnny. S’a lot.” You breathe. “Deep breathes, I said I’d make your legs shake and I intend on it darling.” He chuckles. You can’t help but blush.
He expected it to be easier, but you’re taking a lot. “Johnny I- I’m gonna cum!” You whine. Your legs start to shiver just slightly and he smiles. “Go on doll, show me how good I make you feel. Cum for me.” You screw your eyes shut, focusing on the knot building and how his cock stimulates the perfect place to make it unwind. He’s getting overwhelmed. This is the first time you’ll ever cum. Not just that. The first time you’ll ever cum, and it’s around his cock. Not from your fingers, or even his. Not a pillow you’re desperately rutting into. Around Johnny’s dick.
He lowers his hand, pressing his fingertips into your clit and your mouth parts in shock, how good he feels is unmatched. A cry barely leaves your lips and he covers your mouth with his hand. Fucking you into your high. When you hit it, your legs shake.
Just like in the videos.
You’re on the verge of crying when Johnny hits his high. He’s panting and whining and it’s almost pathetic as he reaches it. He doesn’t think to pull out.
———
“Y/N. He’s just using you. He wants to fuck you and then dump you. That’s who he is. He’s a loser.” Layla rolls her eyes.
Her words cut through you like a knife. “I.. why are you saying that?”
“Because it’s what guys like him do Y/N. He doesn’t want anything serious. He’d have a girlfriend if that were the case. I bet his body count would cripple you because he’s just a gross loser. He wants sex and no offense, but you’re naive and he knows if he shows up and shows out you’ll be dumb enough to give it to him. No offense.” She waves her hand. “I’m not trying to be a bitch but it’s true. I’m not saying to listen to me, I’m just warning you before you catch feelings and get your heart broken. You heard how he used to talk about you.”
You nod your head. “Thank you.” You mumble, turning away from her. The tears are hot as they spill over your eyelids the moment she can’t see your face anymore. You hurry away.
She was going to go find Johnny.
“I know you’re trying to get your claws into Y/N, but you need to stay away from her.”
She catches Johnny off guard, he’d just gotten off of watch with you. “What are you talking about?” He hurries to cover up the love bites he's got on his neck from you.
“I’m talking about how you’ve been spending so much time with her. I know you. You’re nothing but a loser looking for someone who will put out for you. That’s not her. So leave her alone.” He shakes his head. “You’ve got it wrong.”
“Do I? Because everyone here has heard the way you talk about her and other women.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t have anything to prove to you okay? I’m friends with Y/N and I care a lot about her whether you believe it or not." He's getting angry. "Whatever. I guess since she's so stupid and naïve we'll find out when you get her to fuck you." The words are laced with venom.
His face goes stone cold and he pauses, standing straight up and taking a step toward her. He's sharp with her.
"She's not stupid. Say whatever you want about me. Call me a loser, fine. But if you say that to me again we will have a much bigger problem on our hands." He's stern and his voice is quiet. "She's smart and she's had it rough. She's learning everything day by day. Naïve yes. Stupid? Absolutely not. Now back off." He growls. She is a little intimidated but she plays it off with a huff and leaves. His reaction to her calling you stupid had taken her completely off guard.
Maybe he really did have feelings for you.
———
"You know, one way to really find out if he likes her is to hit on him and see if he takes the bait." She shrugs. "Yeah, but I don't want to hurt Y/N by doing that." She sighs. "Layla, she'll get hurt even worse if she gives her V card up to that loser and he treats her like shit after." Her eyes are wide as she looks at her.
"I know Sarah. I guess you're right. Let's give it a go. But I already pissed him off so it's got to be you." She looks up from her tray of food. "Gross. Whatever." She scoffs.
The two wait until that night. Soap gets to the watch tower first and she takes the opportunity, heading up the stairs. Layla stays at the bottom of the stairs just in case.
She wants to stop you at the bottom and give Sarah enough time to do what she needs to do.
"Uh.. something wrong?" You ask. You startle her, she hadn't been paying attention. "Shit! You scared me. No- no nothing is wrong. I just really needed to ask you a question and it couldn't wait." Her response is fast and it has you narrowing your eyes. "What is it?"
"It's... uhh." She pauses, trying to come up with something on the fly. "Look.. about you and Soap..."
"Jesus Layla, I've already starting retracting from him, I really just want this all behind us." You groan, pushing passed her. "Wait!" She grasps your hand. "What is going on? Why are you stalling to keep me down here?" You tear your arm out of her grasp and move further up the stairs but she's hot on your tail. "She's testing him!"
You pause right outside the door. "What?"
"She's going to hit on him to see if he'd cave. Y/N we don't want you to get hurt by him.” She says. "Jesus Christ." You reach for the handle but pause when you hear Soap.
"Sarah, I'm not interested okay? I've told you like 3 times now. I... I like Y/N. And I'm sure she wouldn't like knowing that you're doing this. Because I respect her enough, the moment she comes through those doors I'll tell her." He takes a step back.
You and Layla can hear it on the other side of the door but she tries to stop you as you reach for the door again.
"Oh come on John. You'd be stupid to pass this up." Her voice is low and she's trying to sound sexy. They hear shuffling inside. "You need to leave me alone. I... I love Y/N. You and Layla can believe it or not but I do and I'm done with whatever this is. Back off before I make you."
You shove the door open. "That's enough!" You yell.
Soap and Sarah jump. "What the fuck is the deal?"
"Did you put them up to this?" He asks. "Of course I didn't put them up to this, I'm not fucking crazy." The swears leaving your lips have everyone in the room startled. "I don't know what the obsession is with you two trying to protect me from Soap when it's none of your business!"
"We just don't want you to give your V card to him because he's a fucking loser Y/N!" Layla calls back.
"I already had sex with him!"
The rooms falls quiet.
Their eyes are wide and even Soap is completely baffled. "I already gave him my virginity. I already slept with him, we've had sex multiple times." You have your arms crossed. Scolding them like a mother scolds her kids. "Seriously? Why didn't you lead with that?" Sarah hisses. "Because you both have been acting crazy."
"You.. you love her? You had sex with her and you still like her..?" Layla and Sarah turn to Soap. He looks away. "Yeah. I do. Maybe if you both had given it a chance you would've seen it." He sighs. "I just threw myself at him and he didn't take the bait. I think that's enough for me." Sarah shrugs her shoulders.
"Give us some space please." You sigh.
"Okay.. We owe you a huge apology Y/N. We had no idea." Layla mumbles. "It's fine, we'll talk later." You sigh. They both leave, the moment the door is closed you're locking it behind them. "Those two, my god." You laugh. He starts laughing too. "Yeah, a bit protective." He chuckles. "I'm sorry about that." You roll your eyes.
"It's alright. They're just looking out for you. Hitting on me though, that's a bit crazy."
"Very crazy."
The both of you start laughing, unable to contain it.
"Cat's out of the bag now I guess."
"Yeah, yeah I guess it is." You look up at him. He's beginning to close the distance between the both of you. "You ready to make this official yet or what?" He smirks. "I don't think that that's the way to properly ask a girl out MacTavish."
"I also don't think it was very respectable of you to let me hit it before at least becoming my girlfriend either, Y/L/N." He raises a brow. "Fuck you." You roll your eyes. Playful smile on your lips. "I'll never get used to you cursing like that. It's kind of sexy actually." He leans in, lips right by yours. "Shut up and ask the question Johnny."
"Fine." He laughs.
"Y/N. Will you be my girlfriend? Officially."
"Yes." You laugh. "Thank god." He mumbles, wrapping his arms under your thighs and lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist. He pushes you into the wall behind you, you can feel that he's already hard as he presses into you.
"Been waiting weeks to finally hear that lass."
159 notes
·
View notes
Text
Best Mentor Ever
Summary: Reader is new at the BUA. Spencer is the unit chief and she looks at him as her mentor. Spencer can’t focus around you.
Pairing: Softdom!Unitchief!Spencer x Innocent!Reader
TW! MDNI! Smut, inexpierenced reader, dom spencer, praise?, Spencer teasing reader, fingering(f!rec), p in v unprotected sex, creamp!e, anything else I missed. Use of y/n.
WC: 1,350ish
A/N: HIII this was requested from an anon, so anon I loveee you. So creative.
Y/N is new to the BAU, today is her third day on the job. Spencer has taken her under his wing in sorts and has helped guide and mentor her in ways. They’ve just gotten back from a week long case, they all file into work to finish up some paperwork about the case.
Spencer gently stares at y/n as she takes a seat at her desk, quickly getting comfortable and pulling out the case file. He pulls his eyes away and heads up the stairs and into his office where he takes a seat and lets out a sigh.
He finds himself unable to focus on the task at hand as y/n keeps popping into his brain. Visions of her flooding and overflowing in his mind. He stares down at the desk trying to ground himself, his mind is failing him.
Suddenly he is jerked from his thoughts when he hears a knock at his office door and it opens. Y/n walks in and offers Spencer a small smile. “Hey Reid, I have a question about something.” she says with the file in her hand. “Uh, yeah, sure.” he says clearing his throat.
She walks to the other side of his desk and puts the file down, she slightly bends down a bit to be at level with him. His eyes once again begin to wonder over her legs. “So about this, remind me what I do again.” she asks with a low giggle. “I’m sorry I will get the hang of this eventually.” she finishes.
