#his hair isn’t long it’s just man bun
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dark content
tw: abuse
laying in bed with kaiser after an extra rough day, a day where he was so much worse than usual. a day where your whole body is left aching in pain. kaiser doesn’t offer you any help or care other than picking you up where you lay limp on the floor to toss you onto the bed so he can feel your warmth next to him.
you’re laid on the pillow trying your hardest not to move, every time you move it feels like a thousand bricks are being tossed at you nonstop. feels like hammers are beating at you. you’re so broken right now it hurts. but that’s what you get for dating someone like kaiser; you shouldn’t play angel with a guy like him. shouldn’t play the “i can fix him” game with someone who is more than just sad inside. someone who’s pain and hurt from the precious years of childhood manifested into a terrifying amalgamation of twisted morals and sick behaviour. you shouldn’t play those types of games with a man like kaiser, because he’s not like anyone you will meet or have ever met in your life. any therapist would truly have a field day with this boy because the amount of times he would have to be in their office is more than infinite, if it’s even possible. it’s impossible, but not for him. fitting for him. he could get better, but his mindset doesn’t allow this. he won’t change it anytime soon, that’s why you’re laid in complete and utter agony trying to bite back the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. even breathing is painful.
he’s next to you, looking like nothing even happened at all. he looks beautiful, hair tied up into a neat little bun at the back, glasses on, face illuminated by the awfully expensive antique lamp you insisted he buy the other month. he’s reading something, your vision is too blurry to see what he’s reading. the sound of him flipping the pages every so often is soothing, you could almost forget about the burning pain you have all over your body. almost forget how he looked as he punched you over and over; screamed at you again. how terrifying it is to be beneath him as he gets so violent with you.
it’s not fair, it’s really not. it’s not fair how he treats you when you are so kind to him; so gentle. sometimes he treats you with the same sweetness you taught him, but it’s not common. but you are different; you would never react back to him with the same brutality his actions teach you. you are a good person, your heart is big and your compassion swells for him even after he treats you like this. you couldn’t explain why even if you wanted to, human nature of this degree is wordless, unexplainable and weird. it’s illogical, but that’s one of the most beautiful things about humans.
that’s kaiser’s opinion anyway, he has you wrapped around his pinky finger. he can hear your shaky breathing next to him; he smirks to himself.
you look at him when you hear him fold the corner of the page of his book so he can find it easier later, and place his book down on the bedside table. you’re waiting for him to turn off the lamp, but he doesn’t yet. your boyfriend clears his throat and looks forwards into the rest of the very luxurious bedroom you both share. “hey, engel” he doesn’t even bother looking at you as he talks. he obviously lacks respect for you. and you acknowledged this long ago. and you stay. you stay with him. you wait silently for him to continue. silence is the best answer after a day like this - he’s impossible to predict. whatever is inside of him follows no logical pattern, if you say the wrong thing you’ll anger him more. “do you know why i hurt humans?” he still isn’t looking at you. you don’t talk still, you don’t bother looking at him anymore. the bruise on your neck that’s darkening even now, hours after the beating, is hurting too much. you stare at the ceiling as you listen to him talk.
he’s smirking as he talks, looking out into the bedroom with his hands behind his head. he carries on again, his voice never lacks confidence “it makes me feel alive.” you never quite understood that about him, you’re still quiet, listening to him, but you extend your arm anyway and lay it awkwardly on his chest despite the pain that shoot’s up the entirety of your arm from doing so. he acknowledges your smaller hand messily splayed across his chest by bringing his own bigger hand to squeeze it tightly, painfully even. he bent your fingers back today a lot, they still ache.
he doesn’t look you in the eye still as he talks. and you don’t want to look him in the eye either. you just both stare into the dimly lit surroundings as you maintain some semblance of skin to skin contact. “i’ve hurt a lot of humans before” he laughs a little. you gasp a bit and jump as he squeezes your hand painfully tight, obviously intending to hurt you. “but hurting you makes me feel the most alive.” your chest is hurting and your hand is crushed so immensely between his much bigger one. you heard the sickening crack of your fingers. you sort of wish he wouldn’t let go, you don’t want to see the damage. purple is a pretty colour, but not when it’s on your fragile skin.
kaiser squeezes hard, he can’t feel alive in any other way than this. than checking his heart rate in a morning. than looking in the mirror and seeing himself standing there, seeing himself in the flesh and knowing he’s alive. he loosens his grip on your hand though and turns to lay on his side to face you. he looks pretty like this, you’re looking at him as well; head propped on his free hand, the other reaching out to caress your battered cheek. he likes seeing what he did to you earlier, likes when he can assess the damage himself. it makes him feel so alive. and even though you won’t admit it his battery makes you feel equally as alive as he does. “you know, prinzessin, i’ve never been hurt before though.” blatant lie, he knows it is, you’ll believe it. he chooses to push his childhood far far behind him. he doesn’t associate with that time of his life, any memory of it that replays will only be viewed in a third person point of view. he doesn’t know that weak child anymore. “wanna know why?” and you give him a response for the first time. you nod and look up at him with your big glassy eyes. you’re like a broken toy, but you know that someone like kaiser can appreciate a broken toy. poor kids who grow up with nothing will accept anything. wealthless kids, abused kids who grow up and enter society as sickeningly ill in the head adults will stop accepting anything, they’ll only accept the familiar brokenness they know best. and if it’s not there in the person they want, they’ll make it themselves.
“it’s because i’m not human.” kaiser doesn’t see himself as human, the opposite actually. having a superiority complex is fun, but it’s less fun when it’s to cover up the hideous truth beneath. he’s caressing your beaten face so tenderly right now, as you deserve. for once he’s treating you kindly. he’s subhuman. but he’s also something better, he’s above everyone else. his intellect is a mean feat in any terms of human endeavour. his talent is unrivalled. he can do things no one else can. michael kaiser can make the impossible into a reality. michael kaiser can give hope to those who thought they could never dream again. he looks at the tattoo on his hand instead of your eyes, the tattooed hand that’s caressing your face; the face he’s grown to both love and despise over the years. the face he wants to destroy beneath his rough fists. the face he wants to hold gently and leave a kiss on. his tattoo is a reminder he’s above everyone else, but also that he’s a piece of shit. he has narcissistic tendencies but it’s mostly a cover up. even he doesn’t believe in his delusions sometimes.
poor you has to bear the brunt of that, but whilst he’s caressing your face you can forget about all the burden you’re forced to carry because of the emotional baggage your boyfriend brings to the relationship. he sighs. he can’t even look you in the eye. he stares off into the window, the one that rain is trickling against now. the city is beautiful at night, but you’re more beautiful. you’re pretty. so cute. süsser prinzessin. but he can’t bring himself to look at you right now. “i’m not like the rest of you, and i never will be.” you can’t tell what he’s thinking when he says that; but you’ve always been an empath. your hand finds its way back to his and you push it from your cheek and intertwine it between the fingers he hurt so much.
you make him feel so alive, hurting you is the best thrill he could get in life. bringing any harm to you is also the most saddening thing. you’re so nice to him even now, someone like him doesn’t deserve it. he’s a subhuman piece of shit and you love him. he’s also a god, renowned by many. he’s a subhuman who needs to be loved and he’s a cruel cold hearted god who needs to be taught gentleness and kindness. he just rubs his thumb over the back of your smaller hand and sighs. he’s a confident guy, no doubt about it, but maybe you won’t be around forever. maybe you will pack up and leave one day - he’s tried every trick in the book to ensure you stay, not that he even has to do that, because you would undoubtedly, but he can’t help but be worried.
it’s shameful to admit that maybe an emperor does need a princess sometimes. he rubs your hand in circle motions and presses a kiss to your forehead. he’s sorry, he’s so fucking sorry for doing this to you. he doesn’t know why he’s like this; you deserve so much more than this. infinity times infinity more. you’re really his princess, he’s sorry. sorry that he treats you like this. sorry that instead of affection all you get most of the time is his fists bearing into you over and over, a barrage of attacks until he’s finally decided you learned your lesson.
you don’t have anything to learn. kaiser loathes you because you’re a perfect human. you’re beautiful and you’re compassionate. you have a big heart and a big personality and he likes your stupid jokes you tell. and he hates that you stay with him. you’re so perfect, you really are. you notice his eyes are glossy. he hates to cry; kaiser fucking hates crying. you also know your boyfriend hates crying, so you open your mouth for the first time tonight. “i love you, micha.” a sweet whisper of love. he feels your other hand, your other thumb wiping up the small amount of wetness beginning to form on his lashes. only you could notice that, god he fucking hates you. “i love you too” he confesses in a rare moment of vulnerability.
you fall asleep in his arms, and he falls asleep too. he’s squeezing you so tightly, he’s holding you so close like you’re something so precious; like a thief of the night might come and steal you from him. every inch of your body aches from his earlier barbarity, but you didn’t care whilst falling asleep and you won’t care when you wake up. your heart is so pure that you simply don’t have the capacity to care about anything other than your boyfriends wellbeing and happiness.
kaiser is thankful he gets to even lay next to you. you’re not one of the same at all. but sometimes he debates your humanity as much as his own; you’re an angel.
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock x y/n#dark content#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader
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WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader
Description: Sunshine rookie gets a boyfriend, and Spencer can’t help but think he would be so much better for her. But that definitely isn’t the jealousy talking, right?
Length: 8k
Warnings: nothing really, jealousy? talks of sex? embarrassment? Mention briefly of vomit because of allergic reaction.
main masterlist.
author’s note: I want to write for these two until my fingers are two little stubs and even then I’ll learn with my toes. Can be read as a stand alone!
He thought he was going to be sick when he saw her that random Thursday, leaning against her desk, a sweet, bashful smile on her face. Or, more specifically, Spencer thought he was going to need to at least sit down when he saw the man standing next to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the little daisy earrings Penelope bought her for her birthday almost laughing at his gobsmacked expression.
He liked Agent Taylor Bingley. He respected the fresh faced desk jockey from the third floor that swanned around their bullpen, usually discussing warm up routines with Luke. He was quick on his feet, a pretty decent shot. Never missed a report, never tardy, even offered his parking spot up to Spencer on more than one occasion because he didn’t mind the long walk from the other lot. He flew under the radar, and when he was noticed, it was because he was a particularly kind soul.
Spencer didn’t think he’d ever seen him without those rosy cheeks that made him look almost always sunburnt, or that trademark boyish grin a handsome guy like him had down to a tea. So it really shouldn’t have been such a surprise to see him lingering around his sunshine girl.
Except she wasn’t his, not by a mile. They just spent almost every second of the work day together.
“Check it out, rookie has an admirer,” Tara said, the heels clicking against the floor as she passed the door, where Spencer seemed to have stopped, his eyes narrowing at the happy couple, “Can’t say I blame him. She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Spence?”
She didn’t realise she was rubbing salt in a superficial wound, but Spencer felt his jaw feather with annoyance. Because she was beyond a pretty girl, she was honey and all the months of Spring and a hot drink on a rainy day and finishing a good book and the dessert your mom let you have on your tenth birthday. Not that he could admit that. So he just nodded, right as Taylor leaned over to kiss the apple of her cheek.
She shied away, smiling to her lap and playing with her fingertips, not looking up from her little potted plant that sat next to her on her desk, and Spencer knew it was because she floundered when people gave her too much attention.
Like when Garcia had said her blouse and bun combo she’d worn the other day made her look like a sexy teaching assistant, she’d stammered something close to a thankyou and headed to the kitchenette to get herself a glass of water. Or when Rossi had said the bangs she had cut herself two weeks ago looked cute, that his daughter had been desperate to try something similar, she’d spilled her coffee down her front not even two seconds later because she had been so occupied telling the man it was no big deal.
“Morning, Doctor Reid, Doctor Lewis,” Taylor said, his pearly white teeth gleaming with that West Coast, surfer boy tan that made Spencer want to huff. The man was insufferable. Well, correction, he was insufferably nice for someone Spencer was desperate to pick apart with faults the second he’d seen her preening over their sunshine rookie.
“Morning, Agent Bingley,” Tara said civilly, smiling back at the Agent that passed them to head to the elevators. She caught a glimpse of Spencer, and was quick to make herself scarce in the interest of needing to check in with Penelope, because she knew what that stormy look in his eye and the way his lips pressed into a thin line meant, profiler or not.
Spencer didn’t pay much attention to Lewis leaving his side, not that he was trying to be rude, his eyes were zeroed in on the way she fumbled around her desk, looking for imaginary mess to tidy, which included rearranging the pots of glitter pens and highlighters next to her monitor, only to put them back exactly how they were before.
“Agent Bingley, that’s new,” Came a voice over her shoulder, that made her jump in her seat, and her expression was skittish when she swivelled around, Spencer towering over her with calculating eyes. Luke rolled his chair around the divider to lean in on the conversation, having witnessed the whole thing in high definition since her desk was right next to his.
“Oh, Taylor?” She squeaked, and Spencer didn’t need to touch her face to know it had gone hot just by the way she simpered and fiddled with the hem of her knee length skirt, avoiding their gaze, “Yeah, he took me to the aquarium at the weekend and we got lunch. It’s not really serious or anything, I don’t think,”
She seemed unsure, her lips pursed together and a tiny crease between her brow he hated, and it was then Luke’s deep laugh rumbled next to them.
“Does he know that?” Luke asked, and she shot him a look, wide eyed and confused, as he cleared his throat, “I was thinking I could take you out again in that pretty red dress-”
She threw a wad of scrunched up notepaper at him, an embarrassed smile on her face as she shook her head at him, “You have spent way too much time with Penelope, you’re turning into gossiping school children,”
But she seemed happy, like the thought of the conversation she’d had with Agent Bingley made her all the more girlish herself as she giggled lightly, her gaze meeting Spencer’s empty expression. He wished he could hide his jealousy better, perhaps even seem happy for her. She deserved someone soft and saccharine and humane like Bingley, not a rough shell of what once was a brilliant man. He knew he should feel somewhat pleased for her, at least now he had empirical, hard evidence on why he couldn’t have her, but he couldn’t.
“All I’m saying, rookie, is if you got that man bringing you breakfast and sweet talking you after one date, you’ll have him wrapped around your pinky by the time he’s your boyfriend,” Luke chuckled, and Spencer thought he might just burst a vessel with how hard he clenched his jaw at that dreaded b word.
Alvez had no idea just how much he had twisted a knife in Spencer’s gut, which was plunged even further when he saw that sparkle in her eye when she looked up at him.
“Ignore him, he’s a busy body,” She chirped, her teeth peeking from her lips when she hid a grin, “You wanna get coffee later? Taylor brought me tea and I’m dying for the good stuff,”
Spencer nodded with a small smile, because her attitude was infectious, and selfishly thinking that Bingley couldn’t be that perfect for her because she only ever wanted tea when she felt sick, usually towards the start of the month that he guessed was in correlation with her menstrual cycle but would never ask. She wouldn’t want tea for another two weeks, and would likely take an extra shot in her cappuccino today because this was when she felt the most lethargic.
Swivelling back around in her chair to log onto her computer, she remained completely oblivious to his inner turmoil.
For once, Spencer wished he’d been late to work.
–
Two months. They had been dating for two fucking months. As far as Spencer could tell, from Penelope’s need to chatter about their sunshine rookie and her hot, stud muffin of a boyfriend, things had only been official for about five weeks of that time, but it hadn’t stopped Spencer from wanting to swallow glass because that would likely be less inconvenient than seeing the two of them together.
Taylor usually brought her breakfast whenever they would get back from a case, which infuriated Spencer because he always bought her tea. She was a people pleaser, Spencer knew it before he had ever thought of her as anything other than the shiny newbie with too much joy and doe eyes he’d never seen before. But now, knowing her better than anyone else in the office did because she practically shadowed his footsteps, it was blaringly obvious to him that she had either never told him she didn’t like tea first thing in the morning, or he had never bothered to take notice.
Spencer felt an odd puddle of smugness and fury when on more than one occasion he saw her pouring it down the drain, cold after sitting there for hours until it was unbearable and she couldn’t force herself to drink anymore. It was obvious to him, so why wasn’t it obvious to her own boyfriend? Spencer thought bitterly. But then Agent Bingley did leave a sour taste in his mouth these days.
Speaking of which, Spencer felt that pang in his chest the way he always did when the happy couple walked into the office together. Her hand was usually in his, though she seemed to simper under the weight of the team's glances; knowing and teasing as he’d take her to her desk and whip out the to-go pastries that he’d bought them that morning.
“Morning, Spence,” She skipped past his desk, Taylor trailing behind her like a dog, though she seemed not to mind keeping him waiting a moment as she spoke to her friend, “How was Doctor Who?”
He smiled despite his grudge, because she always remembered what he said. He’d told her once that Thursdays were his evening to watch the show, and every time Friday morning rolled around, she’d bound up to lean over his computer and ask.
“It was okay, I’m excited to see what they do with a Female Doctor, even if I’ll miss Capaldi,” He replied earnestly, and her eyes filled with glee.
“Did they give her a new one of the doo-hickies they have?” She asked, his chest butterflying with an aching sort of affection because she seemed to remember everything he ever told her.
“Sonic Screwdriver?” She nodded her head, even though Spencer knew she didn’t quite understand the show entirely, “Yeah, I prefer Sarah Jane’s Sonic Lipstick however,”
“I wish I had one of those, I could reapply and save the world, how cool would that be?” She said, and they laughed together a little, before Taylor popped his head over Spencer’s computer with that dentist white beam and his excitable eyes, bluer than any sea rolling onto shore.
“Morning, Doctor Reid,” Agent Bingley said, and the smile withered from Spencer’s face, morphing into a civil nod, his expression unreadable.
“Morning, Agent,” He said, his eyes tracking back to his screen as he suddenly found Emily’s group email about staff room fridge etiquette invigorating.
Taylor must have taken it as a sign the Doctor Reid was busy and finally let him have a minutes peace, that is until she took a seat at her desk and he leaned next to her, handing her a warm bagel.
Spencer heard them chatting for about ten minutes, of which he was trying anything to tune them out, including roping Luke into their own conversation. It wasn’t until there was a lapse in the chatter that Spencer’s ears pricked up, and he heard her stand up from her desk, eyes wide as she spat a mouthful out into a tissue.
“Does this have coconut in it?” She asked somewhat fearfully, Spencer’s head whipping around to her little corner of the bullpen. Her little self help stickers dotted around her desktop stared back at him, her reminder to ‘drink water’ almost horribly ironic the second he’d heard her question.
His stomach dropped when Taylor frowned, “Yeah, it’s coconut and raspberry, is-is that not okay?”
Spencer was quick to stand up out of his own seat, rifling through his satchel to dig out his water bottle, making it to her desk in just two long paces and handing it to her without another word as she looked up at him worriedly.
“If you need to puke, it’ll probably be for the best so that you can get the traces out of your stomach. You can’t have the steroids before you hurl or it won’t work,” He soothed, and she nodded, sipping on his water with shaky hands, and Spencer was quick to catch the way her skin had a slight sheen to it that hadn’t been there before. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to gage if she was well enough to make it to the bathroom on her own or if he would need to drive her to the ER. Either way her expression worried him.
“I-I thought it was white chocolate,” She peeped, looking extremely sorry for herself as she dumped the chewed up brownie in her bin, and Taylor almost appeared at her side, looking entirely lost as he stroked a hand down her hair.
“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, seafoam hues trailing down her sweating face in terror.
“She’s allergic to coconut,” Spencer cut in, his tone a little harsher than needed, and her boyfriend’s expression wilted like a kicked puppy.
“Shit! You never mentioned, I’m so- I’m so sorry, honey,” Taylor went pale, and she didn’t look much better as she pushed past the two of them, heading for the bathroom, Spencer a single pace behind her.
“I got her, don’t worry,” He called over his shoulder to Agent Bingley standing there like a gaping fish, his hand running through his blonde sweep as he watched her all but running out of the office, Spencer’s long legs keeping up with her.