Spencer looks up at her, “Don’t apologize I don’t mind helping teach you these types of things.” and he explains to her what she has to do. She looks at Spencer, smiling, “Thank you” she says smiling. He turns his head to look at her, he smiles as he takes in all of her features. “You’re welcome.” he whispers, his eyes going from her lips to her eyes.
He gently leans forward and presses a small kiss on her lips. She pulls back as she smiles, eyes hooked on him. He apologizes, “I’m sorry that was inappropriate.” he brings his head to rest in his hand as he internally kicks himself.
“It’s okay” y/n says smiling at him. He looks back up and locks eyes with her. He felt like he could explode at that moment. Spencer stands up and walks to his office door, locking it. He walks back over to her, “I’m going to be honest, I was supposed to be finishing paperwork but I was so distracted by you” he admits, swallowing hard.
“I-I don’t even know what to say to that” she says looking at him, smiling, and her cheeks are red. She leans in and presses a kiss to his lips, her hands wrapping around his neck as she leans into the kiss. He kisses back, his tongue gently exploring her mouth. She pulls back, “Do you want to mentor me in something else?” she asks, smiling down at him. He looks deeply into your eyes, “Is that what you want?” he asks in a whisper as he stares into her eyes..
She nods, staring back into his eyes. He stands up and wraps his arms around her waist pulling her closer. “So you want me to mentor you, hmm?” he hums out. “Please” she hums out smiling at him.
“That can be arranged,” he whispers. She looks into his eyes and leans closer putting her lips on his. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt and pulls it down. He brings his hands to the front of her blouse and begins to unbutton it.
Once he’s done with the last button he pulls her arms out of the blouse. He looks up and down her body, “God look at you” he growls, his hands raking over your body. He brings his hands to hook in the waistband of her panties, he looks up at her for permission, she nods.
Once her panties are on the floor, he leans back to pat his lap, “Sit down” he says. She climbs on wrapping her legs around his waist. His hands wrap around her waist as he gently grabs her hips. “So good for me,” he says, kissing her neck. “My good little girl.” he growls, sucking a mark on her neck.
He brings his hand between their bodies and snakes a finger down between her folds, “Mmmm, Spencer.” She moans out, gently rocking her hips. His finger slides past her entrance as she lets out another moan. “My good girl” he whispers. “Spencer, add another finger,” she whimpers. “Ask me nicely” he growls.
“Please another finger Spence. Please.” she whines out. “Mm, that’s better” he whispers as he adds another finger. He thrusts them in and out of her with a “come here” motion. “Oh god Spencer it’s so good.” she moans out as she feels herself teetering on the edge. “Cum for me baby” he whispers, his fingers still continuing.
She moans out as her legs begin to shake, “Oh Spencer” she says as she feels her head start to spin, “I’m cumming” she screams as she holds her mouth open, little whimpers spilling out. “That’s my girl” he whispers, helping her ride out her orgasm.
She lays her head on his shoulder while she catches her breath. “That was amazing,” she whispers. “Oh, I’m just getting started with you.” he says laughing.
A few minutes later she stands up, he stares into her eyes as he brings his hand to begin unbuckling his belt. He unbuttons his slacks and stands up letting them pool around his ankles. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and slides them down his legs. “Bend over for me” he growls out as he takes his cock in his hand and gently fists himself.
She bends over his desk with her ass stuck up. He comes behind her and places a hand on her hip, “I’m going to go slow at first” he whispers into your ear as he bends down. She nods her head. He swipes his cock between her folds and gently presses into her entrance. “Oh my god Spencer yes” she moans. He slides in until he’s fully hilted inside of her. “Oh you’re so big. I’m so full” she whimpers out. “Yeah, you like that?” He asks. She nods, “You can move now” she whispers. He starts thrusting inside of her faster, “Spencer yes,” she moans. Her words repeating over and over again “Yes, yes, yes,” with every thrust of his hips.
“Y/n you’re so tight, I’m not going to last much longer” he grunts out his forehead pressing to the back of your head. “I’m right there” she says. He brings his hand around her body and between her legs as he runs his fingers over her clit, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock” he spits out.
“Spencer, oh I’m cumming” she whimpers out, her back arching up. She clenches around his cock and he thrusts in a few more times before he stills himself, he too, reaching his release. She feels his warm cum spewing deep inside of her. “Oh so warm” she mumbles out.
He pulls out and turns her around, kissing her lips. He backs away gently, “Well that was fun” she says giggling. “You’re a really good mentor” she finishes smiling as she picks her clothes off of the floor and starts putting them on. He gets dressed as well. “We’ll have to do that again” he says smiling. “I agree,” she says. Once they’re both dressed Spencer places his hand on the small of her back and pulls her into a kiss. “Let’s go” he says, holding her hand. She holds onto his hand as they walk out of his office together.
#spencer reid#spencer reid masterlist#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#spencer reid headcanon#spencerreidblurbs#criminal minds masterlist#spencerreidsfw#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid series#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you
119 notes
·
View notes
Text
did you guys know my favorite coping mechanism is putting my little guy in Situations
my favorite prick <3 sorry if you can tell that i used to be a yansim fan WAY back in the day, i had to pay a brief homage to one of my favorite clubs
An easygoing guy with a hidden flair for the dramatic… if him belonging to the club full of theatrics is anything to go off of.
now, as for in-game things!
❥ More of an NPC. Not a rival.
❥ Always tries to be on friendly terms with everyone. Doesn’t seek people out, but greets them with a smile if they look for him.
(But, like his usual TWST counterpart, his personal morality… could use some work.)
❥ If he catches Quartz doing something suspicious or criminal, he’ll take bribes for his “silence.”
“I’m an ‘upstanding citizen.’ And it’s easy enough to say you’re one, too. There’s no need for bad blood between us.”
(read: Keep me alive, pay me in something I like, and I’ll cover for you.)
❥ If this were the actual game, doing him a favor/task gives Quartz more study points for classes, passed off as study tips in-universe (bc he doesnt want to owe her anything LMAOOO)
❥ One of his BIGGEST pet peeves is people touching stuff they shouldn’t, so he basically makes it impossible for Quartz (or anyone in general tbh) to use any drama/film research club props (i.e. gloves, masks, etc) if she doesn’t join the club. Even if she’s done him a favor.
❥ I refuse to explain his crush on Floyd. /lh
❥ He lives with his family in this AU, so… 🙂 If you know you know. He might be more of an emotionally unstable asshole. Who knows! Maybe that’s why he doesn’t care what Quartz does— it’s almost cathartic to know “bad” things are happening.
❥ Explanation of his personal items:
Phone: He lowkey has the Phone Addict or whatever it was called personality. Also my current phone charm is about to break and I need to imagine happiness somehow
Earbuds: This overstimulated introvert needs his music sometimes 💔
Mechanical pencil: Convenience. Also, it can be used to lightly stab people in a pinch… I mean what?
~
taglist (ask to be added or removed): @thehollowwriter@theleechyskrunkly@elenauaurs@casp1an-sea@nahelenia
@skriblee-ksk@boopshoops@scint1llat3@nyx-of-night@nemisisnemi
@sillyslipperybananapeel@beneathsakurashade@kathxrat-01@lumdays@twistedwonderlandshenanigans
@taruruchi@oya-oya-okay
No Yandere Simulator ? (TWST AU)
AU Information:
This AU takes place similar to Yandere Sim but with Twisted Wonderland but Taro is Azul and Ayano is Quartz. Her goal is to eliminate… AZUL ASHENGROTTO. Yeah, her goal is actually to kill Azul and NOT the rivals. The rivals being your OCs/sonass and they have to protect Azul from Quartz and her dumb elimination plans.
More info on Quartz + Tweels info
This is an AU just for fun!! lol I just had a silly idea. Here’s a template if you wanna make your own oc into the AU (rival or not)
ALSO THEY DONT KNOW IT'S QUARTZ bc she's just a nobody girl
Bro you can tell I was hella lazy with Azul idk he’s too much
Rival List:
Romeo by @skrimpyskimpy
Shuu by @oya-oya-okay
Chiyo by @inotonline
NPC/Non-Rival List:
Elfie by @quartzelfgf
Higashikuramori Shin by @liyuviq
Jade Leech
Floyd Leech
Rizy by @rizdoodls
Yuuki by @theolivetree123
Joseph by @readsrandomstuff67
Yuubeni by @bunniehunn
Yuya by @cheerleaderman
Shuu and Silly by @sillybillymillyrilly
Superstar!! By @imafrealinrainbow478484
Viz (Vizzie) by @twistedwonderlandshenanigans
(Let me know if I made a mistake lol)
#my art#twst oc#yuusona#wei yuhua#headcanons#au#route where you can get yuhuas support by matchmaking him w/ floyd /JJJ
412 notes
·
View notes
Text
✶ blabbermouth — sam winchester
cw : gn!reader, talkative!reader, hurt/comfort, insecurity, unedited, 845 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .
prompt : under a street lamp + “i’m right here, you know. i’m right here.”
sam pulls you to stand up with both hands. you’re not really sure why, and don’t notice that he’s pulled you under the orange light of a street lamp. he’d found you sitting on the curb in the dark, in the chilly almost-autumn air. and you haven’t gone far from the motel, but he’d still been worried when he got to the room and you weren’t there. he gets paranoid sometimes; he had burst out the front door. he nearly ran down the street until he saw your silhouette hunched over in a patch of darkness.
at first, he sat with you, but he hates not being able to see your face very well, so he gently pulls you up and into the light. it casts your face in warmth, and you look a little teary. he expected it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t send a pang through his chest. so before asking what’s wrong, he pulls you into a soft hug. you melt into him, but your shoulders retain some of their tension.
he parts, though his hands linger for a moment. “what is it?” he asks quietly. the bare skin of your arms are a bit cold to the touch. “you cold?”
you shake your head, “the wind is nice,” is all you can manage, followed but a stretch of quiet. a car rolls past, no music or voices floating out of the cracked window. there’s just the sound of tires on the road as your eyes leave him to follow its movement until you can’t crane your neck any further. then you’re forced to look back at him, knowing you haven’t answered his first question.
“sam… do i talk too much?” you ask, voice quiet for once and undeniably insecure. you hate the way it sounds, but you can’t bear to take up much space right now.
“mm?” he almost calls you babe, but catches himself at the last moment, “what are you talking about? of course you don’t. you don’t talk too much at all.”
you’re not convinced, unfortunately. he knows so by the way you don’t meet his eyes. “i just feel like… i feel like people get annoyed. and– dammit,” you curse under your breath, probably the only one bothered by your apparent inability to keep your mouth shut. you have this silly urge to come across as composed, maybe even a little mysterious for a bit of intrigue. but it never works, and you’re just always talking. even now, you can’t stop yourself from telling sam exactly what you’re feeling. “and– and sometimes it makes me worried that people won’t want to be around me because of it. i mean, no one likes a blabbermouth. even now i can’t seem to shut up.” your voice grows frustrated, almost aggressive at yourself. you wish you could keep it down, but you can’t even manage that.
“hey,” he quickly interrupts before you can say anything else self-deprecating, “don’t say that,” he says firmly, tilting his head to try and get you to look at him. “you’re not a blabbermouth, alright? and there’s nothing wrong with talking a lot. no one wants you to shut up, so don’t say that.”
“dean does,” you mutter bitterly. his hand twitches, as if trying to seek out yours to hold it tight. he frowns, so you explain, “dean gets annoyed. i know that he thinks i talk too much sometimes.”
“it doesn’t matter what dean thinks,” sam insists, “he’s an ass, you know that. doesn’t mean he wants you to stop talking.” he doesn’t even like saying the words ‘shut up’ in reference to you.
you frown back at him. “it matters to me,” you stress, “and what about bobby? and–”
he cuts you off with another gentle, imploring, “hey. i’m right here, you know. i’m right here.” that finally gets you to look him in the eye. you’re looking at him like you’re not sure what he means, but that you’re hoping for something. so he keeps going. “doesn’t it matter what i think about it?” he asks at a murmur, “i like how much you talk. i like– i like to listen to you. i don’t want you to stop. you could never annoy me and you could never do anything to make me not want to be around you.”
you eyes widen at his words. why does he have to say it like that? like he loves you, maybe. not just like he thinks you’re a great friend, and he wants to comfort and reassure you because of that. you struggle to respond.
he notices and his hand drifts up towards your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheekbone. “okay?” he murmurs.
to that, you can nod, the movement a bit halting and your eyes still teary. it means a lot to hear those words, but it means everything to hear them from him. “okay,” you whisper back.
“good.” he pulls you back into his arms, and presses a gentle, but firm kiss to the side of your head.
#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester hurt/comfort#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester x gn!reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester#sam winchester fanfiction#supernatural fluff#sam winchester headcanon#sam winchester fic#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester oneshot#spn fanfiction#supernatural oneshot#sam winchester imagine#supernatural sam winchester#spn sam winchester#supernatural#supernatural requests#sam winchester supernatural#supernatural x reader#spn fanfic#supernatural hurt/comfort#supernatural suggestive
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
Change of Heart - 3 | Bucky
Character: Bucky x Female! Reader
Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.
Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:
“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”
Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”
True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?
And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , -
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
"Where is she?" he asked.
"Australia, sir."
Bucky froze in place when he heard that. Australia? It was so unlike you. In all the time you spent together, you always talked about visiting Europe. That was your dream—to save enough money to open a café there, buy a boat, and travel around the continent.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. It didn’t matter now. At least he finally knew where you were.
"Prepare the jet," he commanded.
After his security team gave him the location, Bucky immediately called his pilot to prepare the plane. Within minutes, he was on his private jet, accompanied by his assistant, who sat nervously across from him.
The assistant hesitated before asking, “Sir, when do you want to reschedule the meeting?”
Bucky didn’t look up from his phone. “If I’m not in the company, there’s a vice president. Let him attend the meeting instead. The company pays him a high salary for a reason. If he makes the wrong agreement at the meeting, I’ll fire him.”
The assistant swallowed hard, his hands fidgeting with the pen in his lap. “Y-Yes, sir.”
Bucky leaned back in his seat, resting his head against the cushion as silence settled between them. The hum of the jet’s engines filled the cabin. His gaze drifted to the window, the clouds blurring past.
The matter of this marriage was far more complicated than any company matter.
He broke the silence. “Do you ever have marriage trouble?”
The assistant’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected question. “Uh… yes, sir.”
Bucky turned his head slightly toward him. “Have you ever argued to the point where your wife left the house?”
The assistant hesitated, his hands stilling. “That’s… no, sir. We argue sometimes, but not to that extent.”
Bucky exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I see.”
His situation wasn’t like those couples who separated after endless fights. This marriage was different—it was based on a contract. There was no need for messy legal proceedings or divorce lawyers. No drawn-out drama. It was supposed to be simple, painless.
But it wasn’t.
He rested his elbow on the armrest, his fingers pressing against his temple as memories of his parents’ divorce flashed through his mind. He’d witnessed it all—the yelling, the accusations, the blame. He could still remember the cold, suffocating atmosphere in the negotiation room as both sides tore each other apart. And they’d forced him, a child, to sit there and watch.
They called it love once, but what he saw was anything but. His parents acted like children while he was expected to be the adult.
Marriage was supposed to be a union between two mature individuals who respected its meaning. His parents may have loved each other once, but they destroyed that love with betrayal and adultery.
It was full of lies and deception. For young Bucky, hearing the arguments was painful. Even now, he still feels a lingering resentment toward his parents.
Bucky shook his head, clearing the bitter thoughts. He’d never wanted a traditional marriage because of them. When his grandfather, Paul, had told him he needed to marry to inherit the company, Bucky had been clueless about what to do.
That’s when he remembered a friend mentioning a matchmaking agency. “It’s expensive, but it’s worth it,” his friend had said.
And it was expensive—but it was worth it. With you, he’d fulfilled his grandfather’s condition and taken over the company. You were his perfect partner.
At least, that’s what he thought.
He rubbed his chin as he rewound every moment he’d spent with you, searching for something he might have missed. He couldn’t think of a single instance where he had disrespected you. Both of you respected each other’s personal space and schedules. He knew you had a close relationship with Grace, your best friend.
Friends.
Friends?
His brows furrowed. Now that he thought about it, Grace was the only friend of yours he really knew. While you had met most of his circle, he knew almost nothing about yours.
Bucky leaned forward, clasping his hands together tightly. After giving it more thought, he realized the imbalance in your marriage. He was the dominant one, the one whose needs and routines shaped the relationship.
And he had barely noticed.
His jaw tightened, the weight of his ignorance sinking in. For the first time, he wondered if that was why you left.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
After a long flight, Bucky’s plane finally touched down at the destination. He had managed to close his eyes during the journey, but rest was impossible—his thoughts were consumed by you. Memories, questions, and unspoken words replayed endlessly in his mind.
As he stepped off the plane, the crisp air hit his face, bringing a brief sense of clarity. The head of his security team approached him immediately.
"Sir, we’ve found her location," the man reported.
"Where is she?" Bucky asked, his voice sharp with urgency.
The security detail led Bucky toward the docks, their hurried footsteps crunching against the gravel. His heart was pounding, each step feeling heavier as the weight of anticipation bore down on him. He scanned the area, his sharp eyes searching frantically for any sign of you.
And then, he saw you.
There you were, standing near the edge of the dock, the soft breeze tugging at your hair as you stared out at the endless horizon. The setting sun cast a golden glow around you, making you look almost ethereal, like a mirage he’d conjured in his desperation.
His breath hitched. Relief washed over him first, flooding his chest so quickly that it nearly brought him to his knees. After days of relentless searching, and agonizing over where you could be, there you were—within reach.
But then came the ache. A sharp, searing pain in his chest that he hadn’t expected. Seeing you standing so calmly as if the world hadn’t turned upside down for him, struck a chord deep within. You looked so at peace, so distant, and he couldn’t understand it.
His legs moved before his mind could catch up. He closed the distance between you in long, determined strides, his emotions spiraling into a chaotic storm. Relief, anger, confusion, longing—it all melded together as his voice broke through the silence.
He called your name, loud and raw, the sound carrying across the water.