“Is your skin getting prickly yet?” Spencer asked. Swouldn't go into anaphylaxis, at least not as far as they knew, but the large hives that would appear on her chest and neck and the vomiting was not ideal. She kept a tray of steroids in her desk incase an accidental cross contamination happened (and because Spencer had forced her to have some on hand), but seeing her panicked eyes as she tasted the chalky fruit had made him fawn over her like she was marked for the plague.
“Neck is getting itchy,” She replied, tugging at her collar and pushing the door to the unisex bathrooms open, heading for the nearest stall, “You don’t have to stay for this bit, it’s not-”
He cut her off by sweeping her hair into a ponytail, as if to tell her to stop worrying about him, and he stroked a hand over her arm to let her know he was right there, because he knew she really hated anything gory and gross like that.
He hushed her when she’d try to apologise, hand her his bottle of water in between moments where her whole body seized.
And for a minute, she thought that Spencer might be the only person who she’d ever let see her like this. Not Luke, or Garcia and certainly not Taylor.
The thought of it kept her quiet for the rest of the morning.
-
They seemed to move past the whole debacle quickly. Luke said Taylor had taken her to a fancy restaurant uptown to apologise, making a huge point to avoid the coconut banoffee pudding like it was an explosive.
“You guys are so cute, you’re like Jane and he’s literally your Bingley. I swear your kids are going to be sweet enough I could drizzle them right next to ice cream,” Penelope said over the SUV console speaker, Spencer in the driving seat and her in the passenger, flicking through her files as they approached the victim’s house.
The rookie blanched, “Woah, woah, kids?” She protested, and even Spencer felt himself nearly swerve the minute the bubbly IT geek said it. She looked shaken, awkwardly chuckling and reaching to tuck hair behind her ear, “Slow down, Garcia, we’ve not even- you know what, I think we’re talking about the wrong thing here-“
“You’ve not even what?” Penelope burst out, her need for the lastest gossip overwhelming the reading of the room. She swallowed heavily, shifting in her seat to face out of the window, her knees touching the door with a thud, “Have you guys not had sex yet?”
“Penelope!” The woman screeched, her face hot and gobsmacked that she’d even said it out loud.
But it was telling enough, and Spencer’s face whirled over the console to her, guilt written on her features.
“I just assumed you guys had done it seeing as both of you are the hottest couple I know, I mean I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you if I was a guy-“ Penelope tried to save herself in the only way she knew how, by digging herself a deeper hole.
Spencer’s hand shot out for the centre screen, “We’re losing you, Garcia, you’re breaking up, bye,” He pressed the end call button, and he didn’t need to look at the girl’s face to know she was the epitome of mortified.
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, the awkward silence of the car killing him as much as he knew it was her, but he thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. It took him a minute before he opened his mouth to speak again, if not to ask her if she wanted to stop at a drive thru for breakfast, but she beat him to it.
“I was going to say we’ve not even said I love you yet,” She murmured, keeping her body entirely swivelled away from him, her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to make herself smaller, as if she could just smush herself into the seat so he wouldn’t say anything. She cleared her throat, scratching her wrist nervously, “But I guess that’s also true too,”
“Why not?” Her eyes snapped onto Spencer when he braved those two words, and he sensed he’d overstepped some sort of boundary before he realised it sounded like he’d been speaking about the latter, “Why haven’t you said it?” He clarified.
She went quiet, her shoulders shrugging being the only sign that she’d heard him, gaze trailing back out her window.
“He’s not said it yet either, and I don’t think I want him to. Not yet at least,” Her voice was soft, heavy as if every single one of them was coming from her heart, “Love is such a big emotion I think if he did say it, I wouldn’t know how to respond. Like, if I’m going to say it back to someone, I want to be sure I feel it otherwise it’s like I’m betraying everyone else’s version of love, you know?”
He thought she might just be an angel bottled up and thrown into his life, and he sometimes wished he could take a look inside that head of hers because how she had protected her beautiful look on the world after seeing so much hurt staggered him. He had become cruel and cold and heavy where she looked at the lecherous shithole heading for disaster they called Earth and saw right to its soul, gave it a hug, told it she would care even when no one else would.
He tore his eyes from the road, and took in the outline of her face, mindlessly watching the pedestrians on their daily commute to grab lunch, a dog peeing against a lamp post, a motorcyclist bobbing and weaving in between the midday traffic, her doe eyes never missing a trick.
Forcing his gaping expression back on the road, because he might just swerve and hit the damn rider off his bike if he let himself get lost in his little dreamscape that consisted of nothing but her and her face and her thoughts and her words, he cleared his throat, not sure how to add to the poetic, rose tint she seemed to see the world in.
“That’s good, that you’re taking things at your own pace, atleast,” He said, not particularly profound but at least it was something, “You shouldn’t do things just because someone else wants you to, even if you think it would make them happy,”
“But I like making people happy,” She countered, her expression troubled as she looked over at him with a quirked brow, “I like making you happy especially,”
“What makes you think I’m not happy?” Spencer asked, his mouth drying up, his stomach flipping in cartwheels when she giggled to herself like for once she was the smart one snd he was the one who needed teaching.
“It took you three and a half weeks to crack a smile when we first started working together,” His jaw clenched, because he was the one who counted the statistics. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her. “Honestly, I thought you hated me. I thought a seasoned agent like yourself probably would get frustrated teaching the dumb newbie the ABC’s, even ones that admire him. But then I thought, instead of getting so butt hurt about it all, I could just give you a reason to smile and you’d see that I’m not just a useless rookie learning to roll over for treats.”
Spencer’s throat bobbed. He’d hate himself forever for being so cruel to her those first few weeks, the clipped tones when she’d add something in a particularly chirpy voice, the way he would forget his manners sometimes when she’d bring him a coffee, because his head had been so deep in survival mode that being nice didn’t matter. Being nice had got him nowhere in Mexico, in fact it had shown his soft underbelly and drawn a target on it.
“I never hated you,” His voice croaked out, weak and pathetic, and it's times like that he remembered ten years ago talking to her would have made him blush, pop a boner, and lose half his IQ all in one go. Coughing, his knuckles turned white at the wheel, and he avoids her gaze that feels like a pitfall trap, “It’s difficult to go back to how you used to be when you’ve got a thousand eyes on your back waiting for you to lower your guard,”
“I know, I know that now, I jus-” She floundered, worried she’d touched a nerve, but he stopped her by leaning over the console and putting a gentle hand on her kneecap.
“Relax, I know I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around,” Spencer said, his timbre quiet but honest, “You were one of the few things I looked forward to, if I’m honest.”
“Really?” She said, agog, like she was waiting for him to turn around and say it had been a joke, “You didn’t think I’m too loud or, like, too much?”
“How can there be too much of you? If your body wasn’t in correct proportion, your organs wouldn't function-”
“Spencer,” She said, though he knew she was smiling even without having to look, “You know that’s not what I meant,”
“I know,” He replied, a smug little smile quirking on his own lips because he loved making her happy too, “No, I could never find you too much.”
She simpered under his words, his hand a stoked flame on her skin as she brought her fingers over the top of them to squeeze them together, before she changed the subject because she knew her cheeks might just explode if they heated anymore.
–
They were back from a long case, one that had made everyone tired and grumpy, especially because they needed to swing by the office for an hour of admin even Emily couldn’t wriggle them out of.
And ofcourse, as he always was when Spencer was feeling like he was already about to strangle someone out of annoyance, Agent Bingley was right there when they entered the lobby.
She hadn’t slept well on the jet, despite Spence loaning her his jumper to use as a pillow, and she was in desperate need of coffee, the kind that Spencer and Penelope forced her to try instead of the cold caramel thing she liked. She’d even go for one of Luke’s zero sugar, zero milk atrocities right now.
“Hey guys, how was the flight?” Taylor jumped in to ask, and everyone gave some sort of variation of a groan because that was exactly how it had felt. His attention turned to her, as she pulled up the rear with Spencer attached her her hip because she had been practically sleepwalking the entire way there, “Hi honey,”
“Taylor, hi,” She said, her eyes perking up when he held out a hot take away cup for her, “You really didn’t have to,”
“Nonsense, herbal tea is supposed to alleviate headaches and help get you to sleep,” He replied, his other hand behind his back quickly whipping out to produce a bunch of flowers in front of her face.
She barely had time to flash him a grin to hide the disappointment that it was nowhere near as caffeinated as she’d like, nor that she didn’t even liked herbal tea, before a bunch of lilies were thrust her way.
“Lillies,” She said, her hand covering her chest at the touching sentiment, “Taylor, you shouldn’t have,”
“I know they’re your favourites,” The blonde replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and effectively putting a wall between her and Spencer, whether he meant to or not. Her expression wavered, and Spencer's eyes went straight to her, waiting for her to correct him. Because they weren’t her favourites, not even in her top five. Hyacinths were. Or Foxglove. Or Delphiniums. Not Lillies.
She nodded wordlessly, and the three of them headed for the lift, where the rest of the team held the door for them, her expression tiptoeing between guilty and smiling, Taylor’s almost ecstatic to see her after her long few days away, and Spencer’s entirely pissed off that the sun kissed jerk couldn’t see every sign blaring in his face.
“I might have to cut off the stamen when Ace comes over,” She queried, her eyes roving over the beautiful white petals opening towards her like a book.
“Ace? Who’s Ace?” He said, and Spencer and JJ exchanged a glance, because the whole elevator was now privy to their conversation as David pressed the six button. Taylor reached forward to push the three for himself.
“The dog I foster sometimes, the one I told you about. He helps me when I need to talk through some things. He’s a very good listener,,” She said with a dopey smile on her face, her eyes casting over her boyfriends face with a willing expression, because she knew for a fact she’d told him at lengths about the bouncy Spaniel that adored her, “He comes over for playdates, but the pollen inside lilies are poisonous to dogs,”
Taylor scrunched his nose up, “Ugh, I hate dogs, they’re so slobbery and the always seem to smell awful,” He commented, her face dropping the slightest in a way that made Spencer’s hand curl into a fist, because how dare Agent Bingley take that away from her, “I thought you were a cat person?”
“I like them both equally, but Ace is sweet. He curls up on my legs after we’ve gone for a walk,” Taylor still didn’t seem convinced, and she felt stupid for even mentioning it, well aware that the rest of her team were listening in on her childish description of the old dog that wanted nothing but love.
“Why do you need a dog to talk anyway, babe? You have me,” Taylor said, in a way that was supposed to sound comforting but made Spencer want to shake him and tell him to listen to a damn word she was saying. Her eyes dimmed, and she looked at the lilies again, feeling entirely ungrateful for wishing they were something else, and the elevator doors opened onto the third floor. Taylor kissed her cheek and waltzed out of the lift with a quick goodbye to her team that was returned in murmurs. Turning to look at her, his body already in the anteroom of his own floor, he smiled sweetly at her, “I love you,”
JJ and Emily whipped their heads to her face, expecting to see some kind of puppy love blossom there, only to find wide-eyed panic, her smile slowly slipping. Rossi cleared his throat when she said nothing, the air turning stale as the team waited for her response, Taylor looking at her expectantly, and she wished the ground would open up then and there to swallow her whole, because that would probably be better than whatever this was.
Tara nudged her shoulder, waking her out of her daze, Luke scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, and it was then after a beat more of silence that Taylor opened his mouth again, “Babe, did you hear what I-”
She leaned forward to press the close door button, her doe hues in full flight mode, her fingers only picking up the pace when her boyfriend took a step closer towards the elevator, and Emily brought a hand over her mouth in muffled laughter when the doors slammed shut in front of him, their sunshine rookie entirely spooked and needing a quick exit.
The tiny metal box went silent, Spencer watching her face meld from alarm to horror, to sheer embarrassment.
“I mean, I’ll give it to you kid, that’s one way to do it,” Rossi said, patting her on the back and she shoved her face in her hands, the stems of the dove white flowers brushing against her cheek roughly.
“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” She groaned through her fingers, JJ chuckling as the doors to their own floor opened up.
“Oh honey,” She said, rubbing the girl’s back gently, leading her out onto the BAU carpet that felt harsher against the souls of her shoes than it ever had before, “I think what you need is a coffee and a long talk with someone who isn’t a dog,”
Spencer watched her shuffle to slump down behind her desk, her expression still rattled and lost, JJ’s eyes flicking to him every now and then in a way that urged him to be the one to do just that because it was obvious by now who she talked the most openly to in the office.
But by the time he’d braved walking over to her desk, she’d already rushed through her report, excusing herself home for the day, and he knew her well enough to know she needed some breathing room before he could approach the subject, otherwise she would shut the doors on him too.
He hated the spiteful part of him that revelled in Taylor’s expression when that metal screen had slammed in his face.
—
It was three days later, and she had enforced a strict ban on talking about that day in the office. For once she didn’t look like she was going to break her resolve either, since every time someone tried to weasel information of her she would either pretend she hadn’t heard, or would excuse herself to make her fifth coffee of the day, or even had thrown her paperwork on the floor when Luke had pushed her for an answer just for an excuse to avoid the topic.
In fact, Spencer himself had been tempted to get her alone because he knew she would crack without much pressure from him, though the thought of using her trusting nature against her seemed wicked, and so he stopped himself and settled for curiosity.
It wasn’t until they were away on a case and they were shoved in a room together that the subject of Taylor was even brought up, and even then it was entirely out of his control.
“I’ll take the couch,” Spencer said, his eyes falling on the double bed in the centre of the room, striding over the other side of the room to throw his to go bag down on the two seater sofa that would wreck his back.
“Don’t be silly, we can just share the bed.” She said, as if it was the most obvious solution, which it was, “I sleep talk a little, but just give me a shove and I’ll shut up,”
Spencer paused, watching her fumbling around her bag for her toothbrush and paste.
“Won’t your boyfriend mind?” He asked, his palms clammy because he worried for a moment it was wrong to bring it up, and his chest butterflied when she froze, “Sorry, I know you didn’t want to talk about it, I just thought I wouldn’t like my girlfriend sharing a bed-”
“We broke up,” She said, taking pulling a large pink shirt out her bag and some strawberry printed shorts, her toiletries stuffed in her pockets, “So don’t worry about any of that stuff, we can share,”
And she waltzed into the bathroom without any more explanation, the lock clicking behind her and leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts.
They had broken up? Was it because of what happened in the elevator? Was it because of what Penelope said in the car? Was she the one to break up with him or the other way around?
Spencer felt like a gossip, even though his thoughts had gone no further than his cranium, and by the time she emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and in her pyjamas, he had already changed himself, tucked himself under the cover in the hope she understood they didn’t need to talk about it if she didn’t want to.
She smiled at him, tucking her dirty clothes back in her bag and heading for the bed, slipping under the plush duvet with a soft ooft.
“Light on or off?” She asked, her finger hovering over the switch beside their bed.
“On, if that’s okay?” He replied and she nodded wordlessly, shuffling down under the covers, pulling them up to just below her armpits. Crossing her arms over her stomach like she was snow white waiting to fall into a poison-laced slumber, her eyes bore holes into the ceiling, and his thoughts banged loudly against his temple. The silence of the room seemed to only turn their avoidance tactics into a cacophony they couldn’t ignore.
“If you’re going to ask questions, I might as well tell you before we get back to Quantico.” She said finally, her sigh heavy and exhausted and she looked over at him, his brunette locks splaying over the pillow in waves, his facial hair scratching against the sheet when he flicked his head over to her too.
Hazel had never been such a pretty colour than when they sat in silence for a moment, staring at one another, almost daring the other to speak first. He swallowed, his mouth watering at how she looked, tucked under the sheets, her body lax and soft under her pyjamas, her hands skimming over her stomach nervously.
“Is it because of the day in the elevator?” Spencer asked after a few minutes, breaths suddenly becoming difficult to regulate naturally unless he forced them to be, because he was so close to her under the covers, his entire body too long and gangly for just a twin bed, he could smell her shampoo and conditioning combo in full force. Her spearmint tongue rolled words around her mouth for a minute, dropping down to his Star Wars shirt he felt childish for wearing the minute he saw her looking at it.
“Kind of, he just wanted us to move so fast, it just kinda made me nervous, but I always thought being nervous was supposed to be good, you know?” She sighed, forgetting to breathe in between her splurge of words that had been building up inside her for weeks, “Like you said the feeling of excitement and fear are almost identical so I think I just convinced myself I was being dumb and I was being a bad person for not just giving him what he wanted. I’m supposed to love him, right? Being his girlfriend and all that,”
He had said that; because scientifically that was exactly correct. The hormones released during love and during fear were, down to their core, chemical matches, and it felt funny she’d remembered that fact considering she made him feel somewhere in between too. He knew she was special, just as much as he knew the idea of tainting her with his core terrified him. Like he secreted some kind of radiation that would ruin her if she got too close for too long. But he couldn’t help it. How do you stop yourself from wanting something good? It was just science. A Pavlovian response.
“You’re not supposed to do anything. There’s no timeline for how you feel, and you can’t force yourself to feel something any quicker or stronger than you do,” He said, shaking his head when she bit her lip, her fingertips playing with one another ontop of the sheets.
“He wanted to know when I was ready to have…” She swallowed, her cheeks heating, “Intimacy with him. A-and it’s not like I’ve not done it before, I had a boyfriend in high school, but I just felt like with him…”
“He didn’t pressure you, did he?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowing as he felt a surge of annoyance flash through his blood that she had wound herself up so much just because of some guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants for a few months.
Her eyes widened, taking in the storm brewing in that beautiful woodland gaze of his, and she shook her head quickly, “No, no, nothing like that. This was all on me, it was all just me being dumb,”
“You’re not being dumb just because some guy didn’t like the answer you gave,” He corrected, exhaling deeply and letting his frown drop, because he knew she hated when he did that, “Why didn’t you want to, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She shrugged, looking back up at the dusty lamp shade hanging from the ceiling, the cobwebs that smattered around the wooden panels.
“I don’t know, I just kind of never saw the two of us.. becoming intimate, you know?” She said, her tone sheepish like she was in confession and he was a priest sat on the other side of the divide. He looked over at her, scanning the outline of her face, but she seemed adamant on avoiding his gaze, because she knew she would spill everything the minute she looked at him. With Spencer, there were no secrets, and that was entirely the problem.
Spencer’s lips pursed, thinking of exactly the right thing to say to such a delicate soul when she was laying herself hypothetically bare for him.
“You don’t have to be intimate in a relationship if you don’t want to. No one who loves you should ever make you feel like there’s an expectation or like you owe them that,” Spencer explained softly, edging his pinky finger out the tiniest bit to catch the back of her hand that now lay flat on the bed, her head turning up to meet his round forest hues that looked down at her with more softness than he’d felt in a long time.
He wished he could stay here with her forever. In the quiet of this room, they were just the two of them, not Doctor Reid and the Special Agent he had a huge hopeless crush on that was years his junior and thought she could fix everything wrong with the world.
“I know,” She sighs, and his heart caught in his throat when her pinky raises up to meet his own, the tips of their fingers brushing against one another like they were meeting each other for a slow dance. He had touched her many times before, but there was something illicit about this time. Like their skin had become oppositely charged and was pulling the other one in with an electric crackle, “He never pressured me but I felt like I could have tried harder to want it.”
“If you don’t want it, you don’t ever have to have it. A lot of people reach your age when your frontal cortex is developed and realise they might be asexual, it’s not a bad thing-” He tried reassuring her, but she was quick to shake her head again, bashfully ripping her eyes away from him to look at their caressing fingertips.
“No, no. It’s not that I never want to be intimate ever, I just never really felt comfortable around him enough to let myself want it. Like I couldn’t just be me with him, I was just being what he wanted me to be. Like he never really knew the real me,” She explained, and she rolled over onto her side to face him, her other finger coming up to absentmindedly trace over the prominent vein that ran up his arm, stopping just below where his old needle scars were at the crook of his elbow. If she saw them, she didn’t say a word, but Spencer felt like she was trailing a flame over his skin. He thought if she took his manhood in her hand she’d probably get the exact same response from him, because with every invisible swirl and line she drew over his skin, he felt a heat ripping through his loins. “Does that make sense? Like I didn’t think he would like the ikky parts of me so I ended up putting on a charade,”
“Y-yeah,” He replied, and his stammer made her look up, eyes wide and innocent as she watched him all but falling apart under a single fingertip. God he was pathetic. Mid thirties and nearly finishing in his boxers over a pretty girl touching his arm. Only it wasn’t just a pretty girl. It was her. His sunshine girl. “But I don’t think you have any ikky parts, to be honest,”
Her eyes deepened into pools of awe, and he watched her trail a glance down his nose to his mouth vulnerably.