You turned, startled, your wide eyes locking with his. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. He saw the flicker of surprise on your face, the way your lips parted slightly as if you were about to say something. But what shook him most was what he didn’t see.
There was no regret in your eyes.
Bucky’s chest tightened, his fists clenching instinctively at his sides. How could you look at him like that—so calm, so unaffected—when he’d been unraveling without you? He reached you in a few quick strides, his hand shooting out to grab yours before you could move another step.
Bucky’s heart pounded as he called out your name, his voice cutting through the sound of the waves. You turned, visibly startled but composed, no trace of regret on your face.
He didn’t stop running until he reached you, grabbing your hand before you could step onto the yacht. "Why did you leave?" he demanded, his tone raw with frustration. "Didn’t I say we’d talk this through?"
You look at him, your eyes steady but filled with quiet resolve. “I don’t want to continue the marriage contract."
“I know.” He fell silent, his gaze locking onto yours. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”
"No," you replied, shaking your head with a soft smile. "Didn’t you get the letter I left for you?"
Bucky frowned, the words unsettling him. The letter? What could it possibly say that justified this?
"It’s not you," you said, your tone steady. "It’s me."
"Lies," he shot back, his voice clipped with disbelief.
"It’s not," you insisted firmly.
"Explain it to me like I’m five years old," he demanded, his frustration and confusion bubbling to the surface.
You sighed, gathering your thoughts. "In the contract, we promised no lies, no deception. We even agreed that if one of us developed feelings, the marriage would end before things got messy."
Your gaze softened as you added, "Bucky, I love you."
The confession hit him like a tidal wave, leaving him stunned and speechless. He had braced himself for accusations, for anger, but not this.
You took advantage of his silence, gently pulling your hand free from his grasp. You turned to the captain of the yacht and gave a subtle nod, signaling him to start the engine.
As the boat began to drift away from the dock, Bucky’s senses returned. "Where are you going?" he called out, his voice tinged with desperation.
"Anywhere," you replied, your words floating back to him.
Standing at the edge of the dock, he could only watch as the boat carried you farther away.
From your place on the yacht, you glanced back at him. “What a fool,” you murmured, shaking your head. “I told everyone not to let you find me.”
The captain, standing at the helm, turned to you and asked, “How far do you want to go?”
"Keep sailing until I say stop," you said, your tone resolute.
"Alright," the captain replied, steering the yacht into the open sea.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
The yacht moved steadily through the endless expanse of blue, its wake cutting a gentle path through the water. You stood at the edge of the deck, the wind brushing against your face, carrying with it the salty tang of the sea. The horizon stretched infinitely, meeting the sky in a blur of hazy gold and blue. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the breeze tangle your hair and the sun warm your skin.
“It’s beautiful,” you thought. The kind of beauty that felt untouched, unclaimed—exactly what you were searching for.
“This is it,” you murmured, barely audible to yourself.
With steady steps, you approached the captain’s cabin. He glanced at you briefly, his expression questioning.
“Stop here,” you said.
“Are you sure?” His voice carried the weight of uncertainty.
“Yes.” Your answer was firm, final.
He nodded and went to work, releasing the anchor with a heavy clunk as it descended into the ocean’s depths. The yacht slowed to a gentle halt, rocking slightly with the rhythm of the waves.
Without hesitation, you peeled off your clothes, revealing the simple swimsuit underneath. The air felt cool against your skin, but it didn’t matter. You stepped to the edge of the deck, your toes curling over the rim. For a brief second, you inhaled deeply, and then you leaped.
The water embraced you like an old friend. It was cold but refreshing, its weight washing over you, pulling you into its quiet, endless depths. You swam, letting your body move freely, unbound by the constraints of gravity or obligation.
You dove deeper, the light above you diffusing into shimmering rays that danced like silver ribbons. Down here, there were no walls to confine you, no contracts to dictate your actions. It was just you and the ocean—an infinite space where you could finally breathe.
For the first time in years, you felt free.
You floated on your back, staring up at the vast sky. The sun cast a golden glow across the water’s surface, making it sparkle like liquid diamonds. You let out a long breath, your body rising and falling with the gentle waves. This was what you had been looking for—a release from the weight of expectations and the burden of feeling tethered to things you didn’t truly want.
You didn’t understand why, but in this moment of letting go—of money, of love, of the life you’d meticulously built—you felt alive.
All your life, it had been about money. Growing up with a father whose high income only highlighted what was still lacking, you learned early that nothing was ever enough. There was always another competition to win, another prize to chase. Independence wasn’t just encouraged; it was demanded.
Money became your anchor, the thing that kept you afloat. You thrived on it, obsessed over it. You checked your bank accounts daily, reveling in the sight of green numbers climbing higher and higher. It was intoxicating, the sense of control and success that came with it.
Each time you earned more money, it was a step closer to impressing your parents. Impressing them became a lifelong goal—one that would finally make them say, “We’re proud of you.” But no matter how much you earned, it was never enough.
And then there was love—a concept you understood in theory but never cared to possess. Money filled the void better than any romantic notion ever could. Love was messy, complicated, and it demanded sacrifices you weren’t willing to make. Money didn’t ask for your vulnerability; it only required your focus, your ambition, your endless thirst for more.
The two were the same, you realized. Money and love—they both left you parched, chasing something that always seemed just out of reach.
Then what were the other things that made you confront money and love at the same time?
When you joined the matchmaking agency to find a wealthy partner, you hadn’t really thought it through. There wasn’t a grand plan, just the vague hope of finding someone who could meet your terms. Honestly, you expected the candidates to be older men—someone seeking a companion to attend events with, nothing more. You had even specified one unique condition in your profile: no intimacy.
So, it came as a shock when the person who agreed to your circumstances turned out to be Bucky Barnes—a man only two years older than you. Not only that, but he was willing to pay an impressive amount to seal the deal.
When it was Bucky’s turn to lay out his requirements, everything seemed to align perfectly. He needed a partner who could convincingly play the role of a devoted spouse, just long enough for him to inherit his family’s company. You knew you could handle that. Pretending to be his loving wife? It felt like an easy role to play.
His parents were simple to fool, far less intimidating than your own strict, demanding family. The real challenge, however, was his grandfather, Paul. With his sharp eyes and no-nonsense demeanor, Paul had a knack for spotting liars. Yet, even he couldn’t see through you. You gave him exactly what he longed for—a granddaughter-in-law who treated him with genuine care. That part was easy because you understood what it felt like to crave love and approval.
The first year flew by without a hitch. You and Bucky played your roles to perfection. The arrangement opened doors for both of you—financially and socially. When the time came to discuss extending the contract for another year, you agreed without hesitation. The benefits far outweighed any drawbacks.
But then, somewhere in the second year, things began to shift. You started to feel something for Bucky—something dangerous. It wasn’t part of the deal, and you hated yourself for it. From the start, Bucky had been upfront about his feelings—or lack thereof. For him, love was a waste of time. He had no use for romance, and you had respected that. Until now.
You couldn’t stop it, though. No matter how hard you tried to suppress your emotions, they crept in, uninvited. It was written clearly in your agreement: no feelings, no complications. If either party broke that rule, the contract would be terminated immediately.
So, you buried your feelings as best you could. Love was messy, unpredictable, and it made you want things you couldn’t have. It filled your mind with fantasies, leaving you restless and craving more. And you despised it.
You just needed to hold on a little longer.
But then, everything changed.
Two days before the marriage contract was set to end, something happened—something you hadn’t anticipated.
And in that moment, you realized nothing would ever be the same again.
Join the taglist:
@thezombieprostitute
@bellamoret
@bucky-baby-barnes
@greatenthusiasttidalwave
@paryl
@pattiemac1
@kjah97
@danzer8705
@singsosworld
@mrsnikstan
@vicmc624
@cjand10
@wintercrows
@winchestert101
@rethasavedlives
@sjsmith56
@sarcasmoverlordxo
@buckybarnesfic
@angstangstbabeh
@everythingmybeloved
@tofuonfaiya
@longpondlibrary
@marvel-wifey-86
@jeremyrennermakesmesmile
@tasersloth
@diffidentphantom
@pklol
@ellosmile
@sebastians-love
@irishhappiness
@kmc1989
@440mxs-wife
@longpondlibrary
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#bucky x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky barnes au#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#buckybarnes#angst#romance#drama
82 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gap Filler (3)
Summary: Lack of communication leads to fallout.
Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, Walter being a douche, break-up, mentions of break-ups, amends, angry reader, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of calling someone daddy (nothing happens)
A/N: A short drabble to the miniseries.
Gap Filler (2)
“Baby? Y/N? Please open the door. The cactus is an aggressive beast. It tries to poke holes into my chest. The orchid, well, it won’t make it if it stays with me. You know I’m not good with soft things.”
Walter listens closely, hoping you’ll open the door and let him explain things to you.
“Go away,” you growl on the other side of the door. “I don’t want you anywhere near me!”
He sighs deeply. “Y/N, I know I fucked up big time, but please believe me, I love you. Rachel doesn’t mean anything to me. I lied to hurt you.” He sniffs. “I know it was stupid and selfish of me. It’s just… a woman left me for a job before.”
“Do not use your broken heart crap to excuse that you broke my heart!” You kick the door and curse his name. “Now get off my lawn.”
Walter chuckles. “Uh—your doormat is green, but I don’t think it counts as a lawn.” He comments as you throw insults at him. “Please open the door,” Walter whispers now. “Your neighbor is about to call the cops.”
“You’re a cop too,” you bite back. “Get your badge out and tell them to get fucked! "Annoying assholes!”
“Baby, open the door,” he murmurs your name, pleading with you to let him in. “Do not make me raise my voice.”
You snort. “As if you’d dare to raise your voice, Marshall. I’d love to see you try, fucker!”
“Stop swearing so much in front of our baby!” He tuts. “I can still kick the door open.”
“I don’t think so,” you snort. “It’s a reinforced door. Good luck breaking your back, old man!”
“Old man?” Walter hiccups. “Last time, you called me daddy because of the gray in my beard.”
“Marshall!” You rip the door open to size Walter up. “What are you talking about? That’s not true. I’d never call you that.” Wrinkling your nose, you huff. “That’s just ewww…”
He smirks as you realize your mistake. “Hah, it worked.” Before you can close the door, he stands in the door frame, keeping you from shutting the door again. “Y/N, please talk to me. I won’t go away, and it’s your fault if the poor plants die.”
You glance at the cactus pressed to his chest and the poor orchid he’s about to strangle. “Fine, give me the plants, but you can go home.”
Snatching the orchid out of his hands, you keep an eye on Walter.
“Baby, please let’s talk. I don’t want to go home knowing I lost you forever only because I was a fool,” he murmurs your pet name and gives you puppy dog eyes.
“No, this won’t work on me any longer. You hurt me to feel better.” You angrily wipe your eyes. “You told me you want to be with Rachel because you knew this is my worst fear coming true. How could I ever trust you again, or believe that you love me, Walter?
Walter drops his head and nods. “I used your fear against you. This is unforgivable.” He feels like the worst person ever as you look at him with teary eyes. “I let my hurt pride and feelings get the best out of me.”
“That’s no excuse for abandoning and hurting me. I admitted years ago that I’m scared of losing you to Rachel if she ever comes back. And you,” you growl at him, “used it against me.”
He nods slowly. “I knew the moment your luck was more important to me than mine that I was in love with you. When I got to know that they offered a better position to you, my worst fear came true. I couldn’t bear hearing you say that you will leave me.”
“Even if I’d have considered taking the position—” you sniffle. “Do you honestly believe I would have left you? I would have asked you to come with me, if possible. If not, I’d declined their offer.”
Walter stares at you, eyes filled with unshed tears. You have never seen him cry before. Not in all the years you know him.
“Fine, close the door and give me that cactus before you kill it for real…”
Tags in reblog.
#walter marshall#walter marshall x reader#walter marshall x you#walter marshall x y/n#x reader#Gap Filler (3)
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
the parent trap (remake) | CS 55
cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader
warn: 100% fiction & remake
next chap
PART 12 I LOVE YOU MOM
Y/N couldn't help but smile as she watched her son, Mattia, excitedly explain their latest project to the family.
“Oh! You look more and more like your mother every day, Mattia,” his grandfather, said warmly, his voice tinged with nostalgia.
Matheo grinned, clearly loving the compliment. “Thanks, Grandpa.”
Y/N, sitting at the other end of the table, raised her glass, asking Martin for a refill of wine. He glanced at the letter on the table—a peculiar one with an intricate drawing of what appeared to be a dog and a hastily scribbled "911" in bold letters.
Before anyone could notice his curiosity, there was a sudden commotion. Matheo, leaned so far forward in his chair that he tipped it over, landing flat on his back with a loud thud.
The room went silent in shock
“Mattia! Are you okay, baby?” Y/N was by his side in seconds, her face painted with concern.
Matheo scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off with an awkward smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. I just felt a little dizzy, that’s all. No big deal. Mom, can I go out for a while?”
Y/N frowned but didn’t push further. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, no,” Matheo replied quickly, his voice a little too high-pitched to be convincing. “I’ll just step out for a minute. I’ll be fine, promise!” He grabbed his coat and bolted for the door before anyone could ask another question.
As the door clicked shut, his grandfather narrowed his eyes. He muttered under his breath, “You’re not fooling me, young man.”
Matheo rushed through the bustling streets until he found a public phone booth. He slipped inside, closed the door, and fumbled with the phone, his heart racing. He quickly dialed the operator. “Um, could I make a collect call to Madrid, Spain?”
Meanwhile, in Madrid, Mattia paced the length of his room like a tiger in a cage, glancing anxiously at the phone. When it finally rang, he lunged for it so fast he almost tripped.
“Hello?” he answered breathlessly.
“Mattia, what’s going on?” Matheo’s voice came through, laced with worry.
“God, Matheo, I’m about to collapse,” Mattia blurted out.
“Okay, chill. Just explain.”
“Dad,” Mattia said dramatically, pausing for effect. “Dad is getting married.”
Matheo froze, his jaw dropping. “What?!”
“I’m serious! The suit and gown, the ceremony, everything. It’s happening in two weeks. If we don’t do something now, it’s game over. The only way to stop him is to reunite him with Mom.”
Matheo leaned his forehead against the glass of the phone booth, guilt bubbling up. He should’ve listened to Mattia earlier. “Alright. I’ll handle Mom. There’s event tonight, and I’ll drop the news on her tomorrow morning.”
“Please, Theo. This has to work. And hey... good luck.”
“Yeah, you too. I’ll call you later.” Matheo hung up, took a deep breath, and opened the door to leave, only to bump straight into someone waiting outside.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see—oh… oh…” he stammered, his heart sinking when he realized who it was.
His grandfather, stood there with his signature knowing smile. “Uh-huh… oh, oh.”
“This is not what it looks like,” Matheo blurted out, already feeling the walls closing in.
His grandfather just looped his arm through his as they began to walk down the park path. “Sweetheart, I may be old, but I notice ‘everything’. Now, spill it. What’s this all about?”
“It’s... it’s a long story,” he mumbled, desperately trying to come up with an excuse.
His grandfather patted his arm reassuringly. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got all the time in the world.”
Matheo sighed, realizing there was no escaping him. “Alright, but promise you won’t freak out.”
“No promises,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.
And with that, Matheo began unraveling the tangled web of plans, secrets, and schemes, knowing full well his grandfather was the last person he could ever truly fool.
*****
Matheo paced nervously, his shoe scuffing the floor as he debated his next move. From the other side of the door, he could hear his mother speaking in rapid French, her voice calm and composed despite the chaos in his chest. Biting his lip, he leaned against the door, just barely cracking it open to peek inside. His mother sat at her desk, phone pressed to her ear, her words flowing effortlessly like music he didn’t understand.
Behind him, his grandfather, gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have all day, gentleman,” he said, his tone both firm and loving.
Matheo glanced up at him, hesitant, but he smiled at him, his eyes full of encouragement. “You can do this,” he whispered.
Taking a deep breath, Matheo pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. His mother, Y/N, was just finishing her call, something about a new design that she had completed and a delicious carbonara pasta she’d been craving. She glanced up, surprised to see her son standing there, and quickly hung up.
“Mattia, my baby,” she said, setting the phone down.
But before Matheo could say anything, he froze, his courage faltering. Without a word, he dove under the covers beside his mom, pulling the cover over his head. Y/N blinked, her confusion quickly melting into amusement.
“Mattia?” Y/N called, moving to sit beside the bundle of blankets that was her son. “What are you doing there?”
From beneath the covers came a muffled response: “I have to go see Mattia!”
Y/N laughed softly, trying to open the cover. "So, where are you supposed to meet ‘Mattia’ ? Tell me, Mattia?"
“Mattia? Sweetheart?” Y/N called his son, she glancing back at her dad, who stood in the doorway with an amused but knowing look.
“In Madrid. With his father, Carlos Sainz,” Matheo mumbled, his voice trembling slightly.
At that, Y/N froze. Her face paled, and she shot a look at her Dad, who simply gave a small nod, urging her to listen. Slowly, Y/N pulled the covers back, revealing Matheo’s nervous face.
“You’re not Mattia, are you?” she asked softly, her voice wavering.
Matheo shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. “No,” he whispered.
Y/N heart clenched as the truth began to dawn on her. Her hand reached out, brushing a stray soft hair from his forehead as her eyes filled with emotion.
“You’re Matheo,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “My Matheo.”
Matheo nodded again, this time letting the tears spill over. “Mattia and I met at camp,” he began, his words tumbling out in a rush. “We figured everything out, about you and Dad, and we decided to switch places. I just... I wanted to meet you so badly. And Mattia wanted to meet Dad. I’m so sorry, Mom. Please don’t be mad. I love you so much, and I just... I just hope someday you’ll love me for me, not because you think I’m Mattia.”
Y/N breath hitched, and she pulled her son into her arms, holding him tightly as if afraid he might disappear. “Oh, my baby,” she whispered. “I’ve loved you your whole life. Always. With all my heart.”
From the doorway, his grandfather dabbed at his eyes with a tissue, muttering something about how dusty the room had gotten. Meanwhile, Martin, their family butler, stood openly sobbing, his dramatic cries echoing down the hall. The grandfather rolled his eyes and gently shut the door to give Y/N and Matheo some privacy.