“Spencer, you’re being too kind,” She whispered, and he swore his chest lurched.
He cleared his throat, and moved to roll over towards her too, hoping to disperse some of the energy that was clogging between them, only for it to become dialled to a hundred, trapping them in a tiny box where they were looking at one another, laying on the bed they were being forced to share and almost holding hands, because committing to full thing was scary like they were ten years old in a playground.
“Of course that makes sense. It’s much healthier to form intimate relationships with people we trust and feel safe with than rushing into things,” Spencer tried to breeze past the tension, but her breath was fanning over his face, almost tripping him over his words, because she was still looking at him like he knew all the answers. Because he usually did. Except for this time. This time, he felt like he was walking blind towards his point, “Not that one night stands should be shamed or anything, but it’s much better to engage in sexual intercourse with someone when it feels right,”
She breathed out deeply, licking her lips, and her finger movements stopped.
“So it’s just a when you know, you know, kind of thing?” She asked, her brows pulling together in a saddened frown, “I’m not, like, broken or anything?”
He sat up on his elbow, grabbing her wrist tight enough she would listen the minute he said it to her, because he never wanted to hear her say that again, “There is nothing wrong with you, you hear me?” She looked up at him with glassy eyes, wide and shocked to see him so desperately insistent over her, “You feeling secure is more important than any guy out there, no matter how nice they are, got it?”
She nodded after a beat, because she thought her brain might have stopped working with the way he was leaned over her, looking down at her with a glimmer of the harshness he’d been drowning in when she first met him. These days he seemed to have mellowed out the tiniest bit, except the straightforward tone he held with everyone else who wasn’t her, or the general heavy handedness he didn’t seem to realise he was capable of. Like in the way his warm, rough hands gripped the skin of her wrist, his expression somewhat frustrated though not with her as he looked down at where she was half beneath him.
“Spence?” She whispered into the electricity between them, her eyes trailing over his nose again and ghosting over his half attempt at facial hair. They were just whisps, but they suited him embarrassingly well. He didn’t reply, just stared at her to wait for her response, “I feel safe with you, you know that?”
He swore his heart was thumping out of his chest. She looked divine under his hand, sweet like a pudding begging him to taste, and he couldn’t help it when his thumb trailed up the side of her jaw, brushing just under her bottom lip, and she seemed to press herself further into his touch, a cat being scratched behind velvet ears.
“You’d tell me if you ever wanted me to stop, wouldn’t you?” He murmured, gooseflesh crawling up his arm when she nodded, her eyes boring holes into his soul when she looked up at him like that.
“Always,” She answered honestly, blinking at him once, twice, before she took a deep breath for courage, “But what if I never wanted you to stop?”
Spencer nearly moaned when he crashed their lips together, and he heard her squeak in delight beneath him, his large hand cupping her jaw, weaving into her hair, tugging her closer. She felt like her was consuming her whole, and she had no qualms about it, not when she reached a hand up to his shoulder and tugged him even more on top of her, the weight of him on her chest comforting and achingly right.
He pulled away to breathe for a moment, but she was chasing his lips, her touch maddening and he swore his brain switched off when she ran a hand up his spine, slipping under his shirt and tracing over every one of his vertebrae making him shiver. Her lips were stronger than any craving he had ever felt, the instant dopamine rush embarrassing for a man of his age, so hardened by the world reduced to putty, ready to beg for more because now he’d had a taste of her ambrosia, he didn’t think he could ever think straight again. A man sent crazy by forbidden wine.
He pushed her hair away from her face, using his long fingers to wrap around the back of her head and pull her impossibly closer to him, his other arm skirting down to her clothed waist and pressing their bodies together. She whined in his mouth, and Spencer thought he could finally die happy.
He pulled away to let her catch a gasp, her fingers carding through his long, brown curls, scratching against his scalp in a way that drew a low growl from his throat. He needed more, needed her, more than the air he gulped down ravenously and he found himself kissing at her soft neck, her head tipped back in bliss as he kissed every inch he could.
“The reason I didn’t want it with Taylor,” She choked between manic breaths, her hands holding onto him so tight he knew she didn’t have any intention of asking him to stop, “Was because it didn’t feel like this,”
Spencer wove their fingers together, pushing her hand above her head as the other came up to tilt her face towards him, looking into her bleary eyes for a second, their noses ghosting past one another, her mint breath delicious on his lips.
“It never feels like this, baby,” He whispered, their foreheads pressing together before he gave into her again and pressed his lips against hers so hard she whimpered into his mouth.
And she believed him.
--
#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#matthew grey gubler x reader
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Gang Baby || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader
Summary: inspired by this song since its been on replay 😛😛
Warnings: slighting suggestive content
Word count: 1,621
MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)
divider by @h-aewo
“I didn’t know your sister was gonna be here, Top,” Ryan’s voice cuts through the laid-back chatter, his tone laced with intrigue. The hum of an engine grows louder, pulling all heads toward your G-Wagon as it glides effortlessly onto the sand, coming to a stop just a few metres away from the group. The sleek black vehicle stands out starkly against the golden beach, drawing the kind of attention that was almost second nature for you.
Topper doesn’t bother turning around again, already refocused on his beer. He shrugs, his response casual. “Neither did I,” he mutters before taking another sip, seemingly unbothered by your unexpected arrival. But Rafe isn’t as composed. His eyes stay fixed on the car, his grip tightening slightly on his bottle as he watches you climb out, exuding a natural confidence that instantly commands attention.
The sunlight catches on your sunglasses as you slide them onto your head, your laughter mingling with the crash of the waves as a group of your girlfriends spills out behind you. You move with an easy grace, chatting and gesturing as you all begin unloading blankets and bags from the trunk. Unaware—or perhaps indifferent—to the stares from across the beach, you pick a spot just far enough to have your own space but close enough that the guys still have a perfect view.
As you and your friends start setting up, the group’s conversations stall, interest clearly diverted. Topper remains the exception. He keeps his gaze forward, not even sparing a glance. It’s as if he’s immune to the spell you cast so effortlessly, a talent even he couldn’t deny you had. The moment you and your friends strip off your cover-ups, revealing brightly coloured bikinis, there’s a palpable shift in the air.
The sunlight glints off your skin, highlighting the subtle shimmer of lotion as you toss your clothes onto the blanket without a second thought. You laugh at something one of your friends says, the sound light and carefree, as the group collectively saunters toward the waterline. Ryan lets out a loud wolf whistle, shattering the silence and drawing out a chorus of laughter and low whistles from the others.
“Fuck off, man.” Topper’s sharp voice cuts through the noise as he whips around to glare at Ryan. “She’s my sister. Have some respect, yeah?” Ryan smirks, leaning back against the cooler with an air of mock innocence. He holds up his hands in surrender, though the glint in his eyes says he’s anything but apologetic. “Relax, Top. No harm meant.” Topper groans, rolling his eyes as he pushes himself up. “You’re all idiots,” he mutters, stalking off toward the cooler for another beer.
The group’s laughter dies down as they return to their conversations, but Rafe remains quiet, his gaze still fixed on you. You’ve reached the waterline now, dipping your toes into the waves as they lap against the shore. The breeze catches your hair, tossing it slightly as you tilt your head back and laugh again, completely unaware of the effect you’re having—or perhaps you know exactly what you’re doing. Rafe’s jaw tenses, his fingers absently drumming against the bottle in his hand.
He forces himself to take a sip, masking his reaction, but his eyes betray him. They keep flickering back to you, drawn like a magnet, even as he tries to focus on the conversation swirling around him. "God, if only she’d let me hit," Ryan groans, his voice dripping with mock longing as his gaze lingers on you. You’re standing a little ways off, twisting your hair into a messy bun with an ease that only seems to amplify the effortlessness of your beauty.
The wind tugs lightly at the hem of your cover-up, and Ryan’s comment draws a few snickers from the group. Rafe freezes mid-sip, his jaw tightening as his eyes dart toward Ryan. He lowers his beer slowly, scoffing loudly enough to turn a few heads. "What a shame, Ryan," he says, his voice thick with sarcasm, his words aimed like a blade. Ryan turns toward him, clearly not expecting the jab. "What’s that supposed to mean?" he asks, his expression souring as he narrows his eyes at Rafe.
Rafe shrugs, leaning back with an air of practiced nonchalance, though the tension in his shoulders betrays him. "Maybe the reason she won’t is because she's got standards," he replies bluntly, his words landing with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Ryan’s reaction is immediate. His eyes widen in shock before they harden into a glare, his posture stiffening as he steps closer. "The fuck did you just say, Cameron?" he growls, his voice low and threatening, clearly not accustomed to being called out.
Rafe meets his glare with an unflinching gaze, his expression calm but simmering with disdain. "You heard me," he says evenly, not bothering to repeat himself. Ryan huffs out a sharp breath, clearly fuming but trying to hold onto the last shreds of his composure. "She said she was waiting till marriage or some shit," he snaps, his tone dismissive, as if the concept itself was laughable. "Yeah right," Rafe cuts in, his voice cold and dripping with condescension as he interrupts Ryan mid-sentence.
His scoff carries an undercurrent of anger, and his eyes flick toward you briefly. You’re still by the water, laughing with your friends, blissfully unaware of the brewing tension. Ryan’s fists clench at his sides, his anger boiling over as he steps even closer to Rafe, his face only inches away. "You got something else to say? Spit it the fuck out," he snarls, his voice taut with frustration. Rafe doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink.
Instead, a slow, mocking smirk curls at the corner of his lips as he leans forward, lowering his voice just enough to force Ryan to lean in. "I already did," he says coolly, the edge in his tone cutting deeper than anything else could. The group falls silent, the weight of the tension hanging thick in the air. A few of them exchange uneasy glances, waiting to see if Ryan will push further, but Rafe doesn’t seem to care. He grabs his beer again, taking a long, deliberate sip as if Ryan isn’t even worth his energy.
"She's a virgin, man," Ryan chimes in again, his tone laced with smug certainty as he leans back, clearly enjoying the stir he’s causing. Rafe groans quietly, rolling his eyes as Ryan keeps going, unable to stop himself. "That's what she told you?" Rafe asks, cocking an eyebrow at him, his voice low and incredulous. Ryan furrows his brows, leaning forward slightly, confusion flickering across his face. "Yeah—" "She's obviously fucking lying," Rafe cuts in sharply, his words blunt and dripping with disdain as he tilts his beer bottle to his lips.
Ryan’s head snaps toward him, his irritation flaring instantly. "And how the fuck would you know?" he snaps, his voice defensive, as if daring Rafe to prove him wrong. Rafe sets his beer down with a deliberate clink, turning to fully face Ryan. His expression is a mixture of disbelief and frustration, like he can’t believe he’s even having this conversation. "Holy shit, Ryan. Are you fucking stupid?" he says, his tone laced with equal parts annoyance and amusement.
It was almost mind-boggling to Rafe how Ryan still didn’t get it, how he wasn’t piecing things together. The blatant cluelessness was almost impressive, like Ryan was completely oblivious to what was right in front of him. The group exchanged knowing glances, all of them silently acknowledging what Rafe was talking about. But Ryan—still too thick-headed to catch on—remained completely in the dark.
Rafe let out a short, exasperated laugh, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, man," he muttered under his breath, taking a long sip of his beer to mask his disbelief. The others could only watch in quiet amusement, waiting for Ryan to finally catch up. Before Ryan could say anything else, a voice cut through the tension. “Hey.”
Everyone’s heads turned to see you approaching, the sun catching the golden tones in your hair as your sandals softly crunched against the sand. You carried yourself with the same effortless confidence that had all their attention earlier. A slow smirk spread across Rafe’s face as he leaned back in his seat. “Hey, baby,” he greeted, his voice dropping slightly as he spoke.
You smiled warmly in return, leaning down to meet him halfway as his lips captured yours in a kiss, lingering just long enough to make the rest of the guys visibly uncomfortable. Ryan’s jaw practically hit the floor, his eyes widening in stunned disbelief. Pulling back, you placed a hand on Rafe’s shoulder casually, your gaze flickering briefly toward the group.
“You still comin’ over tonight?” Rafe asked, his tone casual, though there was a distinct possessiveness behind it as he glanced at Ryan. You hummed in agreement, nodding your head as your eyes locked with Ryan’s, who now looked utterly blank, his mind clearly reeling. The corner of your mouth quirked up slightly, amused by his reaction.
Rafe caught the exchange and snickered, leaning forward with a smug grin. “Can’t believe you told him that,” he teased, his voice laced with sarcasm as he nodded toward Ryan. Feigning innocence, you turned back to Rafe, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Tell him what?” you asked sweetly, batting your lashes as if you had no idea what he was talking about.
Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes narrowing slightly in mock suspicion, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him. Shaking his head, he let out a quiet laugh, his hand finding your waist as he pulled you closer.
#rafe cameron x thornton!reader#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#drew starkey x reader#obx fanfiction#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x smut#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron smut#outerbanks x you#outerbanks rafe#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#outerbanks x reader#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey fanfiction
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bucky barnes as a husband headcanon!
heavily inspired by my steve headcanons here, I wanna try my hand at writing more of james. he is the epitome of devotion, he falls first and falls hard.
this kind of takes part in an alternative au (think avengers are still together but its post the falcon and the winter soldier)
he is canonically good at cunnilingus
you think I’m joking? This man divulges into a rabid animal the second he gets close to your thighs. He is on his knees whilst your pressed up against the counter rubbing his face against your clothed crotch moaning and grinding in the air
he says if he could have gotten a taste of you while he was the winter soldier it would've required his brain and reversed the brainwashing
’to be alone with you’ - hozier is bucky’s song
like steve, he feels the isolation and ghost-like feeling of being lost in time. Brooklyn doesn't feel like home anymore, he constantly reaches for you, even in sleep because you are the thing he now belongs to.
you can never get used to how intense bucky just..stares at you. Every single moment of the day you'll just catch him watching you silently not saying a word. It wasn't creepy, no it had this protective almost darkness to it that was all consuming. At one of Tony’s parties, he’s watching you across the room with a glass in his hand or mysterious and shit. (probably thinking about when is a polite time to leave)
which is never because bucky just drags you both out of every gathering. Every goodbye is an Irish one
man bun bucky. That’s it.
lets you cut his hair when it gets to the point of covering his eyes. Sometimes his stubble too, thumb circling and grazes your thigh as you lean over him with a scalpel.
most of the team are still gobsmacked at how bucky justs..trusts you. Whether it be with a shaving, or jumping out of a corner. If any of the team tried to pull a knife on bucky he would probably (not) accidentally break their jaw
after missions all the Avengers know he’ll be offline for at least a couple days to be with you. What they don’t discuss is half of those days are fucking you bruised. He gets all pent up and irritated when he isn’t around you, it’s like you recalibrate his mood back to baseline regular bucky when he can finally sink into you.
doll, darlin’, honey
if you think steve is possessive…just exponentiate that to the power of 10 and you have husband bucky. Are we forgetting this man used to be the winter soldier? he's cute and adorable but also can be fucking horrifying. I’m talking blank face breaking a mans jaw cause he looked at you funny
very casual in his superhuman abilities to protect you.
silky dulcet notes of etta james, the album sam had gifted you both playing as you cut up some root vegetables. It’s summer and the night is long and warm, and you and bucky are humming as you prepare dinner. You're twirling your hips, Bucky is leaning against the countertop, half trussing the chicken and the other watching you when he suddenly stops. You don't notice it at first, until he cocks his head to the side, kind of blinks and moves to turn the saucepan on low. You turn to him, and he grabs for one of the kitchen knives on the bench before reaching for you.
"there's someone in the backyard"
all nonchalant, like it had been a burrowing animal stuck under the floorboards. he motions for you to continue, turns up the record player a bit and walks into the backyard without a sound.
this man is touch starved, of course he is cock warming after. each and every time.
one of the things bucky loved about you is at ease he felt, he could talk to you and spill everything out in a way he never could with dr raynor or even steve.
there was a bit of distance from him when he first met you, he was awestruck, even more silent than he usually was. Just stared at you longingly, standing off to the side. he didn’t think he could be anything but feared, it genuinely got to the point where you thought he didn't like you or that you had done something wrong. when steve had told him this, he nearly died. no, i'd like to think he's heart stopped for a couple seconds seriously. than got up from fainting, took you aside, and kissed you against the back of sarah's backyard door on the fourth of july.
stations a few target practice posts in your backyard. teaches you how to shoot, chest pressed up against your back as he helps move your body in the right position. always make sure you know where the weapons are in the house
singing to records whilst he's cleaning said weapons at the table
takes you to all the places still standing he remembers in Brooklyn, you hold his hand and let him rest against your shoulder when the past gets caught in his throat.
Steve finds a place in the city with actual good music, where people actually dance, and it becomes your spot every Friday.
yeah, one thing bucky remembers would be his muscle memory of the dance floor, he’s goooood. Teaches you everything he knows in your kitchen of course, always ends up with you making out on top of each other though
dry humping like teenagers, bucky with his low hanging jeans, not wearing boxes and making a mess just from the taste of your mouth
actually, sometimes breaks down in tears when he realises you’re his wife. Like forever.
always thinking about you, what you're doing, if you've eaten. even if hes in the middle of recon you will be in the back of his mind.
leans over and loops his dog tags around your neck whenever he leaves for missions. kisses your eyelids when your sleeping and the fight calls him
the second time you and bucky visited Wakanda he had Shuri craft the ring to be fused into his vibranium finger..yeah I know.
bucky isn’t the extroverted talking type, but with you he is constantly just yapping..about anything and everything. Following you around the house like a puppy, coming to you for the answers about the new world and questions he always harboured even before the ice
bucky is hilarious, he's already an adonis, but he could laugh you of your pants
can’t bear fighting with you, he never yells. He just kind of goes quiet and takes a walk
you guys live in a house with a huge backyard and a wraparound porch
loves cooking, lets him turn his mind off sometimes and make you something hearty and warm. he has a frilly gingham patterned apron he wears and his curls are wrapped into a bun with your scrunchie. floor always ends up on his cheek, and you always end up on the kitchen bench with his mouth on you
night terrors had him sleeping in a sleeping bag next to the bed, he refused despite your attempts. Sometimes he'd wait till you fell asleep against him and make the heartbreaking quiet separation and sleep on the floor
sometimes likes to take of his arm around the house, especially sleeping. Keeps it near in case though, for you.
he’s thick everywhere…took an hour of foreplay minimum to get you ready for him. You both will never get used to each other, needing to take a moment of hushed gasps and groans when he first sinks in
the wedding was in Sams backyard in Delacroix, just Sam, Sarah, the kids and Yoshi and the team
fairylights wrapped around the spanish moss of hanging trees, soft jazz and hard liquor. Sarah’s seafood boil and a dance floor where bucky spends half the night with you there
dad!bucky on the other hand..now that is a different ballpark. wait no actually, just him when you're both expecting. let's not forgot when he stormed into the tower and broke through the office doors to ask why on earth tony had scheduled him a mission so close to the birth of your baby, tossing him his phone which was now crumbled heap of metal in the shape of his fists....(you were two weeks along)
#neonovember#bucky barnes masterlist#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes headcanons#marvel#avengers x you#bucky barnes x you#husband!bucky#husband!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x angst#bucky barnes domestic#domestic!bucky#fluff#james buchanan barnes x drabble#James buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#James bucky barnes x fem!reader#james bucky barnes x fem!reader#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes x fem!reader#dad!bucky#au#bucky barnes drabble#husband!bucky barnes#domestic avengers
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Dinner with the mobster | Bucky Barnes
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Mob!Single!Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Your boss - who is also the most feared man in town - asks you to go out for dinner with him. When he suggests taking his daughter with him, you agree to go out with them.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 2.295
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (G) none, just fluff
𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> Hi I absolutely love your work. I was wondering if you could write a mob boss! Single dad!Bucky Barnes x reader. Feel free to ignore if it makes you uncomfortable. Thank you 🤎🤎
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for your nice words, they really mean a lot and thank you for the sweet request. I wanted to write more for Mob!Bucky and your request was the perfect opportunity to do so. I hope you like what I made with it.🩷🩷 Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> AFG Fluff Bingo | Row Two-One | First Date | @anyfandomfluffbingo
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
James Buchanan Barnes, the most popular mobster in town, has at least one hundred men who are protecting him and another one hundred men as well as women who clean his house, cook for him, or do other chores. His house - his villa - near the forest is almost not even in town anymore. The man could have every woman, and almost every woman admires him. He has long brown hair, mostly tied into a bun; his beard is trimmed; he has ocean blue eyes; and he has a smile that could light up the darkest night. James has a muscular body, is tall, and is just the dream of every woman. But even though he could have it all, he lives with his daughter alone. But he has an eye on someone, someone who doesn’t look really interested in him, which slightly confuses him but makes her more interesting for the mobster.