Matheo pulled back slightly, looking up at his mother with a hopeful expression. “Does this mean we have to switch back now?”
Y/N let out a soft, bittersweet laugh, brushing away her own tears. “Technically, you belong to your dad, and Mattia belongs to me,” she said. “It’s... complicated.”
Matheo frowned, his nose scrunching up. “I don’t like this arrangement,” he said firmly. “It’s horrible.”
Y/N chuckled, her heart swelling with affection for her bold little boy. “You’re right,” she admitted. “It is horrible.”
“Then let’s go to Madrid,” Matheo said decisively, his small hands gripping hers. “We can talk to Dad and figure this out together.”
Y/N hesitated for a moment, the thought of seeing Carlos again making her heart tighten. But when she looked into Matheo’s eyes, so full of determination and love, she knew there was no other option.
“That’s what we’ll do,” she said finally, her voice steady. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll take care of everything.”
The two hugged each other again. Matheo sighed, feeling free from all the weight of the lie he had kept, while Y/N only thought “Oh God I have to see Carlos Sainz again. I'll be struck by lightning right now.”
prev chap
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
[02] | Valuable Addition.
Summary: Tension grows between you and Hyunju after the split vote to leave. However, you finally find Junhee and discover something dire.
— usual squid game stuff, bold is [day, date, time], italics is internal monologue and bold+italics is flashback
[ DAY ONE, ???, AFTERNOON ]
After the initial adrenaline wore off and the lights began to dim inside the bed hall, a devastating silence blanketed the room. Both you and Hyunju had long fallen into the silence, finding solace in each other's equal trauma. You fiddled, twisted and turned as you tried to fight the flashes of blood and body matter that printed itself into your orbs. The lifeless gazes you met as you stepped over and trampled on the bodies that were dead too early.
That could’ve been me.
However, you can’t shake the thought of player 456. He knew, he knew how the doll worked in such a short time and it was almost as if he had encountered it before. Played it before. You’re dying to ask Hyunju but a part of you is terrified to break the silence.
Suddenly, a loud whirring noise causes you to shake. You gasp, using your arms to prop you up as the lights in the room flash on. The doors had opened and the armed guards filter in.
Everyone who has previously sat on the floors scramble for safety causing the frames of the bedding to shake due to the intensity. You glance at Hyunju who grasps her mattress for support.
“Congratulations for making it through the first game. Here are the results for the first game.” The guard announces, staring straight as the screen above him begins to move. The player count falls from 456 to to 365 as he explains that 91 players had died in the first game. Your stomach drops at the figure and how that could’ve easily been you if Hyunju didn’t help you in your state of panic.
“Sir! Please don’t kill us!” An elderly woman pleads as she steps forward. What you assume is her son is attached to her arm and looks equally as horrified as the woman. She falls to her knees as she begs once more.
The sight is horrifying.
She pleads about her sons debt, explaining that she will do whatever it takes as long as they don’t hurt her son. Together, the two start pleading. Your stomach is churning at the scene as anxiety bubbles dangerously high within your body. You want to run, to hide.
“There seems to be a misunderstanding.” The guard explains but more people begin pleading, crawling and crying. They’re rubbing their hands together desperately and bowing with the deepest respect.
“We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you with an opportunity—“
“Clause three of the consent form!”
Player 456?
“The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. Correct?” He retaliates as he walks to the centre of the room, demanding authority. The tension in the air is thick as 456 has a silence standoff with the guards leader.
You swallow nervously, cringing at the loud sound.
“That is correct.” The guard nods slightly.
“Then let’s take a vote right now.” 456 replies with the upmost confidence. You glance between the two, thankful for your higher view.
“Of course.”
The room fills with relieved sighs. Your heart hammers heavily. Surely it cannot be this easy to leave?
I still haven’t found Junhee.
“But first, let me announce the prize amount that has been accumulated.”
Gasps fill the room as the lights dim, followed by the familiar arcade sound of a winning play. A large pig, beaming with a golden ray begins to fill with stacks of money. The sight is eerily dystopian as people’s faces begin to fill with curiosity and amazement instead of dread and disgust.
“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.”
Horror spikes through your body, pricking you like pins and needles. The money presented is the worth of these individuals. Instead of cash, you see visions of the crumpled corpses lying inside the pig.
I’m getting out of here.
[DAY ONE, ???, EVENING ]
Things had gone south quickly. Once the vote to leave was announced and the guards had the players vote one by one, by number, you watched as the one person you connected with voted to stay. You felt so… betrayed? Hyunju didn’t even look at you once she voted, joining the O side without any thought towards you. You watched from the X side as the people around her didn’t even glance at her yet celebrated others joining the side as they are too absorbed by their transphobic ideologies. A part of you wanted to scream as you watched the O side increase by one. How can she join the O side especially when the purple haired lunatic was screaming and running around proudly?
On the plus side, you found Junhee. She was player 222 and had a look of absolute distraught that you had never seen before. Despite the turbulent emotions of fear, anger and distress, you greeted your friend with a relieved smile and tight hug.
“I’ve been looking for you!” You both whispered, holding back your laughs as you took in each other's faces. You both share a defeated look, though the light in your eyes had brightened since finding Junhee alive.
Now, you followed Junhee to her bed. She was situated on the other side of the room which explained why you had struggle locating the small woman in the spacious cell.
You think back to earlier, how it felt Hyunju turned her back on you. Despite finding your friend, you felt you lost another.
“You chose to stay?” You ask Hyunju with slouched shoulders. The woman, who had previously started walking back to the beds, pauses. It’s almost as if she was trying to run away from the conversation as she must’ve realised you would be pissed at her actions.
‘We were talking about getting out of here less than two hours ago!’ The thought rattles in your head.
A frown presents itself on your face. It feels like the only thing you’ve done since you’ve been here is frown or become overrun by existential fear. Slowly, she turns on her heel.
Her pupils shake as her face contorts through her emotions. A pang of empathy hits your heart at the sight of her glossy eyes.
“I need the money, [y/n].” Her voice is shaky and despite the usual compassion you would feel, her words just irritate you. You both watched people die. You comforted her because she couldn’t save someone. You rubbed the bloody fucking sand off of both of your shoes.
You can’t help but scoff, “Hyunju. People died. That money is only there because people fucking died.”
“You don’t understand.” Hyunju replies. Her voice is still ever so soft and it only serves to annoy you more. How can she be so calm?
“I don’t? You want to keep playing — more people are probably going to die! Then what? You might get to live?” You can’t help it as you begin to raise your tone at her. Hyunju furrows her brows as her patience wears thin.
“I need this money to live. To be me.” She places a hand on her chest sincerely, but her tone is sharp, “To be beautiful.”
A palpable silence bestows you both. Like earlier, a silent standoff begins. You can’t find the words as your mind is reeling.
‘Why do I care so much about this random person?’
Hyunju turns on her heel once more, walking back to her bed. You step forward, speaking loud enough for her to hear.
“You’re beautiful already, unnie.”
A hand is placed on your shoulder. You jump, following the arm to the perpetrators face.
“You scared me.” You whisper, glancing back at your shoes. They’re still beaten, bloodied and still have sand stuck in the crevasses. The sight puts you off the food in your dish despite how your stomach tells out in hunger.
Junhee examines your face, “The person… 120. Are you okay?” She asks. Of course she witnessed your fight with Hyunju as she had been by your side, nervously pulling at your sleeve to get you to walk away. Junhee had never seen you in such a state and to be frank, it scared her quite a bit. She watched the clip of you on the screen too, how afraid and little you looked. It was nothing close to your usual self.
You sigh, “Yeah. I guess.” Pushing yourself from the bed frame, you glance around. Due to everyone circulating in groups it was now easier to spot individual people. It wasn’t hard to find Hyunju sitting by the elderly woman and her son who had previously begged for their lives.
Junhee opens her mouth to speak but you reply swiftly, “We should be in 456’s team.”
She blinks, “Huh?”
“He’s been here before. He won. We should be close to him. We could have a better chance of winning if we don’t get a majority vote out.” You point over at the distraught man. His friend, player 390 seems to be comforting him as he wallows in pity.
“Have this too.” Again, you jump. This time Junhee does too. An extra egg is placed onto her dish by the elderly woman from earlier.
How is she this fast?
She leans in, glancing at you and Junhee. She seems almost nervous or hesitant to speak, causing you to raise a brow.
“You should eat it for your baby, eggs are good for pregnant women.”
Baby!? Junhee is actually pregnant? Also how does this woman know??
“Junhee… You’re actually pregnant?” You ask in a low whisper. Junhee looks like a deer in headlights. Not only had this woman just known about her pregnancy, now you do. After all, she told you she thinks she might be pregnant.
Her pale lips quiver. She’s at a loss for words, staring at you with soulless eyes. You want to cry for her, seeing her in such a state. The usual bubbly girl who helps you make coffees is reduced to a mute state.
The elderly lady tries to crack a smile “I’ve helped more than a dozen women in my neighbourhood deliver their babies. I can tell just by looking at your body shape and the way you walk.”
It’s your turn to blink.
Am I really that stupid that I didn’t notice? Or is she some kind of walking ultrasound machine?
Junhee glances at her food dish. A part of you want to reach out and hold her, tell her she’ll be fine. But it’s not right.
“It looks like your due date is getting close. If you compress your belly to hide it, it’ll be dangerous for both you and your baby.” The elderly woman expresses sincerely. It’s the same pleading face she used when begging the guards to spare her life. Junhee’s situation is dire.
“That’s why you were in pain earlier!”
… She was?
Junhee shakes her head, “It’s not what you think.”
The lady sighs once more. Junhee sounds so dejected and you’re sure she’s thought about this a lot in the past few hours. Would it be safe for her to reveal her pregnancy?
Within seconds the lady is quickly rushed away by her son, pulling her before she can fully say what she wanted to Junhee.
“Junhee… You didn’t tell me?” You ask, looking at hee slumped posture. She stares at the egg placed over her partially eaten rice, toying with it with her spoon.
“I… I didn’t know how. It’s so complicated.” She replies, glancing at you through her bangs. You sigh, placing your food tin in front of you. The elderly woman’s words ring through your mind.
Her belly… She must be in so much pain.
You motion towards her stomach, “How long have you been compressing your belly?” The thought sickens you. How far along had Junhee been when she told you if she has to press it down? Was she testing the waters to your reaction?
“A while…” She whispers as she gathers a bit of rice on her spoon. Slowly, she brings the spoon to her mouth. Your eyes sting with the threat of tears as she shows her vulnerability to you.
You scoot forward, swinging your legs over the bed so you’re sat comfortably beside her. She doesn’t bother to move her head as you place your arm around her. Almost instinctively she leans towards your touch.
You rub her shoulder comfortingly in an attempt to soothe her.
“I’ll take care of you.”
masterlist
#gong yoo x reader#squid game x reader#kang dae ho x reader#squid game fluff#squid game series#squid game smut#dae ho x reader#squid game fanfic#jun ho x reader#kang daeho x reader#junhee x reader#hyunju x reader#cho hyunju x reader
65 notes
·
View notes
Note
Heya I’m here again! Hope you don’t mind.
I had a funny/cute Shadow x reader x Silver fanfic idea where shadow and Silver go through ridiculous lengths to try and one up each other trying to get more of the reader’s affection but reader tricks both of them to be at the same place and they all live happily the end.
“The Plan of All Plans”
Pairing(s): Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader x Silver the Hedgehog
Requested: Yes (by @shadowchan009 ).
Description: Being in love with two hedgehogs who always tried to one-up the other was a bit annoying. But you had two hands; so why couldn’t you all just date each other?
Notes: Ooh, my first poly request! And hello again! I don’t mind you requesting a lot, I like your requests! They’re tons of fun! I hope you enjoy this one too!
(Reader will be gender-neutral.)
(Not proof-read/beta-read.)
– – – – – – – – – – – –
To say you were miffed would be an understatement.
You were frustrated.
Sure, it was amusing at first seeing the two hedgies try to one-up the other, but at this point it was just ridiculous.
So to stop this, you had a plan.
You had two hands! You liked them both! And they should respect that!
So you were going to convince Shadow and Silver to both go on a date with you at the same time, without the other’s knowledge.
Getting to work, you first called Shadow, who, as he usually does, picked up your call on his communicator immediately.
“Hello, [Name],” Shadow says. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having you call?”
“Weeeell, I called to ask you out tomorrow night,” you tell him. You see his face tint green through the screen. Chaos, he’s adorable like that.
“Tomorrow night?” he asks.
“Yep! It’ll be at seven o’clock sharp, my place,” you tell him.
“I’ll be there,” he tells you. “See you then, [Name].”
“See you then, Shads,” you say before hanging up. “Now to call Silver!”
“Call me for what?” a voice asks from behind you, causing you to jump slightly, before you realize it’s just Silver.
“Hey Silver! I was just about to call you,” you tell him. “I wanted to ask you to come to my place tomorrow night.”
“Sure! What time?” Silver asks.
“Seven o’clock,” you reply.
“I’ll be there! Cya [Name]!” Silver says, waving goodbye before running off.
This was going according to plan.
The next day went by faster than usual, though you only supposed it did because Shadow and Silver were likely preparing themselves for the date.
You had just finished setting up the place with a movie you knew they both liked and an assortment of snacks, putting on a nice outfit as well, when someone knocked on the door.
You glanced over at your clock momentarily.
Seven o’clock, on the dot. That had to be Shadow.
You open the door and your prediction was right, Shadow was standing there in nice clothing, his quills up in a ponytail (and chaos did he look nice like that).
“Hey Shadow! Glad you could make it,” you tell him.
He lets off a nod, looking at your choice of clothing with a small green blush tinting his face.
You move aside to let him in, closing the door behind him.
“Go ahead and relax, I’ll be on the couch in a sec,” you tell him.
He does as told, sitting down on the couch.
As soon as he does, another knock is heard at the door, causing Shadow’s ear to flick.
“Did you order a pizza or something?” he asks.
“You’ll see!” you reply.
You open the door and there’s standing Silver, also dressed in quite a nice outfit.
“H-Hey [Name], hope I’m not too late,” he says, and Shadow’s ears both flick in an agitated way.
“No no, you’re fine! Come on in, Silver,” you tell him, letting him in.
Before he can get far, Shadow is standing in front of the both of you, a glare on his face.
“Shadow?! What are you doing here?!” Silver asks.
Oh boy, here it goes.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Shadow spats. “[Name], explain.”
“Okay, okay. I invited the both of you over at the same time on purpose,” you explain. “I’m tired of both of my crushes fighting over me like children.”
“Y…You have a crush on me?” Silver asks, his face tinted red.
“I don’t understand…Both of us?” Shadow asks.
“I have two hands, you two,” you say. “Ever heard of the word ‘polyamorous’?”
“No, that’s not one I’m familiar with,” Shadow says.
“Me either,” Silver mutters.
“It’s when three or more people, or in our case, mobians, date at the same time,” you explain.
“And it doesn’t count as cheating?” Silver asks.
“Nope!” you reply. “I wanted to make sure the both of you were here to see if you were okay with it.”
Shadow pauses for a moment before sighing.
“Fine, but don’t expect me to kiss this idiot anytime soon,” Shadow says.
“Yeah, same here,” Silver states.
“I wasn’t gonna suggest it. You two put that idea in your own heads,” you reply.
This causes both Silver’s and Shadow’s faces to flush their respective blush colors, causing you to laugh.
They couldn’t make you happier.
#sonic the hedgehog#sth#sonic fanfiction#sonic characters x reader#sonic character x reader#x reader#shadow the hedgehog#silver the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow x reader#silver the hedgehog x reader#silver x reader#shadilver#slow burn#veeeery slow burn#but they love you so they eventually come around :)#etc#insert tag here#tosffw writes
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
The sister of the winner
Part 2= The salesman
Summary: When gi hun wants to take down the games he faces a lot of problems. But one problem he also has is his relationship with his sister minji ( reader ). Gi hun dosent want to tell her about the games do to her innocent. But what happends when the salesman lores her into the games, and the siblings finds them self fighting for their lifes
---
The dim kitchen light flickered softly as you and Gi Hun sat at the small table, finishing dinner. The smell of warm rice and grilled fish still lingered in the air, but there was an unusual silence between you two. It wasn’t the easy comfort you usually shared while eating—something felt off.
You took a bite of your food, glancing at your brother. He seemed distracted, his usual bright energy absent. His eyes kept flicking to his phone, then back to his plate, and there was a quiet tension about him you couldn’t ignore.
After a few moments of eating in silence, Gi Hun broke the stillness, his voice low but casual. “I have to leave tomorrow for a few days… business trip.”
You paused mid-bite, looking at him with surprise. “A business trip?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light, though the sudden news made you uneasy. “What business? Since when do you go on trips for work?”
He shrugged nonchalantly, pushing his food around on his plate. “Just something I have to take care of. It’s not a big deal. I’ll be back soon.”
You studied him, unsure of why his words didn’t feel reassuring. There was a weight in the way he said it, like there was more to the story. But instead of pressing him, you just nodded. You’d gotten used to him shutting you out in recent months, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“Okay,” you said, forcing a smile. “A few days isn’t that long.”
Gi Hun looked up at you, a small, almost apologetic smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. You’ll be fine while I’m gone, right? You don’t need to worry about anything.”
You felt a flicker of frustration rise in your chest. Why does he keep saying that? You opened your mouth to say something, but you hesitated. He was already shutting down—again.
Instead, you swallowed your words, giving him a tight smile. “I’ll be okay, Oppa. You don’t have to worry about me.”
There was a brief silence as he met your gaze, and for a moment, you thought he might say more—maybe explain a little more about why he was going, or at least reassure you in a way that felt real. But instead, he just nodded, his eyes flicking back down to his food.
“Good,” he muttered, his voice softening. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just keep an eye on things, okay?”
You nodded again, trying to push down the unease that crept up your throat. “Sure,” you said quietly.
---
The conversation went back to small talk after that, but the air between you felt thick. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, something he wasn’t telling you. The way he kept avoiding your eyes, the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes—everything about this felt different.
But for now, all you could do was nod and pretend it was normal. Just a trip, just another thing he had to do. And in a few days, everything would be fine again… right?