“Daddy, look what I found,” his princess says with a proud smile, holding up a book in her hands.
He furrows his eyebrows, his legs spread, while he sits on his couch and waits for the woman he asked to come into his office. In his hand, he holds a glass of his favorite Bourbon while he looks at his daughter. She walks closer to him, pushing herself up to sit on his lap before she holds the book closer to his face. James reads the title on it and smirks.
“That’s the book your friends - my employees - wrote into, isn’t it?” he asks with a smirk.
He told all his closest employees to write into the book after his princess was sad about having just four people - next to her - written into it. Those people were James, Sam, Steve, and Natasha. And then she asked her daddy if he knew if some more who wanted to write into it. Of course she also has friends, but the little girl prefers the big men around her, commanding them around like her daddy does, and he enjoys seeing his well-working education.
“Do you wanna see it?” she asks, kissing her daddy’s cheek softly.
The small girl looks like James - just the smaller, female version - but she has the same brown hair, ocean blue eyes, and the same smirk and pout on her lips as her daddy.
“But just until Y/N is here,” James says, and he turns his daughter around.
With his hands wrapped around her tummy, he looks over her shoulder. Her small back is pressed against his broad chest. Then she opens the book and waits for her daddy to start reading. James does, and his princess is always telling him something about the pictures before he can turn to the next side.
After a few minutes, it knocks at the door, and he looks up to see you standing there, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. You play with your fingers, looking down, while you just stand there and wait for James to give you instructions.
“I- I can- I’m sorry for distracting you,” you mumble when your nervousness grows.
“No, it’s fine. I asked you to come here, so please come in,” he says with his rough voice, and you shiver slightly.
When you met him for the first time, he was scary, and being so close to such a dangerous man can still be scary, but he is all soft and sweet around you and makes you feel like you are special to him. Little do you know you’re special to him, and he would buy the whole town, the moon, or the whole universe for you just to see your smile and hear you laughing while he is the reason for it.
James leans closer to his daughter, kissing her cheek before he lifts her off his lap and places her in front of him.
“Tell Uncle Stevie he has to give you some cookies,” James says, laughing when he sees his daughter jumping around with a giggle before she runs out of the room.
His ocean blue eyes then meet you again, and he gets off the couch as well. James walks closer to the door, gripping the doorknob while he waits for you to walk into the room to close the door behind you. It makes you a bit uncomfortable to be all alone with him in a room, but you know you’re safe.
“Wanna drink something, Bourbon? It’s a good one, my favorite bourbon.”
“N-no, thank you. I- Uhm- I’m fine, really,” you mumble.
You could face palm yourself when you realize what you just said. He didn’t want to know more, just if you wanted to have a drink. You inhale deeply while he leads you to the couch. When the two of you are taking a seat, he smiles and turns his head toward you.
“Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“N-no. I can take care of your daughter when you have plans for tonight.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he laughs softly and takes a sip of his bourbon. “More like, do you have time to go out with me?”
Your mouth drops open, and you swallow hard, rubbing your palms over your pants to dry the sweat.
“I- You’re my boss, James,” you say quietly, turning your head away.
He chuckles softly and slides his hand to your back, stroking it softly while he takes another sip of his bourbon. The shiver along your spine makes him grin even more, and the way your body reacts to his touch lets him admire you even more.
“I’m not asking you, actually. Babydoll, let me take you out, please.”
“I-I don’t want to overstep boundaries. I- James, I should go back to my room,” you mumble.
Bucky chuckles; the way his body vibrates against yours sent another shiver along your spine. His thumb moves closer to your lips before he slides it over them, making you gasp. Your boss is so close, you can feel his hot breath on your skin; his touches are like electricity, causing more goosebumps all over your skin. Bucky leans closer, his lips almost touching your ear, inhaling your scent before he kisses your earlobe.
“How about we take Mia with us? You love her, and she loves you.”
None of the two of you mentioned that there are feelings between you and Bucky. You nod softly, but he sees it and smiles, kissing your earlobe again. Then he pulls away.
“I will pick you up in an hour,” he says, getting up, and you follow.
The two of you walk to the door. He opens it and runs his fingers over your back before you walk out of the room and to yours to change into something better to go out with your boss.
Like he told you, he is knocking at your door an hour later, wearing a suit - like always - his cologne all around you, and you smile softly when you look into his beautiful face. His brown hair is tied back, and he holds the tiny hand of his daughter. She is smiling at you as well as her daddy, both admiring you in your dress. Bucky in another way as the girl, but they both can’t get their eyes off of you. Bucky clears his throat and takes a step to the side, letting you walk out of the room.
“You look beautiful, doll.”
You blush, scratching the back of your neck.
“Daddy said we gonna go to my favorite restaurant,” she tells you with a proud smile.
You’re still not pretty sure what to say or how to act since your boss has invited you to go out with him. So you smile nicely and walk with him and Mia to the cars in the garage.
Bucky is a gentleman, opening the door for you, making sure you’re comfortable, but always taking care of his daughter too.
When you arrive at the restaurant, he takes your hand in his, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. He makes sure you’re comfortable; otherwise, he would immediately let go of your hand. But there is not even a hint of discomfort on your face, just a small smile on your lips. Together with you and Mia, he walks to the entrance, letting the two of you walk into it before he follows you.
“Good evening,” the waiter says, his muscles tensing when he sees Bucky.
“Good evening, a table for three by the name of Barnes.”
The man in front of Bucky nods and shows you the table. You’re helping Mia out of her jacket and talking to her while you walk through the restaurant. The eyes of the people widen when they see James walking with his daughter and a woman through the room. He smirks when he offers you a seat, takes your and Mia’s jackets out of your hands, and sits across from you, smiling widely with his steel blue eyes piercing into yours. His tattoo-covered arms rest with the sleeves slightly up and his arms on the table, and he just admires you while you look between Mia and him with a small smile.
“Good evening. Have you already decided what you like to eat?” a woman asks, her smile shy, and her eyes dart from Bucky to you and back to the muscular man.
“As always, for my daughter and for me,” he says, then turns his face to you and smiles softly. “And you, doll?”
A shiver rushes through your body, and butterflies go crazy in your belly when he calls you by that nickname in front of other people. Then you look at the waitress and order your food as well. She just nods, takes the menus, and walks back to the kitchen.
“Y/N?” Mia asks, her hand touching yours.
“Yes?”
“Do you like daddy?”
You almost choke on your own saliva when she asks that. Of course you do; who doesn’t? He is a gentle and soft man; he is beautiful, muscular, and makes you laugh. You feel safe with him, not just because there are always some of his men around, but just because of him. On the other hand, he doesn’t act in a soft way with others like you always thought, which makes the feelings you have for him stronger. Bucky doesn’t say anything to the question; he just smirks and waits for you to answer, wanting to know what you think about him.
“I-I- He is nice, but he is my boss,” you mumble.
“But you like him?”
“Yes, but I like you too, Mia.”
“So do you want to be my new mommy?”
This question caught you off guard, and your jaw drops immediately. Bucky chuckles are low and rough, causing your skin to tingle. He makes you feel things you never thought you would feel, especially not for him. The most fearful man in town, a mobster. But also your boss, a wonderful and sweet man and daddy of a beautiful and cute daughter.
“Say yes, and I’m gonna make you mine tonight,” he says.
Your breath hitches, your body shakes softly in anticipation, and you nod. Do you want it? Want to be his? Of course, you definitely want to be his.
“Y-yes.”
Mia smirks, ready to throw herself around your neck, but the food arrives at your table and she learned manners from her daddy, so she just squirms a bit in her seat but starts eating and smirks the whole time at you. Your cheeks are red, and you fix the plate with food in front of you instead of facing Bucky. What if he just wanted to know what you feel for him, but he just wants to play with you? But he is just so soft with you and not with any other woman around him.
“Doll?” his rough voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look at him. “Please let me make you mine. I know the way you look at me, and you’re the only woman I want to have. I have loved you since we first met.”
“O-Oke. B-But I can’t work for you then. H-How can I pay for my things?”
“You don’t have to pay anything. Don’t forget who you’re talking to; you will get everything you need, and you just need to ask me,” he tells you with the softest smile you have ever seen.
When you nod again, his eyes light up, and he can’t help but get up to walk around the table. He gets on his knees next to you, capturing your cheeks with his big hands before he leans closer and presses his soft, plumb lips on yours. Kissing you in a way no one has ever kissed you before, so filled with love and passion. When you kiss him back, he smirks, pulling you even closer, and your hands grip his shoulder, your fingers sliding along his neck. Mia cheers quietly, giggling and looking at the two of you in awe while he bits into her nugget. You blush when Bucky leans back, his thumb stroking your lips, and his blue eyes say more than words could ever say.
“I love you, doll. My precious doll.”
“I-I love you, too.”
“Andddddd I love you. And my nuggies,” Mia says, holding her nugget up to show it.
“Yeah. We love you too, little girl,” Bucky laughs and kisses you again, then he gets up and takes his seat again to finish eating.
Your cheeks are still red, especially when you recognize that everyone in the restaurant was looking at the two of you. But when you look at Bucky, every fear fades away, and you feel just loved by him.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry
#marvel#mcu#marvel mcu#bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky x reader#mob!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes x reader#james barnes x y/n#james barnes x you#james barnes x reader#bucky x fem reader#bucky x female yn#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x yn#bucky x reader fluff#bucky x reader fanfiction
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Lasagna Casserole: A Harry Styles AU One Shot✨
Masterlist: Here
Pairing: Killer!Harry x Wife!Reader
TW: Harry is a serial killer(yeah you read that correctly), mentions of blood, handling of a body after death.
A/N: This is random as hell and honestly it’s not even that dark minus the fact Harry does kill people BUT you’ll never really see how, but I get it if this isn’t your thing. I just had to get it out of my brain to make room for other stuff.
Summary: You call your husband Harry while he’s working because you don’t know what to bring to your company potluck, enjoy you having no clue what your man really does for work and Harry not hesitating to answer your call no matter how busy he is✨
“Really?” Harry shoots his coworker and longtime friend Mitch a glare as he spots his long brown hair falling around his face as the two of them look at the body in the trunk of a rental car. “You don’t have a hair tie? You’re going to leave hair follicles all over the body and we aren’t exactly supposed to even know who the fuck this man is.” He snaps making Mitch let out a huff as he pulls out a scrunchie from his back pocket so he can quickly put his hair in a low bun.
“Hair follicles? You’ve been watching that show again haven’t you?” Mitch asks as he grabs his bag from the trunk and slings the strap over his shoulder.
“It’s called forensic files and it’s a good show.” Harry says with a shrug as he grabs his duffle bag before closing the trunk. “You could learn a thing or two actually because did you know they can get DNA from inside someone’s teeth? Like not just dental records and all that. Like if you don’t do a proper job at pulling them out they can somehow get like the pulp or some-”
“Are you saying I don’t do a good job?” Mitch tilts his head to the side as he looks at Harry who just shakes his head and reaches over and gives his friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“You kidding? You’re an artist with a pair of pliers in your hand.” Harry watches as a small smile appears on his face as the two of them begin making their way towards a familiar section of woods near the end of the deserted parking lot. “But the show teaches you a lot of weird mistakes other people have made like really you’d be shocked at some of the odd shit people do when killing someone.” This makes Mitch raise an eyebrow as he digs around in his bag for a flashlight, he pushes the on button to make sure it works and nods in approval to himself when it turns on without any issue.
“Like what?” He asks as he turns the flashlight off before handing it to Harry who puts it in his duffle bag, Mitch is always in charge of making sure the two of them have their kits properly stocked for after the job is done. While Harry is more so in charge of making sure they have everything they could possibly need to get the job done however the two of them see fit, it always depends on their mood and who the person is as to how they go about handling it but both of them usually prefer to be as clean and quick as possible.
“Biting.” Harry states as he grabs the gloves Mitch hands to him, he catches the look of disgust flash across his friend’s face and he just nods in agreement. “Yeah I know. It’s like a thing though apparently? It’s been a major factor on a few episodes on how the killers get caught because they leave their bite marks on their victims.” He explains as he slips the gloves into his front pocket so he’ll be able to reach them quicker a little later on when it comes time to take the man out of the trunk.
“Fucking weirdos.” Mitch mumbles as he leads the way down to the trail the two of them have used quite a few times since they found it over a year ago.
“Another thing is footwear.” Harry says with a huff as he adjusts his duffle bag on his shoulder. “The things these people can do to trace your shoes back to you is a little concerning but also very neat.” Mitch lets out a chuckle as Harry continues to talk about the odd things that could potentially get a murderer caught.
“Do I need different shoes?” Mitch asks as they begin to get a little deeper into the woods using the trail.
“No your shoes are fine but just know they can be traced back to you.”
“Like to me specifically or just to where I bought them?”
“To you. I watched them go from making an impression of someone’s shoe to them finding the store and from there finding the owner of the damn shoe.”
“Jesus. Well I can’t just be out here barefoot.”
“Well no shit.”
“So what should I do Mr. Forensic Files?”
“I’m not saying you need to do anything just be aware-” Harry stops his rant making Mitch turn and look at him and that’s when he notices Harry has also stopped walking, Mitch opens his mouth to say something but Harry is quick to hold a finger up as he grabs his phone out of his back pocket allowing the faint buzzing sound to be heard since Harry was smart enough to turn the ringer off but made sure he’d still know if you called or texted him. A smile takes over his face when he sees your name flashing on the screen, Mitch rolls his eyes as he watches Harry slide his thumb across the screen so he can answer the call.
“Hey baby.” Harry says sweetly into the phone as he gives Mitch a look that tells him to continue walking, Harry hears you let out a sigh of relief as the two of them continue down the unused bike trail just outside the cities largest cemetery, it’s a rather nice trail but Harry understands why it’s untouched seeing as not many people enjoy an afternoon or evening ride so close to a few hundred people’s final resting place.
“Oh thank god you answered.” Your voice is full of panic as you run a hand through your hair while standing in the middle of your kitchen.
“S’everything alright love?” He asks as Mitch walks a bit ahead of him so he can start the process of finding where exactly the man they just took care of is going to go and if he’s going to need to dig multiple holes or not. “What’s got you all worked up?” Harry adjusts the strap of his duffle bag on his shoulder as he hears the sound of pages being turned quite harshly and quickly so he can only assume you’re in the kitchen because when he looks down at his watch on his right hand it’s not even half past five so there’s no way you’re already in bed reading your romance novel you keep tucked away in your nightstand.
Now Harry wouldn’t say he knows exactly what you’re doing at every hour of the day but he would say he has a faint idea of what you could possibly be up to, but he blames that on his job because he can’t exactly not know your whereabouts when he’s out dealing with people in an unsavory way. He needs to at least have a roundabout time frame of when you’re going to be gone at work, or off to the shops with the girls or his favorite is when you go off with his mom and sister for the day because that means he doesn’t have to rush or be worried he will run into you while discarding a body in the woods or a nearby park. The one thing Harry prides himself on is that he won’t ever have to worry about coming home covered in someone else’s blood and scaring the absolute daylights out of you. Since meeting you he refuses to ever even give you the opportunity to accidentally see anything you shouldn’t so he always just showers and takes care of his dirty clothes at a hotel and a dry cleaners he’s been using for years that if you slide them extra cash don’t ask questions about all the odd red stains on his dress shirts.
“I don’t know what to make for my work’s potluck tomorrow and I’m just a bit panicked because you know Regina is going to make those brownies that everyone dies for and I just-I want to make something good.” The words leave your mouth in a rush but Harry is used to your rants, having been married to you for three years but dated you for two before hand, he’s no stranger to you putting these sort of things off till the last minute then getting yourself worked up and stressed over it until you finally cave and ask him for help because that’s the other thing, you won’t ask him for help until you absolutely need to.
Harry looks at Mitch who is eyeing a decent sized area of land that Harry knows for a fact neither of them have hidden anyone else in, so when Mitch looks over at Harry with a raised brow he just holds a finger up making the long haired man let out a sigh as he places his hands on his hips. The thing is Mitch can’t even really get that annoyed with Harry in this situation because he knows how much the man truly loves and adores his wife, he’s seen him put a pause on slicing someone’s throat once just because you called and then there was the time Harry nearly set the whole house on fire instead of just the man’s car they had just paid a visit to because he was distracted by your multiple drunk texts during a girls night out back when the two of you were just dating and wasn’t looking where the lighter fluid was spilling before he lit the match. So this isn’t anything new to Mitch, standing aside and letting Harry take a few minutes to talk to you during a work night, he knows you have no clue what you’re even calling in the middle of and honestly sometimes both men need the distraction of your randomly timed calls or texts.
“Tell me your options baby and I’ll help you pick the one I think your coworkers will like the most.” Harry quickly takes the phone away from his ear and hits the mute button before he hits the speaker button so he will be able to hear you but you won’t be able to hear him. “Think he’ll fit in this spot in one piece?” Harry asks making Mitch take a harder look at the area before looking back at Harry.
“Yeah he’s a small dude he’ll fit here just fine.” Mitch answers making Harry smile because he hates cutting people up it’s way too bloody for his taste and he just got these boots as a random gift from you a few days ago and he’d hate to get them bloodied so soon because Mitch does a lot of things but dismemberment has always been a hard no for him leaving the task to Harry.
“I can do lasagna casserole? Or tuna casserole? People love a good tuna casserole.” Your voice brings Harry’s attention back to you as Mitch drops his bag down and opens it up so he can look for his shovel. Harry unmutes you and puts you off speaker as he brings the phone back up to his ear.
“There’s no such thing as a good tuna casserole my love.” Harry laughs when he hears you let out a scoff and he can practically picture you with your hand on your chest making a dramatic face as if he just insulted you in the worst way imaginable.
“I must’ve called the wrong number because my husband loves my tuna casserole. He’s told me so on several occasions.” You move the hand that was clutching your chest down to your hip as you try to hold back a laugh because you know very well that Harry tells you he loves everything you cook, even when the bottom of the pie is burnt or the rice is overdone he looks at you with a warm smile and tells you how delicious it is.
“I think it’s more so that your husband just loves you sweetheart. That’s all.” He explains making you smile against the phone.
“You really don’t like my tuna casserole?” Your voice is softer now and Harry feels a twinge of guilt hit his chest but he just brushes it off because the truth is always best, or at least in situations like these.
“I’m sorry baby but it’s not my favorite.” He figures avoiding telling you the words he doesn’t like it will help you not be too upset because the last thing he wants to do right now if make you upset when he’s currently in the middle of the woods near a cemetery with his bestfriend digging a grave for a man they have in a trunk of a car. “But the lasagna casserole sounds lovely.” He quickly adds as he drops his duffle bag next to Mitch’s and looks down at the watch on his wrist so he can try to give you a decent estimate on when he’ll be home when you ask, because he knows you’re going to ask eventually.