---
The evening had been quiet after dinner. Gi-Hun had told you that he was leaving for a “business trip” the following day. You hadn’t thought much of it at first. He seemed distracted lately, but that wasn’t unusual. He’d been under a lot of pressure, and you knew it. Still, something in his tone had felt off, like he was hiding something. You brushed it off, deciding not to press him further, though a small knot of unease had begun to form in your stomach.
You settled down on the sofa, mindlessly flicking through channels on the television, but nothing seemed to grab your attention. The weight of the evening hung heavy on you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Gi-Hun’s sudden change in demeanor, his cryptic “business trip” excuse—there were too many unanswered questions.
Minutes passed, and you lost track of time, consumed by the quiet hum of the television and the thoughts swirling in your mind. You couldn’t focus on anything for long. There was this nagging feeling that something was off.
Just as you were about to put the remote down and head for bed, the sound of the front door opening caught your attention. You looked up to see Gi-Hun standing in the hallway, his coat on, keys in hand.
“I’m heading out to see someone. I won’t be gone long,” he said, his voice unusually calm, as if trying to sound casual.
Something about the way he said it made your heart tighten. You’d never been a particularly suspicious person, but now, for the first time, you found yourself feeling unsettled. His tone was too indifferent, too distant. And the way he said he wouldn’t be long—yet didn’t explain where or who he was seeing—set off an alarm in your mind.
A wave of anxiety washed over you, and you couldn’t just sit there anymore. You needed to know what was going on. You stood up quickly, trying to mask the sudden rush of panic, and excused yourself from the room.
You stood in the hallway for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then, without thinking, you headed toward Gi-Hun’s room. The knot in your stomach twisted tighter as you approached the door. You hadn’t snooped around before—never had the need—but tonight was different. You had to understand what he was hiding.
The door creaked slightly as you pushed it open, not wanting to make a sound. Gi-Hun's room was dim, the only light coming from a small lamp on his nightstand. Everything looked normal at first glance—his bed neatly made, his clothes folded carefully in the closet—but as your eyes moved across the room, they fell on something that sent a cold chill down your spine.
The closet door was slightly ajar. A glint of metal caught your eye. You hesitated for a moment, but then your curiosity got the best of you, and you walked over, your breath shallow in your chest.
You opened the closet door fully.
Your eyes widened in shock as you took in the sight before you. Hidden behind a pile of neatly folded clothes were several guns, knives, and other weapons. The metal gleamed under the faint light, and you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a step back, feeling your heart pound in your chest.
What is this?
A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, but none of them seemed to make sense. Gi-Hun had never been violent. He was kind, protective, but this... this was different. A knot of dread settled heavily in your stomach as a sickening thought crossed your mind.
Is he in a gang? No. No he can't be..
But it would explain the sudden money, the secretive nature of his actions. But the idea of Gi-Hun—the brother you’d always trusted—being involved in something so dangerous was almost too much to bear.
You swallowed hard, trying to calm your frantic thoughts, but the fear you felt was palpable. Your hands trembled as you closed the closet door quickly, but it didn’t help the sense of panic that was now rising within you. You couldn’t stay in the room, couldn’t breathe in the thick tension that now hung in the air.
You needed fresh air. You needed to clear your head.
Your heart was still racing as you grabbed your jacket, not caring that it was still chilly outside. You needed to get away from the house, away from the thoughts that were spiraling out of control. You didn’t even think twice before stepping out the door and into the night.
The cool air hit your face, and for a moment, it helped calm you, but the unease in your chest refused to subside. You walked down the street slowly, hoping that some distance from the house would give you clarity.
Your mind couldn’t stop racing. Was Gi-Hun really involved in something dangerous? Could he be in trouble? And why hadn’t he told you any of this?
As you walked, the quietness of the night felt overwhelming. Your footsteps echoed in the empty street, and you found yourself drifting toward the nearby park. You had always found solace there, the trees and quiet paths a comforting escape from the chaos that life sometimes threw at you.
But tonight, even the park couldn’t soothe you. The doubts clouded your thoughts, and you couldn’t shake the fear gnawing at your insides.
You sat on the park bench, staring blankly ahead at the empty pathways stretching out before you. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. The cool air helped calm your racing thoughts, but the knot in your stomach still lingered.
Gi-Hun’s secret, his weapons hidden in the closet, haunted you. You couldn’t understand why he would hide something like that from you. You were his little sister. You’d always been close, and yet now, you felt like there was an impenetrable wall between you two. He had his own problems, sure, but you had your own fears—fears about money, about not being able to make ends meet. And worse, Gi-Hun had no idea just how deep in debt you really were.
You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him, even though he had done so much for you already. He was stressed enough, with his own burdens. The thought of adding to them felt selfish. But the bills piled up, and the creditors kept calling, sending threatening letters you couldn’t afford to ignore. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep pretending that everything was okay.
The weight of it all pressed on your chest, suffocating you, and just when you thought you couldn’t bear it anymore, you saw him.
A man in a dark suit, walking toward you with a casual yet purposeful stride. You hadn’t noticed him before, but he seemed to appear out of nowhere, his gaze locked on you. For a moment, a flicker of unease ran through you. But then his expression softened, and he smiled as he stopped in front of the bench.
“You look like someone who could use a little company,” he said smoothly, his voice calm and inviting. There was something comforting in his presence, though you couldn’t quite place it.
You didn’t respond immediately, unsure of whether you wanted to talk to anyone. But his smile seemed genuine, and something about him made you lower your guard, even just a little.
“I’m… fine,” you said, forcing a smile, though you knew it probably didn’t reach your eyes. “Just… thinking.” as you sighed.
The man nodded knowingly, as if he’d heard this a thousand times. “Thinking, huh? Sounds like a heavy load.” He lowered himself onto the bench beside you without asking. His presence was calm, almost serene, but you couldn’t shake the odd sense of curiosity that had stirred inside you.
“You seem troubled,” he continued, his voice gentle but probing. “Something weighing on you?”
You swallowed hard, not sure how to answer. Was it that obvious? You’d always tried to keep your worries hidden, not wanting to burden anyone, especially Gi-Hun.
“I don’t know,” you said quietly. “I just… feel stuck, I guess. My brother’s been helping me out a lot, but the debts… they’re just too much. I don’t want to tell him, he’s already dealing with so much. But it’s like no matter what I do, nothing gets better.”
The man’s eyes seemed to sharpen, though his expression remained warm and understanding. “Debt can be a heavy weight, can’t it?” he said, almost like he was speaking from experience. “It can feel like you’re trapped in a cycle, no matter how hard you try to get out.”
You nodded, your heart sinking. That was exactly how it felt. Trapped. The bills never stopped coming, and every time you made even a small dent, something new came up to push you back into the hole. And Gi-Hun—he didn’t know how deep it went. He had been so generous with what he could, but the amount of money you needed to fix everything was far beyond anything he could provide. And you weren’t about to add to his stress by telling him.
The man leaned in slightly, his gaze intent on you. “You know, I’ve helped people in situations just like yours. People who feel stuck, who can’t see a way out. And there’s a way to break free from all that fear, all that uncertainty.”
You looked at him, confused but intrigued. “What do you mean?”
He smiled, almost knowingly. “There’s a way to escape the burden of debt. A way to stop living in fear. A way to take control of your life, once and for all. The only thing you have to do is take a chance.”
“A chance?” you echoed, your brow furrowing. What was he talking about?
The salesman reached into his pocket, pulling out a small folded piece of paper. He held it out to you, and despite your initial hesitation, you took it from him, your fingers brushing against his as you did.
“It’s an opportunity,” he continued, “an invitation to a game. A game where you can win enough money to change everything. To leave all your worries behind. Money, freedom—it’s all there for the taking, if you’re willing to take the leap.”
You stared at the small invitation in your hand, still unsure of what he meant. A game? How could something like that solve your problems? But the desperation inside you began to outweigh the doubt. Maybe this was the way out you’d been looking for. Maybe this was the answer you didn’t even know you needed.
“What kind of game?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, though your mind was racing.
The salesman’s smile never wavered. “It’s a game that changes everything. It’s not easy, but you’ve got nothing to lose, do you? The money, the freedom—it’s all there. You could leave all this behind. No more struggling. No more worrying.”
He was right. You had nothing to lose. The weight of your debts, the constant fear of not making it through another month—it was all crushing you.
You looked down at the invitation in your hand, diffirent shapes printed across it in simple black ink. The strange promise of money, of an escape, tugged at you. Could this really be the way out?
“I… I don’t know,” you said quietly, uncertainty and fear mixing with a glimmer of hope. “What if it’s dangerous?”
The man’s smile softened, his eyes gleaming with something almost... reassuring. “Life is always a little dangerous. But sometimes, you have to take a risk to get what you deserve. Think about it. The game could give you everything you need. A fresh start. A life without the weight of all this.”
You held the invitation tighter in your hand, the decision weighing heavily on you.
“Think about it,” he repeated, standing up slowly. “The game is waiting for you. You’ll know what to do.”
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with the invitation in your hand, the promise of something better, and a choice that would change everything. You placed the card in you pocket and went back home.
From author= i hope you guys liked it. If you want to be tagged say it in the comments❤️
Masterlist=
49 notes
·
View notes