“Yeah? I’m not sure. I’ve made something similar once and Todd told me it was bland and a bit dry but he just-”
“Todd? Who’s that sweetheart? Haven’t mentioned him before is he new?” Mitch quirks a brow at Harry’s questions because he knows that tone. It’s the one Harry uses when he is trying to cover up the anger that’s starting to simmer deep down inside of him but Mitch just doesn’t understand what would make the man angry over a discussion about casseroles for a company potluck.
“He started in my department last year I think you met him at the Christmas party? Remember he was the one who asked about your tattoos and if-”
“The twat who tried to get you under the mistletoe before I showed up is Todd?” Harry doesn’t mean to let his voice get as loud as it does and he really didn’t mean to let the insult slip out because he knows you don’t like that kind of talk but you just ignore it because you know how your husband gets when you mention people who have been slightly rude to you, especially men. He’s always been a bit protective of you and it’s something you’ve grown to love about him even if it did take some getting used to in the beginning because well, Harry can be very intimidating when he wants to be and sometimes when he’s not even trying.
“That’s what happens when you show up late to things Harry. People try to smooch your wife.” Harry rolls his eyes as he runs his free hand through his hair, he knows you’re joking to try to lighten his mood but he also knows you’re well aware of how slightly possessive he is of you even though he does try his very hardest to keep it under wraps but he doesn’t take things like other people trying to put the moves on you very lightly.
“I just think Todd could do with a few lessons on proper manners that’s all love.” Mitch gives Harry a look as he pauses his digging and Harry just ignores him as turns so he’s facing away from Mitch. “So what’s the verdict hmm? Lasagna or tuna casserole?” He doesn’t want to seem like he’s rushing you but the sooner he’s off the phone with you the sooner the hole gets dug and the body is in the ground the sooner he’s on his way back home to you.
“Lasagna.” You answer as you flip to the page for the recipe in your cookbook. “When will you be home? I miss you.” You ask with a slight pout because Harry was gone when you woke up this morning and only stopped by on his lunch break to see you for a bit before he was rushing off again to go meet Mitch. Harry can’t help but find himself smiling at the sound of your little pouty whine telling him you miss him because he knows that just means you’ll be extra clingy when he gets home and to be honest he quite likes it when you’re in your clingy cuddly mood because it helps him relax after dealing with all the stress of what he’s had to do during the day.
“I’ll be home by the time you’re ready for your evening bath my love so make sure you put in one of those little bubble things I like okay? The one that makes you all soft and smells like vanilla.” He can hear you smile over the phone and it makes him grin, he loves being able to make you smile even when he’s not around. “I’ve got to go now baby but I love you okay? Keep me updated on the casserole and please be careful with the oven? Don’t want you burning yourself.” He says with a smile as he hears you giggle through the phone when he tells you to be careful with the oven.
“I love you too and I’ll send you a photo when it’s done and if you’re good maybe I’ll let you try some when you get home.” Harry laughs and just nods his head and tells you goodbye and that he loves you one more time before hanging up and putting his phone back in his pocket.
“We aren’t killing Todd.” Is all Mitch says as Harry turns around and he just rolls his eyes when he sees Mitch doesn’t even bother looking at him from where he’s at still working on the hole for the man in the trunk. “We have rules Harry. We don’t kill people we know or anyone that people we care about might know.” He adds as if he can hear inside Harry’s mind at how he was about to stupidly ask why they couldn’t just get rid of Todd.
“Every rule has an exception.” Harry argues as he bends down to open his duffle bag so he can grab his shovel and begin helping Mitch dig the hole.
“The answer is still no.” Mitch fires back making Harry suddenly stop digging as he gets a playful smirk on his face causing Mitch to pause his movements and quirk a brow at him.
“You said we can’t kill him.” Harry states mater of factly making Mitch just slowly nod, he already has a feeling he knows where this is going and he’s not going to like it. “But we can beat the shit out of him right?” Mitch can’t help but laugh and shake his head as he looks down at the ground because of course Harry is going to find a loophole, hell Mitch would too if it was his wife that got hit on and told her casserole wasn’t good so he can’t blame him.
“Sure Harry we can beat him up but just make sure you don’t accidentally kill him okay?”
“Oh come on that was one time you’ve got to let it go.”
#harry styles au#harry styles fanfiction#dark!harry#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x wife!reader#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x you#harry styles and Mitch Rowland#harry styles concept#husband!harry#my little lanky baby#harry styles#one direction fanfiction
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Neighbours.
~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky’s moved next door to you and your children, your children wants to play matchmaker.
Word count: 7,322
Warnings: fluff. angst (only a tiny bit though) children being adorable. reader nearly takes her finger off/blood. mention of a dead beat dad. Bucky being the cutest. Alpine being the cutest. swearing. mention of health insurance problems? I’m British so if I’ve gotten it wrong just…leave me alone. small mention of financial issues/being in debt.
Masterlist
Opening the door to the apartment you shut it again, opening slowly before repeating the action a few more times, sighing in defeat that nothing had changed you took in the sight of the once cleaned apartment that now looked like a bomb had hit it.
Toys laid out on the floor, your daughters toy prams laying on their sides with the baby dolls hanging out of them, legos scattered around, broken crayons laid amongst the chaos.
“Kids?” You called out as you removed your coat.
“Oh…hi Y/n the kids are next door” Poppy your kid’s babysitter says as she pops her head around the corner.
“With Ms Hopewell?”
“Um no the new guy”.
Your heart stopped. The apartment next door had been empty since you and the kids moved in to your apartment two years ago, hearing that there was now a tenant living there didn’t bother you what bothered you was that it was a man who was alone with your children whilst the babysitter was-
“What was that?”
“They, um their next door” Poppy replies quickly.
“No I got that bit but what I want to know is who just coughed?”
“I-it’s my boyfriend-“
Oh your day just kept getting better and better.
“Get out. Your sacked”
“B-but Y-“
“No. Tell him to put his shirt on and I want you both to leave my home. Now”
The regret of not listening to Marina the mum of your daughters friend who had warned you not to hire the sixteen year old babysitter was hitting full force but at the time you was desperate and in need of a babysitter so you could work. Now you felt foolish that you gave her the benefit of the doubt, just for her to think it was acceptable to bring her boyfriend who you did not know into your home and to allow your children to be next door with a complete stranger.
Not listening to Poppy’s excuses you told her one more time to leave as you went next door where you could now hear your children’s cheerful voices.
The front door to the apartment was open, calling out for your kids where you heard them running towards you.
“Momma”
“What the hell do you think you two are doing? How many times have I told you not to talk to strangers.” You scolded despite seeing them okay and well.
“Mr Bucky isn’t a stranger momma” Cora your daughter says sheepishly.
“Mama” Jasper your son - the youngest out of the two - laughs as he pulls on your shirt.
Before you could reply to either child you hear soft footsteps coming towards you.
“I’m sorry Ma’am-“
“You can’t just let strange kids into your home-“
You cut yourself off when you look up. Not expecting a six foot, built like a brick wall yet looked soft oddly enough man. His bright blue eyes shined through the dimmed hallway, brown hair long enough to be pulled up in a bun that sat low on the back of his head, with a few strands of wavy hair framing his handsome face.
“Momma Mr Bucky has a black arm and it’s cold!” Cora giggled pointing at her left arm.
“Cora!” You scolded, apology on the tip of your tongue before this Mr Bucky laughed.
“It’s true, I do have a black arm” And that’s when you notice it.
“Momma guess how he lost it? Guess, momma guess” Cora jumped around on the spot causing Jasper to do the same.
“I-umm I’m not sure sweetie”
“He didn’t eat his veggies and his arm fell off!” She laughed “he told me and Jaspy that we have to eat all our veggies so it don’t happen to us” her eyes widened comically.
Looking up at the man who you assumed the worst of as he stood there with his arms crossed and a huge grin on his lips making his eyes crinkle.
“It’s true ma’am”
“Mama kitty” Jasper tugs on your shirt again, taking your eyes away from the man to your son who was pointing at a ball of white fluff as it came trotting over “name kitty mama”
“Her names Alpine-“ Cora tries to correct.
“No name kitty” Jasper pouts causing you and the man to laugh.
“You’re very right, her names kitty” he smiles softly. “By the way I’m James, well everyone calls me Bucky” He holds his right hand out for you to shake.
You tried to ignore the way his hand was warm, calloused yet soft, shaking his hand. “I’m Y/n”.
“It’s nice to meet you. And listen I’m really sorry that I had your kids in here, um they were outside in the hallway-“
“Excuse me?”
“T-they were outside” he points behind you “I had just came back from the store when I saw them, um Cora said that Poppy had a boy inside and they were told to play in the hallway” He winces as he scratches the back of his neck.
“It’s true momma. They were kissing” you grimaced and the anger you felt for your now former babysitter increased.
“Cora said you was at work and at the time I didn’t see the harm in letting them in to my apartment b-but now I see I did the wro-“
“No no no, I-thank you.” You cut him off, feeling slightly ashamed for overreacting.
“It’s okay, they’re great kids.”
“Thank you, I best get them back so I can feed them. I’m sorry if they caused any problems for you” you smiled, finally stand whilst picking Jasper up and placing him on your hip.
“They didn’t cause any problems, don’t worry. Bye Mr Jasper bye Miss Cora”
“Bye bye Mr Bucky and Miss Alpine” Cora waves already leaving.
Jasper just waves, his thumb sliding into his mouth.
“Bye Bucky”
“Bye, oh um Y/n… I would wash the bedding, the bedroom closest to this wall if I was you” He says grimacing as he knocks on the wall to his left.
Your bedroom.
“Great. Just great, thanks for the tip”. Giving him a tight lip smile you give him an awkward wave and walk back into your home.
“I-I’m sorry Y/n please just give me another chance” Poppy begs.
“Absolutely not. Now I want you to leave”
“But I need this job Y/n please”
“You told my children, the same children I pay you to look after, to go and play in the hallway so you could have sex in my bed! Oh don’t look so shocked, I found the used condom on my floor - thanks for that. Now don’t come back”
“Wi-will you give me a referen-“ You slammed the door in her face.
The audacity of this girl.
“Mama kitty” Jasper catches your attention and sure enough there’s Alpine walking around in a circle around your two year old.
“How did she get in here?” All you got in response was Jasper sticking his tongue out out you. “Let’s get her back home yeah?”
Now here came the tricky part, did you pick her up? Or just open the door and pray to a higher power that she didn’t run off?
You really hoped that she wouldn’t run off as the thought of chasing after a cat exhausted you but picking up the cat wasn’t your fan favourite either, from thirteen years old you’ve had a fear of touching cats after the neighbours tabby dug his claws into your skin and clung on for dear life.
“Okay bubba I need you not to move, I’ll be right back okay” great parenting leaving a two year old home alone, you scold yourself. Running out of the door and rapidly knocking on Bucky’s.
“Hey, Y/n are you okay?”
“Alpines in my apartment and I’m scared to touch cats so… come get her”
“Shit. I’m sorry I don’t know how I missed her getting out-wait did you just say you’re scared to touch them?”
Rolling your eyes as he chuckles “don’t laugh it’s a real phobia”
That has him practically crying. “So you’re afraid of cats?”
“No, I just don’t like touching them unless they’re asleep-stop laughing!”
“I’m sorry doll- hi Mr Jasper, come on missy you’re scaring our neighbour” he laughs as he bends down to pick up the cotton ball of fluff.
“I’m not scared of her!”
“Whatever you say doll, whatever you say”
“It’s-“
“A real phobia I know” winking at you “where’s Miss Cora?”
“At her friends for a sleepover so it’s just me and little man tonight” even though your daughter is two blocks away, you couldn’t help but miss her and mainly worry despite knowing she’s safe.
“That sounds like fun, I’ll see you”
And just as he’s about to cross over the threshold Jasper interrupts him. “Kitty stay”
“No baby kitty has to go home now”
“No kitty stay mama”
“Not tonight baby”
Here comes the waterworks in 3…2…1…
Jasper burst into a fit of tears, throwing himself backwards kicking his little arms and legs out.
“Kitty stay” he stutters, it breaks your heart hearing him cry like that.
“Ma-maybe if it’s okay with you Alpine can stay for a bit? I don’t mind honestly and she’s great with kids” Bucky offers and at his words Jaspers tears start to cease.
“Yeah umm yeah that’s okay with me” you say smiling lightly at Bucky.
“Behave missy” he tells the cat who’s trying to jump out of his arms, and once she’s free she runs over to Jasper rubbing herself all over him that he starts giggle at her fur tickling him.
“Once he’s asleep just knock on the wall and I’ll come and get her-“
“Stay” you blurt out instantly feeling the heat warm your cheeks ��th-that’s if you don’t have anything better to-“
“I would love to” he smiles.
And so Bucky and Alpine join you and Jasper for dinner and some cartoons.
You was sitting next to Bucky on the couch when he taps your shoulder and nods his head in the direction of Jasper and Alpine, you couldn’t help but take your phone out and taking a picture of the two cuddled up together, fast asleep.
Months had passed before you had even realised. Bucky and Alpine spent most of their days now at your apartment, which you couldn’t complain as you now had another adult to talk to.
You had just left to go and get something from the store leaving Bucky alone with the kids. Jasper was playing with his toys with Alpine whilst Bucky and Cora was sat on the couch together.
Everything was good until.
“Momma doesn’t have a boyfriend” Cora told Bucky causing him to choke on his drink.
“Oh…”
“Do you want to be momma’s boyfriend?”
“I erm I’m not sure why?”
“Momma will make you happy, she makes me and Jaspy happy and she makes us dino nuggies for dinner and she reads us bedtime stories and makes sure there’s no monsters under the bed”
“Really?”
“Yep she would do that for you too if you was her boyfriend” the six year old put her hand on Bucky’s left arm as she told him.
“I’m not sure Cora…”
“Why not? Do you not like my momma?”
“I do sweetheart but it’s just a little bit more complicated than that”
“Momma said she likes you, I asked her. You can make her happy and she’ll make you happy. I don’t want momma to cry anymore”
“What do you mean?”
“She cries at night when she’s in bed but she doesn’t know that I know. If you be her boyfriend she won’t cry anymore”
Bucky knows Y/n cries at night, due to his enhanced hearing he can hear her. It pains him to hear her sobs until she’s eventually cried herself to sleep.
The knowledge that Cora knows it happens too makes his heart hurt. She’s six years old and all she wants is her momma to be happy even going as far to ask him - the ex brainwashed assassin who’s over a hundred years old - for help.
And the way she’s looking at him doesn’t help.
“So… will you think about it?” Cora asks when she doesn’t receive a response.
“Yeah I’ll think about it”
Five minutes go by.
“Have you thought about it?”
“Not yet”
“Okay”
Another five minutes go by.
“Now?”
“Still thinking Cora”
Jumping up from the couch when he hears the door come open he jogs over to help you with the shopping.
“Hey, thanks you’re a lifesaver” sighing in relief as the bags are released from your arms.
“No problem”
“Did they behave?”
“Yeah, well apart from Miss Cora” he winks at Cora as she comes over.
“No momma it was Mr Bucky that was naughty”
“Why what did he do?”
“He ate all the cookies and didn’t let me have one” she pouts.
You had to stifle the laugh from coming out as Bucky’s eyes widen and jaw dropped open, gasping dramatically at the claims.
“Y/n it was the other way round! I swear”
“No it wasn’t momma I have witnesses” holding her one finger up to you she runs back into the living room to get the witnesses. Bucky stands there with his arms crossed and lightly tapping his foot.
“They saw it happen” laying her dolls down on the counter she looks at you then at Bucky with a smug smile.
“Y/n whatever they say it’s a lie!”
That time you couldn’t hold the laughter in any more.
“You two…” shaking your head.
Seeing a grown man arguing with a six year old and her toys about them being liars makes you laugh even more.
Later that evening Cora says goodnight to Bucky and Alpine, you hear her ask him “have you thought about it now?” Causing your eyebrows to furrow.
Walking him to the door you ask “what was Cory talking about before she went to bed?”
“Oh nothing doll, see you tomorrow”.
You was in the kitchen cooking dinner when the knock at the door had Cora running straight towards it.
“Hi Mr Bucky hi Alpine”
“Hello Miss Cora”
“I’m a princess today”
“I see, hi Princess Cora” he chuckled.
“Hello, would you like to come into my castle?”
“Yes please, thank you”
Their footsteps got closer towards you, turning round you saw Alpine run past jumping straight on to the couch where Jasper was sitting.
“Momma Mr Bucky’s here” she told you before going back to the living room.
“Hi Bucky”
“Hey, so Cora’s a princess today then?”
“Yep. That’s her fourth dress change since she came home from school”
Chuckling as he sits down on the stool he watches you move around the small kitchen. “Do you need any help?”
“Oh no I’m fine, how was work?” You asked.
“It was fine just the usual, Sam being a pain in my backside”
“Fair enough” you laughed “hey um Bucky I need to ask a huge favour, you can say no okay so don’t fee-“
“Doll ask me”
“Remember you can say no, okay? But I have to work tomorrow as someone’s off ill and it’s Saturday so I was wondering if it’s no issue for you to look after the kids for me?”
He doesn’t even think about his answer as he answers “of course, just tell me when I should come over”
“Really? Oh Bucky you’re a lifesaver, I’ll have to pay you next week if that’s okay?”
“No absolutely not Y/n, I’m not going to take money off you”
“But I can’t ask you to look after them for free”
“Your not, I’m not taking money off you doll and that’s final”
He gets up off the stool and moves into the living room, you hear him tell the kids that they’ll be spending the day with him and the kids cheering.
Ever since you sacked Poppy you’ve been struggling, luckily your boss has been understanding that you need to work certain hours however the hours you now work is way less then what you use to, tomorrow will be the day you work longer that five hours.
Ms Hopewell from next door normally looks after Jasper but since it was the weekend she didn’t need to, plus her daughter was taking her out for the day-
“Shit-fuck goddamnit!” So lost in your thoughts you didn’t realise how close the knife was to your finger that was until you felt the sharp pain and warm sensation of blood trickling down your hand.
“Shi-shoot Y/n are you okay?” Bucky comes running over stopping when he see the blood.
“I’m fine-is it suppose to hurt this much? It really hurts”
“Doll we need to get you to the hospital”
“No, no it’s fine I’ll put a plaster on it-can you hand me the first aid kit from the cabinet”
“Y/n you need stitches-“ He attempts
“I can’t. I don’t have insurance anymore” you mutter.
“What?”
“The kids have but I had to give mine up so I could have insurance for Jasper. I can’t afford to pay the hospital bill Bucky”
You’ve never been ashamed of the fact that you couldn’t afford treatment for yourself it was just one of those things, your kids or you - it was an easy choice. There’s only ever been one time that you slightly regretted that decision and that’s when you broke your ankle just before you moved into the apartment, it had healed fully after nearly a year of being broken and the only time it affects you is in the winter or when you stood up to fast.
You knew he was right about needing to get stitches as you was pretty sure you could see the bone - you couldn’t - but you couldn’t help the shame that crept into your veins admitting it to Bucky that you couldn’t afford to pay for said stitches. The thought of getting another letter with big bold red letters telling you that you was in debt made your heart pang with fear.
Despite the pain in your finger and the cramp that was starting to seep into your hand you was still not going to go to the hospital.
“I’ll pay for it doll. Come on let’s get it sor-“
“No absolutely not. I’m not your charity case Bucky, just pass the first aid kit over and I’ll put a plaster on” You snapped. Instantly regretting it when you see Bucky’s eyes go sad.
“I’m not saying you are Y/n but a plaster isn’t going to do anything doll, I honestly don’t mind paying please just… just let me help you out”
“I can’t Bucky okay, I just can’t ask you to do that for me.”
“Okay. Okay how about I take you to my work place we have a doct-“
“What part of I can’t afford it don’t you understand?”
“She’ll do it for free! If you could stop interrupting me for one second. Dr Cho will do it and she won’t charge I promise.”
Nibbling on your lip as blood splashed down the counter you started to shake your head.
“I can ring her now and ask her to come here if you want?”
“I-will she?”
“Of course give me a minute” he steps away to ring the doctor. “She’s on her way” he comes closer and helps you wrap your hand in the tea towel.
“Bucky, I’m really sorry for snapping I-“
“Y/n it’s fine okay. Cho’s on her way she’s nice and she’ll fix your finger”
“Momma what happened?” Cora goes pale at the sight of blood.
“Momma had a bit of an accident Princess Cora, can you go back to Mr Jasper and Alpine for me?” Bucky says before you had the chance.
“Okay but is momma okay?”
“Yes sweetheart she is, don’t worry”
Cora looks at you waiting for confirmation and when she gets a smile and a nod she runs back to her brother and Alpine.
“Thank you Buck-shit it’s really stinging”
“I know, she should be her-“ the knock at the door cuts him off, just before he walks off he kisses you on your forehead.
Hearing him talk to the doctor your fingers lightly grazed the part where he had kissed, a small shy smile made its way on your lips.
“Cho this is Y/n, Y/n this is Cho”
“Hi it’s a pleasure to meet you, James said that you’ve injured your finger?”
“Hi, and yeah I-I wasn’t looking at what I was doing and sliced myself” awkwardly lifting your hand up that now had dry blood on your arm.
“Hi Miss who are you?” Cora comes over with her hand on her hip.
“Hello I’m Helen”
“Hello Helen I’m Princess Cora, that’s momma, Mr Bucky and over there is Jasper and Alpine”
Helen curtsy’s at Cora making the six year old giggle “It’s nice to meet your family Princess Cora”
The implication that Bucky was apart of your family didn’t slip your notice and by the look of Bucky’s face it didn’t him either, neither one of you said anything to correct her though.
Cora walks off once again and Helen turns her attention back to you, unwrapping the towel she turned to Bucky telling him what she needed out of her medical bag.
With him distracted you looked at Helen “I-I can’t pay you so it’s okay just to put a plaster on it, it’ll be fine in a few days”
“Don’t be silly I’m not charging you” she says softly. “Thank you James, Y/n this might hurt but I’ll try and be as gentle as I can”
It was weird because it hurt until Bucky held your other hand. Strange.
“All done, if it’s easier for you I’ll come back here in a few weeks to remove the stitches”
You thank her once again as Bucky walks her to the door.
“You okay?”
“Yeah I’m okay. Bucky I really am so-“
His lips cut you off. Said lips being attached to yours.
“Stop apologising, it’s my turn now - Y/n I’m really sorry for that” he says once he’s pulled away.
“Did you not like it? Was it bad?” You panic, it was your first kiss in over two years to you it was magical but not to him as he apologising.
“God no doll, to both questions. It’s just I should have asked first-why are you smiling like that?”
“C-can I have another one?”
Bucky chuckles just as his lips gently touch yours again.
A week after nearly chopping your finger off and having not one, not two but three kisses with Bucky, he knocked on the door and let himself in like you told him to do.
“Hi Buck”
“Hey doll, where’s my two favourite people in the world at?” Pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Jaspers down for a nap and Cora’s in her room, Buck she’s upset”
“Why? Who’s hurt her?”
“One of the girls in her class is having a sleepover and invited all the other girls in the class, apart from Cory”
Your heart breaking again remembering how sad she looked coming out of school, normally she was all smiles and talking a thousand miles per hour, filling you in on what she had done that day but not today. It wasn’t until you got home where she finally broke down in tears.
“When?”
“Tonight, apparently all the other girls knew and was told not to tell Cora”
“Is her friend going?”
“Abbie? No she’s in a different class so she’s hasn’t been invited either”
“Give me 20 minutes and I’ll be back”
“Where are you going?”
“It’s a surprise doll” he winks before kissing you and leaving.
And sure enough twenty minutes later he was walking back through the door. This time he had two bags in his hands.
“Bucky?”
“Me, you and the kids are having our own sleep over and it’s going to be way better than that snobby-“
“She’s six Bucky”
“And? She didn’t invite the best girl to her sleep over so there for… she’s snobby”
Shaking your head you couldn’t help but smile as he pulled different snacks and drinks out of the bag onto the coffee table.
“So I’m thinking that we’ll make a pillow fort, watch movies and eat snacks and I’ll order us a pizza from Cora’s favourite place?”
Every fibre in your being was screaming at you just say those three words but you couldn’t, not yet at least. You and Bucky wasn’t even dating all you did was share a few kisses, it’ll be weird to blurt out them words.
“Mr Bucky you’re here” Cora says coming out of her bedroom.
“I’m here sweetheart, did your momma not tell you what was happening tonight?”
“No, what’s happening?”
“Us four are having a sleepover”
“Really?” She squeals and runs into Bucky who lifts her up. “Thank you thank you! This is the best day ever!”
You hear Jasper call out for you from his room so you leave Bucky and Cora alone. Picking Jasper up from his bed and walk in to the living room where the two year old says something that stops not only you in your tracks but Bucky and Cora.
“Dada”
His little arms reaching out to the only man in the room. Bucky’s eyes bounce from you then to Jasper, then to you. You can see it in his eyes that he’s begging you to tell him what to do but you can’t, you’re completely frozen.
“Bucky” he says slowly as to make Jasper understand but all he receives is-
“Dada” Jasper giggles and repeats the word a few more times.
Bucky finally puts Cora down and slowly makes his way over to you two and when he’s just in reach Jaspers jumped out of your arms and into Bucky’s. As soon as Bucky has hold of him you walk out of the room going straight to your bedroom. Shutting the door you burst out crying.
“Doll? I’m coming in okay?” It had been close to ten minutes since you had walked out. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry”
“Why are you sorry for?” Wiping your tears he pulls you into his chest.
“I tried correcting him but he just wouldn’t stop, even Cora told him not to”
���Did she say anything to you? About their father I mean.”
“No she just looked really upset.”
“He erm, he-“
“Y/n you don’t have to tell me, it’s okay”
“No no I want to, I trust you. He left, well he kicked me and Cora out when I was four months pregnant. Everything was fine that morning when we woke up, he went to work I stayed at home and when I was putting his dinner out he came home with an envelope in his hands and threw it on the table, he walked into Cora’s bedroom walked out with a huge bag a few minutes later then did the same with our room” wiping the fresh tears that had fallen, you hadn’t spoken about that day to anyone - not even your family.
“He told me to open the letter so I did an-and inside was paper, right. When I read it, it said that he had given up his rights to Cora and the unborn baby. I asked him why he was doing this and he told me I ruined his life when Cora was born and I was doing it again with the new baby, said he wanted to live his life without being tied down. Kicked me and a crying three year old out, at first I thought he had been cheating on me but it turns out he wasn’t, there was no one on the side he just wanted to live his life”
Bucky was practically shaking, you could feel the anger coming from him.
“I found out a few months later that all of our friends knew what he was doing, promised him that they would keep his secret and that he started the process when I was a few weeks along. Everyday he told me and Cory he loved us, spoke to the bump saying he couldn’t wait to meet them all while he and everyone around us knew what he was doing.”
“Y/n… doll I’m so sorry”
“Why it’s not your fault, you know Cory never even mentioned him after it happened not once, I thought she would of because she was such a daddy’s girl three nearly four years old and she knew, she knew he didn’t want her anymore so she never asked when she was going to see him or called out for him during the night. If he had just told me he didn’t want me anymore that I would have been okay with bu-but to not want anything to do with his kids? It didn’t make sense to me”
“Has he even been in contact with you since?”
“No. I got a phone call once from his friend who told me that he was really struggling to sell the house and somehow it was my fault”
“How was it your fault?”
“God knows, he started rambling off then started calling me names when he heard Ms Hopewell’s son talking in the background, said I had moved on pretty quick when I hadn’t. He was there helping me fix up my bed after his mum found out I was sleeping on the floor”
“Doll-“
“Don’t apologise again please Bucky, I got through it I’m fine now. I think hearing Jasper call you dada made unwanted emotions come up you know? You’ve obviously realised that he doesn’t speak much even at two there’s only a few words he can say, I don’t know where I went wrong with that but I’ve tried, I’ve tried teaching him other words but he just don’t.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong Y/n you are an incredible mum, those two kids out there are the most sweetest loving people. Jasper will start talking soon, I just know it”
You tried, you really did.
“I love you”
Oh the silence was killing you.
“I love you too” he smiled softly.
He leant in for a kiss when-
“Is Bucky our new daddy?”
“Not yet sweetheart” not yet played in your mind over and over even as he stands up winking at you and taking Coras hand in his and walks back to the living room.
That night after all the excitement needed to come to an end all four of you climbed into your bed. Cora tucked snuggly in your arms, Jasper in Bucky’s, Bucky’s left arm over your waist pulling all three of you closer to him. Alpine slept curled up in a ball at the bottom.
For the first time in just over two years you went to sleep dried faced and peacefully.
And unbeknownst to you, it was the first time in a very very long time that Bucky only had happy dreams as he slept.
It had been a month since the sleepover and confession, within that month Bucky had practically moved in. Alpine spent all her time with Cora and Jasper, sleeping with Jasper at night.
Bucky had to go on a work trip, he’d been gone for just over two weeks now and to be truthful you was missing him even if you did speak to him everyday, him ringing every night to say goodnight to the kids and speaking to you for a few minutes before he had to leave.
It was Wednesday afternoon and you couldn’t stop worrying when Bucky hadn’t called you the night before or that day. As you was cleaning the apartment the knock at the door made you jump. Cora went to jump up and answer it but since you knew it wasn’t Bucky you told her to stop receiving a frown in response.
Answering the door you froze.
“Hi, are you Y/n?” Nodding your head at the man he smiled. “Hi I’m-“
“Momma it’s Captain America!” Cora squealed from behind you.
Turning his attention from you to Cora he smiled softly “hello you must be Miss Cora, Bucky’s told me all about you”
“You know Mr Bucky? Momma he knows Bucky”
“I-I know sweetie” your eyes still trained on the blonde “would you like to come in?”
“Thank you”
Pulling Cora closer to you, you watched as Steve walked into your home. You couldn’t put your finger on it but for some reason you didn’t like the feeling you had in your stomach. Steve walked into the living room where Jasper and Alpine was.
“Cora take Jasper and Alpine into your room please”
“Why momma?”
“Just do as I say”
Cora listened and picked up her younger brother who had Alpine in his arms and walked into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her you let out a deep breath.
“Hi, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, is Bucky alright?”
“Yeah he’s fine, he asked me to come over and pick you guys up. It’s better if he explains”
“Where is he?”
“He’s at the tower, I need you to pack some clothes and come with me”
“For how long?”
“Enough for a few days”
“What’s Bucky’s favourite book?”
“Huh?”
“What’s his favourite book?” You asked again with your arms crossed.
“The Hobbit, why?”
“Okay, I’ll be right back”
“Why did you ask me that?”
“Just to see if it was really you” Steve’s laugh made you smile as you walked into Cora’s room.
Once packed Steve stood there holding the bags in one hand and in the other Cora’s hand as they both stood watching with amused smiles as you struggled to get Alpine into the cat carrier that Bucky had brought over a few weeks earlier when you both took her to the vets.
After almost ten minutes of struggling all it took was Jasper to pick her up and place her inside.
Never in your life have you been more thankful for your two year old.
“Bucky gave me his car keys” giving Steve a questionable look, he smiled “he said that he brought car seats for the kids and since we don’t have any laying around the tower it would be better if I took his car”
You didn’t know that he had brought car seats…
“O-oh”
You watched in awe as Steve strapped Cora into her seat that was princess themed easily, when he caught you staring at him “Bucky and I practiced with Morgan, Pepper her mum helped us figure it out. Got to say we’re naturals now” he laughed.
“I honestly didn’t know he was doing this”
“He really likes you and these kids, don’t tell him I told you this but he’s been reading books about kid’s development and stuff.”
“No he hasn’t…” you say as you put your seatbelt on.
“He has. That’s how I found out about you guys”
“I-I’m-wow. I didn’t know”
Steve chuckles at your shocked expression, “like I said he really likes you”
The rest of the drive was quiet between you and Steve, Cora asking the blonde a million of questions about everything and anything and him answering all of them with as much enthusiasm as she gave.
You didn’t have very much time to stare in fascination at the huge tower as Steve pulled into the underground garage, the squeals from both Cora and Jasper had your attention going to where they were shouting, Bucky stood there with his hands deep in his pockets and a large smile on his face as the car pulled up to a stop, going straight to the back door where Jasper was sat.
“Hey little man”
“Dada!”
“I’m here buddy, come on let’s get you out of this seat, yeah”.
Steve had already gotten out and making his way to help Cora out of her seat.
“Bucky it’s Captain America and he’s my friend” she said making both men smile.
“Is he now? Am I still your friend?”
“Of course Bucky! Your my best friend”
You had removed yourself from the car and made your way to get the bags out of the boot when Steve’s voice stopped you.
“I’ll get them don’t worry”
“You’ve done enough-“
“No honestly it’s fine”
"Come on doll, he'll be fine plus everyone's dying to meet you” Bucky says as he places Jasper further onto his hip.
"Are you sure Steve?"
"I'm sure, don't worry"
Reluctantly leaving Steve to grab the bags you take Bucky's free hand and hold onto Cora's, all four of you make your way into the large building.
"Doll, after I introduce you to the team you and I need to talk” Bucky whispered in your ear making you nervous slightly.
“Ah here’s the Manchurian Candidate’s little family, welcome I’m-“
“Iron man!” Cora cut him off.
“You know who I am then?”
“Yes! You fly in the air and it’s so cool!” She says excitedly.
“I fly too” Sam Wilson laughs - Cora’s eyes go wide at seeing him.
“T-the Falcon! Momma look it’s the Falcon a-and Black Widow an-and Scarlet Witch! A-a-and momma it’s Thor!” She spoke so fast she started to stutter, her entire body shaking with excitement making everyone chuckle.
You all heard hurried footsteps and a voice speaking with a hint of panic come closer. “Are they here? I’m sorry I’m late”
The loud gasp had everyone’s eyes snapping down to Cora - including yours and Bucky’s. “I-it’s Bruce! M-momma he-it-Bruce-Hulk” she lets go of your hand and runs up to a very confused looking Bruce “I’m-your-your hulk! You’re my favourite! I have so so so so so many toys of you don’t I momma? I do Bruce!” Once again everyone chuckles at her, not that she pays any attention to them, too busy looking up at the man who she’s pretended to be when she’s playing.
“Hi, you must be Cora?” Bruce says with a soft hue coating his cheeks.
Her eyes widen comically, turning to you slowly her chest rising and falling fast. “B-Bruce knows my name mo-momma”
“I know beautiful, just breathe okay”
“Can I hug you please?” She asks politely and nearly squeals when he nods and crouches down to her level. “This is the best day ever!” She declares whilst keeping her arms around Bruce’s neck.
Whilst the team was distracting the kids Bucky took your hand and led you both to his room. “I need to tell you something, and maybe ask you something.”
“Okay?”
“When I was in Wakanda Shuri promised me that if I ever wanted to go back I was welcome, and that I could live there, work there, have a life there and… and doll I want to retire, I’m done with this life, I’ve been doing it for so long.”
“Do it.” You said after a few minutes of silence, the hopeful look in his eyes hurt your heart, and even though it meant that what ever you two were was now at an end and you would have to explain to the kids that they wouldn’t see him or Alpine again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ask him not to go.
“What?”
“Retire, move to Wakanda and have an amazing life there.” You smiled softly at him. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, you deserve to be free Bucky.”
“B-But that’s the thing Y/n, I have you and the kids and I don’t want to leave you three behind.”
“You can always visit or we could visit you?”
Moving closer to you, taking your hands in his, he shakes his head. “No doll, I don’t think you understand. I’m in love with you and I love your kids like they’re my own and I’m happier than I have ever been since meeting you three, I want to ask if you will move with me? If-if not I can stay here with you, I don’t want to lose my family”
For the past year Bucky lived happily in Wakanda, true to her word Shuri welcomed him with open arms and even showed him a farm house that she got built just for him - right where his hut use to be. He had his own farm, his own sanctuary and he loved every single part of it.
Bucky would admit that he had missed New York, especially Steve and the little life he had for himself there but he knew he made the right decision by walking away from it all.
As he was walking towards his home some of the local children were playing with a football, all stopping their game to run over to him, all wanting a hug from the White Wolf as they still called him.
“Daddy!”
“Ah, there’s my little girl! How are you princess?”
“I’m okay, are we going home?”
“You can stay out and play for a little bit? I don’t think momma will be mad.”
“No, I want to go home now.” Watching as she waves goodbye to her friends, she lifts her arms out for him to pick her up.
“You are so heavy now.”
“No I’m not!” She giggles.
Walking through the gate and down the pathway Bucky opens the door, helping his little girl take her shoes off as well as his own, Alpine trots over to them giving them a welcome home meow.
“Momma we’re home!”
They both stand there hearing footsteps come closer to them. “Did you have fun Cory?”
“I did momma, where’s Jaspy?”
“He’s in the living room baby. Hey handsome.”
“Hi beautiful.”
When Bucky asked if you would move to Wakanda with him, you was skeptical, it’s not that you didn’t want to go but you had two children to think about. You asked Cora about it and she seemed happy about moving to a new place, Tony let Bucky take a jet for the four of you to fly out to see how the kids took to the place.
Cora’s jaw dropped wide open when she met Shuri. “A-A real princess!” She stuttered, you thought she was going to collapse the second Shuri opened her arms for the six year old to hug her. Cora instantly made friends with some of the children she met, and when she met the farm animals it was that moment she was sold on moving there.
Jasper seemed happy too, he was fascinated by the goats and wanted to touch each and every one of them. Bucky told you that Alpine now had competition.
After a few days in the beautiful land you came back to New York, the next day you sat the kids down and asked them if they wanted to stay - both shaking their heads- or go to Wakanda - both of them screaming ‘yes’. A week later both yours and Bucky’s apartments were empty and ready for new people to call the places home.
“How are my babies doing?”
“Jasper and Alpine decided to wreck the play room.” You both chuckled. “And this little one has been very active today.” Bucky’s hands went straight to your growing bump, his eyes lighting up at feeling his third child move around in the love of his life’s stomach.
Five months ago you found out you were pregnant, and whilst you was happy you couldn’t help but feel nervous about Bucky’s behaviour changing towards Cora and Jasper, when you told him he burst out crying and kept saying that he was going to be a dad again, he kissed you and your stomach. It wasn’t just you that was scared but Cora was as well, Bucky promised that he would love all his children equally, later that night he promised you that nothing would change and that he is still Cora and Jaspers dad regardless.
“I love you and I love our perfect family.”
Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77
#marvel#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky barns x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fic#Bucky fic#Bucky fluff#Bucky angst#Bucky x you#bucky x you fluff#bucky x you angst#bucky x reader.#bucky x female yn#bucky x f!reader#bucky x female reader#Bucky x y/n#bucky x reader angst#bucky x reader fluff
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Jealousy
Eren x fem reader
Word count: 2k+
Genre & warnings: drabble, smut - minors DNI. Fluff, smut, angst, explicit language, unprotected sex, & creampie
Summary: You make your boyfriend Eren jealous at a party and he gets you back by fucking the shit out of you in his car
Note: was originally a Jungkook drabble of mine but l've just changed his name and added Eren for my aot peeps lmfao
To tell the truth, Eren was never the insecure type. Jelous and possessive, yes, but never insecure. He knew you were for him and no one else, and that’s why he was never wary of you going out with minimal clothing. You looked good in it, too good. Good enough to want to fuck your throat in the bathroom while yours and his friends partied on.
His cock twitched just at the thought of the material hugging your figure, the figure that he loves seeing bent over his lap while his fingers work wonders inside of you.
Your pussy was his weakness.
And you were currently keeping it from him. After a heated argument before the party did you both silently agree to leave each other alone for the rest of the night.
His little hopes of fucking you in the bathroom long gone as you have fun with your friends while he sulks in a corner while his friends banter.
He never minded you going out in your little skirts or dresses, not that you would let him stop you, your attitude and feistiness is what he loves the most. But that would always go away when he’s deep inside of you.
He watches you from across the room, the little black skirt you have on right now isn’t doing to good for the minimal space he has in his pants. You’re with your friends, oblivious to the few men that can’t seem to look away from you.
He doesn’t blame them for staring, but deep down he hopes that’s all they do. He knows you could handle them with your little attitude, but some men don’t back away so easily, and he doesn’t want to have to result in anything that will ruin both of your nights.
Eren has a reputation for his temper, it’s something that he’s working on, but with your obliviousness and the men surrounding you, it’s hard to control. Especially when you both have just had a heated argument.
So after a while of watching you as he gets frustrated when a guy approaches you and you entertain him, does he then make a promise to himself that he’s going to make you pay for teasing him.
You always do this whenever you argue, try to make him jealous by talking to another guy when you know he’s watching. Eren doesn’t know if you do it deliberately or not, but the sight of you giving your attention to a man other than him makes him feel all different types of things.
He’ll never stop you from talking to a man, he’s not that possessive, but that doesn’t mean he appreciates it. Especially when your innocent eyes look up at the man before you as he hungrily eyes you.
When the party comes to and end, a few stragglers here and there, do you find yourself in Erens car.
You both sit there in silence, you wondering why he hasn’t started the car yet. Your questions are answered when his deep voice sounds over the music.
“Who was you talking to back at the party?”
You watch as his slim body lazily leans against the seat, hair messily tied back in a bun, a few strands loose. His body language is completely opposite to what his tone suggests.
“Eren I’m not doing this today, we already done this before the party, let’s not have another” you roll your eyes watching as he looks at you with his unbothered posture.
He licks his lips and moves the fallout hair out from his face.
“You attempted to make me jealous and now that you’ve succeeded, you’re mad? Baby, just answer my question”
“We just talked Eren, don’t make this into a big deal”
Maybe you were oblivious to his true intentions, he doesn’t really give a fuck about what you spoke about because he knows he’s going to be buried deep inside of you before the night ends.
The other guys can look at you and dream of you all they want, but he will be the one to enjoy the taste of your pussy, he will always gets the last laugh.
“Get in the back seat”
“What? Eren take me home”
“Y/n I’m not playing, get in the back seat”
You watch his eyes lower in warning, daring you to say anything else.
You hide a smirk as you shuffle your way to the back seat, making yourself comfortable as you spread your legs open for him as he watches you in the drivers seat, bottom lip between his teeth.
It’s like a little game to you guys. Argue and then fuck, you knew it was coming eventually, you just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
He makes his way to you, watching your pussy hide behind the lacy underwear you wore tonight.
Such a little tease he thinks.
Soon enough you both have swapped positions, him sitting on the seat and you on top of him, your clothed pussy throbbing against his hard cock that surely shows under his jeans.
You decide to slowly grind back and forth to relieve yourself of the friction you crave.
Eren softy hisses, looking up at you with hunger and admiration. Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you continue to grind against him. Your black skirt now hunched above your waist.
He takes this opportunity to play with your soft ass as you eagerly kiss him. The taste of alcohol is still evident on his lips which only makes you deepen the kiss.
“Pull me out” he grunts after you both come up for air.
You smirk at him, lifting up a bit so your hand can access his zipper, he helps you with this task as you evidently move slower than he would like.
Your pussy clenches around nothing when you see the sight of his thick throbbing cock.
You move your hand slowly up and down his length, savouring his reaction as he deeply moans at the touch. Your thumb rubs against his tip, just before you decide to lift up again and direct his dick towards your wet cunt.
Panties to the side, you lower yourself slowly down his length, your wetness helping you through the process as you take him in.
“Fuck” you both say in unison.
Your eyes close as you sit there on his lap with his full dick inside of you, a slight burn as he fully stretches you out.
“Look at me princess” his deep voice sounds through the dark car.
You open them and watch him in all his glory. A slight smirk on his pink lips, his eyes never leaving you, how could he? He wants to see every little thing, the way your eyebrows slightly furrow, to the way you bite down on your plump lips. He can’t miss it.
His hand comes up behind your neck, guiding you towards him as he kisses you again, this time more rougher, more sloppier.
You slowly lift up with his cock still inside of you. With your added wetness the burn is only faint which then eases into nothing as your pace quickens.
He’s catching your moans in his deep kiss, hands on your ass again as he helps you with the pace.
“You gonna continue to make me jealous?” He grunts as he delivers a smack to your ass which is followed by a whiny moan from you.
His pace quickens, him doing most of the work as you simply can’t take anymore.
You shake your head as you use the headrest in front to help support you as his cock continues to pound inside you.
“Use your words” he watches you turn into a full mess, your breasts almost spilling out of your top at the quick pace he’s giving. Your whiny moans are like music to his ears, only egging him to go harder.
“No! I won’t make you jealous Eren. Fuck! Oh my god!” You slump against and clench around him in pure ecstasy as his cock continues to pound in you. His balls slapping against your ass adding to his perfect melody.
The wetness of your pussy makes its way down your thigh and onto his jeans as you whimper against his chest.
“Eren please fuck, right there”
“You like making me jealous huh?” He coos in your ear as his pace slowens but his movements become harsher. “Just so I can fuck you like this?”
You hurriedly nod, not really listening to what he’s saying as all you can focus on is his cock that’s working wonders inside of you.
You’ll never be able to get enough of his dick.
But despite your thoughts, your words betray you when you say; “Baby please I can’t take it”
“You want me to go slower?” He watches you with concern as you sit up and look at him with a soft pout as you nod your head.
“Go at your pace baby”
You put both of your hands behind you on his knees for support as you grind back and forth at your pace, the sound of your wetness can be heard throughout the car, that just eggs you to keep going.
“Mhh fuck” he moans as you keep grinding.
You start to slowly rise and go back down again at your pace while Eren fondles with your breasts over your top.
You stifle a moan as you continue riding him slowly, the added pleasure of him playing with your tits makes your head spin.
“Fuck baby you’re taking me so well” his arms grab your waist as he scoots down the seat a bit to further comfort himself. He takes control, still making sure that he’s not too rough and fast, because although he wants to pound you like crazy, he also doesn’t want to hurt you and push you further than your limits.
Your moans fill the car along with Erens deep grunts as he feels you clenching around him again as your orgasm slowly approaches.
His large hands stroke up and down your back as he thrusts his hips up into you, taking your breath away.
“E-Eren please” you almost stand up not being able to take anymore, despite your approaching orgasm.
“You can take it, take it for me baby”he continues at his slow pace trying his hardest not to to take full control.
He catches your moans in his kiss again as he slightly lifts you up and down on his lap, his cock hitting your spot as you let out another whimper.
“You’re doing such a good job Princess”
“Eren”
Your orgasm is approaching fast and you know his is too, by the way he begins to sloppily thrust his hips into you.
“I’m here, I’m right here baby” he pants as you play with the hair that’s found it’s way on his forehead.
The way he intensely watches you as you both come to a simultaneous orgasm is just enough to send you through the roof as your words get stuck in your throat and you look up at the roof of his car in euphoria.
“F-fuck” he grunts as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Your pussy repeatedly clenches after your orgasm, making him slightly hiss.
You watch him with pure lust as you both come down from your orgasm, both of you looking like a fucked out mess. Sweat dripping down your clothed bodies as well as both of your cum that’s slowly making its way down your thigh.
“Jealousy looks good on you”
#aot drabbles#aot smut#aot x black reader#aot#aot fanfiction#aot x reader#eren aot#aot eren#eren jaeger#eren smut#eren x reader#eren yeager#eren jeager x reader#eren x you#eren jeager smut#eren x black fem!reader#eren x y/n#eren x black yn#eren drabble#eren x black reader#eren x black y/n#eren yaeger x reader#eren yaeger smut#eren jeager x black reader#eren jeager x y/n#eren jeager#aot x female reader#aot x black y/n#smut#drabble
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Part One ThirtyTwo
Prompt from @janie-bean
Eddie’s been working a lot of extra hours since Thanksgiving.
Like a lot.
He’s been doing some hours pretty much every day the store has been open, and to Steve he’s starting to look a little frazzled by it. He forgot his lunch this morning, so Steve has an excuse to stop by and check on him at least. Eddie insists that he’s fine, just that the store is small and they’ve had a lot of customers lately.
Although Steve is pretty sure Eddie thrives on interaction, on new experiences, on just...life, in general, since it’s all still shiny and new to him...he also senses Eddie has creeping uncertainties around his feelings about The General Public.
There’s a distinct possibility they might be starting to get to him, especially when they’re rude. Eddie has made it clear he does not like it when people are rude, asking Steve one evening, “why can’t they just be nice? I’m nice.”
And although Steve totally agreed with Eddie, he couldn’t really give a satisfactory explanation as to why some people just seem to be perpetually dicks.
According to Chrissy, everyone likes their home to look nice for Thanksgiving and Christmas, so that means a lot of fresh flower arrangements to put together, and Eddie has been working the register and maintaining the store front a lot of the time, an arrangement that gives Eddie a lot of exposure to The General Public.
Not to mention all the gifts on the run up to Christmas; Eddie said a man came in yesterday and put in an order for twelve matching arrangements for the end of this week. Eddie haltingly explained that all of his staff, ‘the girls’ were getting flowers and wine as a Christmas gift from the boss. Apparently it ‘keeps them sweet’, which was actually the phrase Eddie was seeking clarification on.
He was relieved to hear the man wasn’t actually a cannibal of some sort.
Eddie’s also, clearly, worried about Chrissy. She accepted the order for the arrangements, but Eddie was vocally unimpressed by the short notice; having him explain things to Steve is kind of novel, it’s been the other way around since Steve rescued Eddie from Starcourt. Now he has Eddie explaining to him about how long ordering flowers takes and how long they last in the shop. Eddie’s also clearly spent enough time with Chrissy to pick up the language; he talks about all the flowers with confidence, and the pride that wells up inside Steve seems to fill him like a warm balloon. He’s pretty sure he could listen to Eddie talk all day, which is lucky, because unless he’s engrossed in something, Eddie likes to talk a lot.
Chrissy isn’t there when Steve heads in, but Eddie is behind the counter rolling some flowers in some paper, producing a neat bunch held together with some ribbon. His hair is different from when he left the house this morning; it had been in a sloppy bun, but it’s much neater now. Steve can see where Chrissy has put it in a tight braid and tidied some of Eddie’s flyaway curls with bobby pins, there’s a little red tinsel on the stubby end of the braid; it’s cute.
He’s wearing a black tee shirt under his apron, some rock band thing, and Steve waits as Eddie deftly works the register and then hands the lady her change.
“See you again soon,” he calls to the woman as she bustles out of the store, Steve holding the door for her.
There’s already someone else at the register, but Eddie gives Steve a quick smile before he disappears out the back. He’s holding a massive bouquet when he comes back, so Steve just lingers, looking at all the loose flowers while Eddie finds a receipt book and an order and charges the customer the remaining balance after deducting their deposit.
He does the whole thing smoothly, completely competent. Steve is so fucking proud of him.
“Hey, you forgot your lunch.”
“Thank you, sorry you needed to drive here.”
Steve shrugs, “that’s okay, busy again today?”
Eddie nods, pulling the sandwich from the sack and getting it half unwrapped so he can shove it in his mouth, “forgot breakfast.”
Steve had been showering this morning when Eddie had headed down; he hadn’t even noticed Eddie hadn’t eaten, “I’ll make us a big dinner? What do you want?”
Eddie shrugs, shoving the sandwich in for another bite. The store goes quiet, the background music stopping, and Eddie desperately chews and swallows, “Chrissy!” He calls, “not again?”
“Yes again!” And then the music starts. Bing Crosby, White Christmas, or whatever it’s called. Eddie groans, his whole body sagging.
“Not enjoying the Christmas tunes?”
“They were okay the first ten times.” Eddie says, deadpan. The bell tinkles behind Steve, and Eddie wraps his lunch up quick, stashing it under the counter, “morning,” he tells the customer, who then asks Eddie a question about flowers that Steve doesn’t understand.
Steve shifts himself out of the way a little, lingering while Eddie deals with yet another customer. There’s a tugging on his pant leg, and Steve looks down to find a little girl, toddler age, pointing at a flower she can’t reach.
Steve has absolutely no idea what it is, but it has a soft stem; no hard bits or thorns or anything, so he crouches down to give it over.
She’s cute, a yellow woolen dress over fluffy tights and tiny little boots. She has her hair gathered up in a bun, mumbling something that sounds like, “princess hair,” before tilting her head so Steve can put the stem of the flower through her bun.
“I’m so sorry, Grace, come on, don’t bother the poor man,” her mother takes her hand, bouquet grasped in the other.
“Oh, no problem, she’s fine.”
The bell tinkles as they leave, and Steve turns to find he’s being watched by Chrissy and a chewing Eddie, “well that was adorable.”
Steve shrugs, “she was cute.”
“Uh hu, can just see you with like, a soccer team of munchkins.”
“Can’t say I’ve given it much thought,” which is true, just lately. He had always thought he’d like a few kids, but now there’s Eddie, and Steve guesses things just don’t work out that way sometimes.
“Uh hu, pretty sure Eddie would make the best dad,” Chrissy bumps shoulders with him playfully, but Steve catches the fleeting frown on Eddie's face. “You still seeing Owens later?” Chrissy changes tack.
“Yeah, he’s got me and Eddie filling out a dream diary thing.”
“Yeah, Eddie said, last night he dreamed he was a gift and Santa dropped him off at the wrong house.”
“Shhh!” Steve tells her, “we’re not supposed to talk about it in case we like, muddy the results or whatever, subconsciously.”
“Uh hu. So what did you dream last night?” Chrissy asks; she blatantly doesn’t care for Owens’ scientific method.
Steve sighs. Today is the last day of the diary thing, so it probably doesn’t make any difference, “Santa left a gift by accident, and I had to get it to the kid it was meant for so I...dreamt I broke into the post office. It made sense at the time.”
“Steve...come on, you can’t deny the link there, it’s not exactly subtle. Maybe Eddie has powers, like El?”
“Yeah, and maybe we should burn the stupid diaries...I don’t want to give Owens any excuse to experiment-”
The bell over the door tinkles, Chrissy plastering on her customer service smile and Eddie stashing the crumpled paper bag beneath the counter again.
Eddie sits with a headband of little devices strapped around his head. He seems fine about it, but Steve’s not going to take his eyes off him. Or Owens.
“Your friend could be right Eddie, your readings are not that dissimilar to El’s just...greatly reduced. Much weaker.”
“So I won’t be moving things around with my mind?”
“I...doubt it.”
Eddie humphs, which despite Steve continuing to be deeply unimpressed with Owens, he can’t help but be amused by. “So what about the dreams?”
“There could be...multiple explanations. From the readings we have from Eddie, and other...examples,” Owens says the word very carefully. Steve knows Eddie was not the only ‘specimen’ brought back from the upside down, but he’s the only one Owens is saying survived Starcourt. Some were even dissected there, a thought that makes Steve feel physically cold with the horror of it.
“There is a possibility that Eddie, at that point in his development, had access to a kind of...low level hive mind. And now that Eddie no longer has access to that, it’s seeking out the nearest thing to join up with. Of course that is just speculation; I don’t know how your DNA being in the mix could effect that? It could simply be that you and Eddie became somehow...linked due to your contribution to the transformation. If you would consent to me taking a blood sample-”
Steve huffs, and something on Eddie’s monitor beeps, “what was that?”
Owens shrugs, “it would take a lot more study. That could simply be Eddie responding to visible irritation from you, or it could be that there is a genuine link and he felt it too.”
They’ve had this conversation so many times now, and every time Owens brings it up, Steve wants to punch him. He just cannot bring himself to tolerate Owens, knowing his methods and what he’s done. Unfortunately he seems to the be only one; Hopper seems disgruntled but willing to go along with it. That doesn’t seem to mean much though, Hopper is disgruntled by everything and constantly seems to be just going along with it anyway.
Eddie likes Owens, and has outright told Steve so. El seems fine with him, too. So it’s just Steve, digging his feet in stubbornly. “Would it help Eddie? My blood?”
“Obviously there are no guarantees but...I have samples of the before and after with Eddie...so to have a better view of the catalyst from the transformation…simply put, I would be able to see what parts of Eddie are you, Steve, and what parts developed organically. To have a better understanding of this now would be helpful in the future should there be a problem.”
“Stevie? You don’t have to.”
Steve sighs, “I know I just...just do it then,” he sits in the seat Owens indicates, “and what about this mental link thing?”
“That would require a lot of testing,” Owens answers vaguely.
Steve sighs, “after Christmas. And only if Eddie wants to.”
Part ThirtyFour
#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie#ficlet#ao3 author#upside down creature eddie#Fish Guy Eddie#creature eddie munson#creature#robin buckly#pre steddie#mermaid eddie
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imma hit you with a twofer: extra smooth by aaliyah with geto...and gimme more by brittany spears with kishibe
Extra Smooth
Pairing: Suguru Geto x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~3.0k
cw: next-door neighbor Geto who is kind of an asshole, shy reader, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), cunnilingus, sex without a condom, sex toy use
Summary: Your next-door neighbor is loud, inconsiderate, and unfortunately, very hot. No matter how many times you bang on his door with another new noise complaint, he’ll continue to repeat his offenses nearly every weekend. You’re too timid to submit a formal complaint to the landlord, so you shrug it off, hoping that one day, he’ll suddenly become nice. That day comes sooner than you think, when he unexpectedly makes a visit to your apartment, discovering the real reason you need your peace and quiet.
Author’s Note: @demonwoman Mephisto! I LOVE this song and Aaliyah, honestly this was so perfect for Geto. Thank you for requesting a two-fer for the y2k karaoke party! I’ll post the Kishibe one soon. Had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciating, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.
part 1 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
Even with your headphones in, music on high, you can still hear the loud bass reverberating through the shared wall of your apartment. You remove one of the buds in your ear to press it to the plaster, listening carefully to your neighbor having another party next door. Rolling your eyes, you save the document on your screen before shutting your laptop closed, quickly putting on a pair of mismatched sweatpants and sweater. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to go over to Suguru Geto’s apartment to ask him to lower the volume. You did it last weekend, and the one before that, even twice last month. It isn’t fun for you to be that person, but the intense bass that rattles your bedroom walls really is distracting. You thought that after the first two times you complained, he would be more conscious of it. Nope, still noisy and obnoxious as ever. The problem is you’re too chicken shit to make a formal complaint to your landlord. Of course he isn’t taking it seriously, not from his timid, home-body neighbor next door. Why should he when it’s only you that it’s bothering?
You slide into your fuzzy slippers and make your way out into the hallway, closing the door shut behind you. A few steps and you’re in front of Geto’s, knocking three times. You can hear people chatting and laughing from inside, not responding. You wait another couple of seconds before forcefully pounding on the door with your fist, finally getting a reaction. The chatter hushes and soon, he reveals himself, answering the door with a tight grin on his face, clearly annoyed. “What can I do for you, neighbor?” he grits through his teeth, still maintaining a forced smile.
You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly insecure in his presence. There’s no denying it; he’s an attractive man, tall and lean beneath tight-fitting clothes. Long, black hair drapes down his back, a portion of it wrapped in a loose bun, loose strands falling before his handsome face. And sure, maybe sometimes he crosses your mind while you’re in your bedroom, playing with the toys you have currently hidden away in your nightstand. But that’s as far as it goes: fantasy. In reality, your next-door neighbor is an asshole.
“Could you please lower the volume of your music? It’s really loud.” You decide not to bring up the other incidents from the past, not wanting to aggravate the situation any further.
He grins at you, disingenuous, definitely irritated, but trying not to show it. “Sure. I can do that. Anything else?”
You shake your head, muttering a quiet, “Thanks.” You glance at the people inside, who stare at you, snickering to each other.
“Nice slippers, by the way,” he taunts, before slamming the door shut. There’s an uproar of laughter from inside, and you retreat back into your home, irked by his attitude. It’s not that hard to be considerate of others, right? So why is he making this so much more difficult than it needs to, making you feel like the asshole? You shake it off, trying not to let it bother you. He actually does lower the volume, so you’re satisfied, despite the unnecessary insults you hear from the other side. God she’s so lame. She’s home alone on a Friday night, what do you expect?
With another roll of your eyes, you open your laptop, resuming where you left off. Your fingers type away at the keys fluidly, your concentration regained, hating yourself a little bit for what you’re about to type, especially after what just happened:
Yeah, you want this cock, don’t you?
Been hungry for it this entire time, huh?
[clothing rustling]
Well, go ahead. Come get it. Use me like you’ve always wanted to.
[spits into hand, starts stroking his cock]
I’ll be a good neighbor to you from now on. The very best.
~~~
You finish the script past midnight, falling asleep before you get a chance to proofread and edit it. There’s no title yet, though you have a vague idea of what you want it to be. Saturdays, you’re usually out with friends throughout the day, so you decide to finish the rest of it once you’re back home from dinner tonight. Before you leave, you type a quick title at the top of the page: [M4F] Your Hot Asshole Neighbor Finally Decides to Be Nice to You.
This isn’t the first script you’ve written. Last month, you tried your hand at it and it got picked by one of your favorite nsfw voice actors. The thrill of hearing their deep voice moaning the words you wrote motivated you enough to work on another. The commission payment is an added bonus. With your full-time job occupying your week, weekends are the only free time you have to write, especially Friday nights. That’s why you need your concentration; and that’s why Geto’s loud music bothers you so much. You can’t completely hate him, though. After all, he’s the inspiration behind this latest piece, though you will never admit that to him. Ever. In fact, this entire gig you’re doing is a secret only for you to harbor. Not even your closest friends are aware that you’re doing this as a hobby.
The document sits temporarily forgotten on your laptop while you galivant with your besties throughout the day. After a delicious dinner together, they drop you off to your apartment, where pour yourself a glass of white wine to sip on in your pajamas while you edit your naughty script at the dining table.
You’ve read it twice through, starting from the top for a third review when there’s a knock on your door. You check your phone, searching for a text from a friend who might be stopping by, but you see none. Confused, you tip toe in your fuzzy slippers to look through the peephole, surprised to see Geto standing on the other side.
You open the door, greeting him hesitantly. “Um, hi.”
He nods, hands in his pockets, giving you a quick scan before speaking. “Hey. I, uh, locked myself out. The landlord isn’t going to be back until an hour or so and I’m too cheap to call a locksmith right now. Is it cool if I just hang out in here while I wait?”
You consider this carefully, still in disbelief that this happening. You can’t just kick him to the curb and refuse, especially when it’ll only be for a short while. Deciding to let bygones be bygones, you agree to help him, opening the door wider to let him through.
“Thank you,” he mutters, stepping inside. “Do you want me to take my shoes off?”
“Yes. I think I have some slippers for you. I’ll be right back.” You rush to your bedroom, searching for a pair of slides that he can use in the meantime. It takes a while to find them, buried under a pile of junk in your closet. Before you head out to meet him, you quickly put a bra on, acutely aware that he might have caught sight of your nipples peeking through the thin layer of your shirt. It doesn’t matter, though; he doesn’t think of you in like that anyways. You’re just his lame, lonely neighbor next door, right?
You return, looking towards the couch, expecting to see him sitting there. To your horror, you catch him at the dining table, seated where you previously were before he arrived, staring at your laptop screen.
“Hey!” You hustle towards him, slamming it shut with enough force to rattle the table.
He glances at you, cheeks red, an odd expression on his face. “What was that?” he asks, pointing to the computer.
You snatch it away, storing it in one of the kitchen drawers, desperate to hide it as if the damage hasn’t already been done. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
He stands up, lips parted, trying to find the words to say. “That was…I’m pretty sure it said…Is that about me?”
Your skin is sweltering now, beyond freaked out and unsure how to fix this mess. Is it better to lie and try to chalk it up as one big joke? Or should you be honest and hope he’s understanding about it? Either way, there’s no turning the clock back. He’s already read something, and it’s not going to be leaving his mind anytime soon.
You decide to tell him the truth, as best as you can explain it. “Okay, I know it’s weird, but I write these types of scripts for voice actors to perform. It’s just a little part-time hobby I have, and I even get paid for it. Sure, it’s a little risqué, but it’s nothing illegal, okay?” He continues to stare at you, expression relaxing just the slightest bit.
“Also, it’s not about you. Maybe it’s a little bit inspired by you, but it’s definitely not about you. Not exactly,” you add, uncertainty laced in your voice. This is even more mortifying than you expected it to be. Is it too late to break the lease on your rent and move across town?
It’s quiet for what seems like forever. He doesn’t respond, contemplating your explanation silently to himself. Eventually, he takes a couple steps towards you, reaching behind to slide the drawer open, pulling your laptop out. You’re frozen, stunned by his close proximity, anticipating his next move. Finally, he says, “I want to read the rest of it.”
“What?”
He smirks, tension easing from his shoulders as he sits down, taking a swig from your wine glass. “I want to finish it. It was getting good before you stopped me.” He opens your laptop screen, the document appearing exactly where he left off.
You bury your face in your hands, taking the seat beside him, groaning. “I can’t believe this is happening right now.” You refill your glass almost to the brim with wine, taking a large gulp of it before passing it to him.
“Did you really think you could keep something like this a secret? This is pretty wild,” he chuckles, tipping it into his mouth, at the same spot where you did.
“I didn’t think you’d be the first person to find out, though.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever is about to unravel from this.
“Fair enough.” He scans the words, reading each one meticulously. “So are these lines supposed to be, like, what the voice actor says? It’s just them talking?”
“Yup.”
He giggles, blushing. “Okay, so, we’re pretending that I’m the asshole neighbor. Got it. Are you sure this isn’t about me?”
“It’s inspired by you. Inspired,” you reiterate, swallowing a large gulp of alcohol.
He bites his lip, hiding his smile. “Okay. Um, so it says here in the bracket that there’s knocking.”
“That’s the cue for sound effects.”
“Got it. So,” Geto knocks thrice on the surface of the dining table, reading, “What can I do for you, neighbor? Oh, you want me to turn the volume down? Is it too loud for you again? This is totally about me!”
You can’t help but laugh, shrugging. “Maybe it’s a little bit about you.”
He hides his smile behind his hand, swearing under his breath. “Shit, okay.” He clears his throat before continuing. “I’m sorry for being so noisy these past few weeks. Do you think you could ever forgive me? Do people really get off on lines like this?”
“Just keep reading it!” you yell at him, playfully kicking him beneath the table.
“Okay, okay! Ahem. I think I know exactly what I can do to make it up to you. I know you like me, even though I’m such an asshole. Think you can forgive me for just one night?”
You clench your thighs together, concealing the arousal growing between your legs. You’ve always thought he had a sexy voice but paired with the script and knowing what’s about to come, it’s hard to control your desires.
His voice is hushed now, low and sultry. “Yeah? That’s what I thought. You want this cock, don’t you?” Geto swallows thickly, pausing to catch his breath. “Been hungry for it this entire time, huh?” There’s a blush in his cheeks again. He shifts in his seat, hands down at his lap. “Well, go ahead. Come get it. Use me like you’ve always wanted to. Whoa, okay, this is…this is getting a little crazy now,” he chuckles nervously, avoiding your gaze.
Unable to resist your curiosity, you glimpse at his crotch, an obvious bulge protruding from his sweatpants, stunned that he’s hard right now. Without thinking, you scoot closer to him, placing your hand on his knee. He meets your gaze, eyes wide, lips parted.
“If you want to, we can stop,” you whisper, fingers trailing his inner thigh delicately. You can’t deny it any longer. You want him. You’ve always wanted him. And if he didn’t feel the same, he would have already been gone by now, too weirded out by your strange hobby to stick around. Yet, here he is, playing along with it, playing along with you.
You wait for his answer, resting your hand dangerously near his erection strained in his pants. “I don’t want to stop,” he says, spreading his legs wider for you. “l want to be a good neighbor to you from now on. The very best.”
~~~
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he pants, stripping his clothes off hastily as you watch him, already naked on your bed. When he’s finished, he hovers over you, relishing the sight of you beneath him.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss, tongues swirling around each other’s sloppily. “You’re sure you want to keep going?” you ask between smooches.
He laughs, sucking on your bottom lip. “I’m not stopping this for anything. Are you sure you want to keep going?”
You nod at him, guiding his hands to your breasts. “Absolutely.”
He pinches your nipples until they’re perky and you’re whining in ecstasy, rutting your hips against him, desperate for friction. He slides down, leaving a trail of kisses along your body until he’s at your arousal, tongue lapping at your clit. You squeeze his head between your thighs, his mouth pressed firmly to your cunt, slurping at your juices. “Fuck, Geto. Feels so good.”
“Suguru,” he muffles, lips latched to your swelling bud. “Call me Suguru.”
You run your fingers through his hair as he eats you out, tugging at the strands when you reach your first orgasm, gushing all over his face. He licks you slowly as you come down from your high, flicking the tip of his tongue on your sensitive bud. He reaches down to stroke his cock, stiff in his fist and leaking with precum. “Fuck, you taste amazing. So fucking pretty when I eat out this sloppy cunt. Can I fuck you now, sweetheart? I want to make you come around my cock.”
You roll over in bed, spreading your ass cheeks for him. “Yeah, fuck me, Suguru. Fuck this wet cunt.”
He wipes the sweat beading on his forehead, jerking his cock feverishly in his other hand. “Fuck, I knew you were a slut, I just knew it,” he huffs, slapping his dick on your ass, rubbing it slowly between the soft flesh of your cheeks. He guides himself inside you, stretching you out little by little until you swallow him up completely. He starts thrusting, his motions extra smooth from your previous orgasm. “All those nights, I listened to you touch yourself with those vibrators. I’d stroke my cock with you, come whenever you did. Your little whimpers are so fucking sexy, especially when you try to hide them. You have no idea what you do to me.”
You’re too fucked out to process his confession, throwing your ass in tandem with his thrusts. His grip is tight on your waist, fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before. Suddenly, he pulls out, pussy fluttering around nothing, eager to be stuffed gain. You whine, craning your neck to glare at him while he gives you a naughty smirk, reaching for your nightstand. “Are they in here? Your toys?” He searches it blindly, retrieving one of your favorites, clicking the button to activate it, buzzing in his hold. “Use it while you use me.”
You obey his request without question, holding the vibrator against your sensitive clit as he pushes himself back inside you, pounding away at your cunt. You climax twice more around him, completely spent now, brain like mush, letting the toy fall off the bed, slippery with your cum. He laughs at your docile expression, pulling out to bury his face back into your pussy, licking off all the cum smeared over you, determined to make you come again. When you do, he crawls up the bed, a satisfied smile on his face, straddling you while he pumps his cock in his fist. After a couple strokes, he shoots onto your tits, covering them in his pearly cum, moaning your name.
He helps you clean it off, grabbing several tissues from the nightstand, wiping your chest dry. You scoot closer to the wall to make room for him, snuggling beside you with his mouth grazing your forehead, giving you a smooch.
Thinking logically again, you recall his confession from earlier. “Can you really hear me through these walls?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. But only if I’m listening really carefully.”
“And did you really…?”
“Yeah. I did,” he admits, blushing. “Sorry. I guess I’m kind of a pervert.”
You giggle, nuzzling into his chest. “Well, what does that make me then? Who’s the one who wrote filthy scenarios about you?”
“I thought you said it was only inspired by me?” he teases, cuddling you closer.
“It was totally about you, okay? I just never thought it’d actually happen.”
He massages your back lovingly. “Aren’t you glad it did?”
You peer up to smile at him. “Yeah. I am.”
~~~
The following weekend, there’s another noise complaint. This time, however, it’s you receiving it from your neighbor on the other side, complaining about how loud you and Geto are while having sex.
#geto suguru#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#suguru geto smut#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#geto smut#geto x reader#geto x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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Ice on her Lips
Synopsis ~ Gifted with the curse of immortality, you are the northern princess that each kingdom desires to grasp. You hide within the northern army as an infamous general, fighting for your kingdom's treasure with ease... until a soldier from the east kingdom, whom you can never overpower, discovers your identity. The water is warm, but his lips are warmer, and you suddenly never want to return home. Even if you give your greatest enemy your sacred gift, you wish to stay in his enchanting hold.
Pairing ~ enemy!seonghwa x enemy!princess!reader
Word count ~ 5.3k
Genre / warnings ~ historical-ish, fantasy, romance, EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, enemies-to-lovers, violence, war, blood, suffering, reader has white hair for plot, kissing, outdoor / semi-public sex, underwater play (?), the cave makes his soft noises really loud, he tries to gain control but he's a mess, unprotected sex, they almost get caught, oral sex (female receiving), hand job (hardly), he cums on his own, he cums untouched once, they're very mean (´‸`), desperate sex, just read it
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ! ! !
a/n ~ please enjoy! mwa ᯓᡣ𐭩
You fight for your kingdom. You fight for its treasure which thousands have fallen to protect. You fight for your precious life, and that is why you are regarded with the highest rank and greatest respect.
Because you fight for the kingdom’s treasure.
Because you are the kingdom’s treasure.
Your men don’t know you’re the princess that they are meant to die for. Your enemies don’t know you are not the general they desire to kill with every fiber of their being and dignity as a soldier.
It is your greatest amusement, watching your enemies fall at your feet with such hatred in their glare at the one thing they desire so greatly.
You are the princess of the northern kingdom. Your skin is cold as frostbite, but warm blood streams healthily throughout their vessels. Your hair is white as the snow leopard which hides deep within your icy soul. You are a beauty, and you have the one thing all men wish to obtain. Immortality.
Although that term is very misleading, it is more or less true. You are gifted with everlasting youth and health until you die by a sword to your frozen heart. You have the ability to give any one being your gift.
Your northern kingdom wishes to let you live as any princess would until you pass peacefully. They believe immortality should not be brought upon any man or woman. Again, they do not realize it isn’t quite immortality. Nonetheless, the four kingdoms are at constant war, fighting to obtain the princess or protect the princess from the wrong hands.
“Where are your men?”
You don’t turn your head, your eyes focused on pulling your warm gloves over your bruised hands. You recognize his voice, the man whom you happen to come across at least once a week in battle. He’s a general from the east, dressed in complete black from his long, bunned hair to his horse.
“I’m on vacation today,” you say softly, leaning back on your hands as you peek over at him. “Didn’t you hear? The princess died. Fight’s over.”
He huffs a laugh, smiling as he glances over at the entrance to the cave you’re resting in, sitting atop your beautiful white horse.
“Your men are missing as well,” you point out, eyeing the entrance. There’s no commotion or presence. He’s alone.
“I came here to rest,” he says.
“I doubt that,” you sigh. “Did you follow me here? Think I’d undress? Per-”
“I think it’s time one of us dies,” he interrupts. “Men are falling at our sides and yet here we stand unharmed. We must fall alone for the sake of what will come of this war.”
You tilt your head. How virtuous. “And what if you fall?”
“So be it,” he answers confidently. “But I will not.”
“I don’t think you understand why I’m so good at what I do, Park Seonghwa,” you whisper. Your tiny voice echoes throughout the cave, and your footsteps bounce from the walls as you dismount your horse.
He comes down to your level, his boots clacking softly against the wet rock. He towers over you, but he doesn’t look so intimidating off of his stallion. He reaches out and taps your helmet curiously.
“Is it this?” he asks. “You hiding something under there?”
You smile softly. “Let’s fight to the death,” you say. “Then we’ll find out.”
Seonghwa overpowers you with his pure strength, but you have an immaculate technique to counter. He’s good with his sword, but he’s so predictable. It’d almost be boring if not for his constantly trying to run at you and put you down. What kind of strategy is that? It’s pathetic. I guess he’s trying to use your weakness, but, really, let’s be serious.
But brute strength and better technique do balance out a little more than you’d like. It’s been hours of back-and-forth jabs and deep slices, and you’re both bleeding puddles onto the rocky cave ground. You’re panting, bent over as you clutch your trembling arm. You’ve lost your sword at this point, your fist curled tight as if you could deal a punch on this man while you weren’t about to pass out.
Seonghwa isn’t much better, but he’s standing tall, his sword snapped in two at his feet. He’s dripping streams of blood from his limbs, but he puffs his chest out in a laugh. He takes a trembling step forward, his expression remaining calm despite the tremors of his limbs. He reaches out slowly, and you can’t find it in you to stop him.
As your helmet crashes to the floor, the metal clanking and echoing aggressively until it rolls to a stop, your hair falls into its natural place, covering your face from his faltering gaze. His fingers gently touch a strand, slowly following it to its tip without disturbing its soft delicacy.
“You understand now?” you choke out, trying to hide your fear. Seeing what you desire most practically in your hands could drive a man mad. Fuck technique, he could take you right now, and you won’t be able to stop him. It’ll all be over.
“I understand,” he says quietly. You lift your head in choppy, trembling movements. “Your kingdom does not understand your gift’s beauty, so they have thrown you to the one place where you can die.”
You clench your jaw. He’s hardly holding your hair between his fingers with any determination, but it feels like a tight leash. You can’t back away. “You don’t understand, then,” you say.
“Princess.”
Your leg shoots up to his face, and he grabs your calf, a deep scowl running over his soft features. He pushes your leg away, but you push harder until he slams into the ground. He grips your hair, pulling you with him with a harsh tug, and you immediately slam your hands into his throat, sitting your knees on the deep slashes on his arms. You dig your broken fingers into his neck, his eyes wide and arms useless. He grits his teeth, desperate to breathe as he squirms under you. His eyes never leave yours, his pupils contracted to thin slits of livid warning. As you eye the shards of his sword, preparing to end this once and for all, you hear a roar of footsteps coming from outside the cave.
You grunt, throwing yourself away from him and sprinting further into the cave. You hear him cough and gasp, stumbling pathetically behind you as you escape into the darkness.
You’ve been hiding behind a waterfall for hours. It’s cold, your clothes soaked in blood and mist from the splash of the water. You’re far from the cave, having found a small hole to escape from. You’re hidden carefully where no one should find you.
And you don’t know what to do.
You’re cold and hungry. You’re too cautious to go out to find food. You’re too injured to move much anyway. You’ve wrapped up your cuts with strips of fabric from your clothes, but that’s all you can do. Your satchel is back with your horse. You think you should call for help. But… What if Seonghwa was right? Your kingdom had always expressed their hatred for your gift. You had wanted to be a soldier since you were young, but… normally kingdoms don’t let their princesses go to war, do they?
You sigh, resting your head against the damp rock behind you. “I don’t know,” you mumble, gazing out through the gentle stream of water at the entrance to the cave.
You hardly hear the gentle rustling of the flowers beside the pond, but you quickly scoot yourself deeper into the darkness when you see two black boots appear. It’s Seonghwa.
“Are you kidding me?” you say through tightly gritted teeth.
He’s standing there, but he doesn’t look like he sees you. He looks calm, eyes gazing at the soft ripples of the water. His hair rests gently against his neck, wavy and thick, almost reaching his shoulders. He runs his rough fingers through the top, ruffling it lightly. He won’t see you. He’s off guard now. He’s alone.
You sit up slightly. He’s alone, off guard. You should kill him. You look around with your eyes without making any sudden movement. There’s hardly anything around you. No loose rocks or sticks. It’s all just… You spot a sharp rock from you. He’ll definitely see you. There’s no way you can reach it without him seeing you. Anyway, there’s no way you could muster the strength to crawl over there. You’re involuntarily limp. You should just pray he leaves. Don’t get into a fight.
But you eye him and start to panic when you spot him dipping his bare feet in the water, his shirt gone, and his hands working at the strings of his pants. How did he get undressed so quickly?? Is he seriously going to bathe in the middle of his enemy’s land??
He pauses, though, and you nearly breathe a sigh of relief, your shoulders releasing their tension slowly. His muscles and scars flex as he turns slightly, his head tilting back into a small roll, stretching his stiff neck. He looks tired, his lips parted softly, eyes closed gently. He’s certainly doing better than you, but you definitely made him too weak to fight for a while. He lets out a soft sigh, and your ears perk up at the sound, the slight vocalization of his low voice rumbling gently through his chest.
“Princess…”
Your ears fall, your expression blank. You don’t breathe, don’t think.
“Let me treat your wounds,” he says, tilting his head forward as he eyes the stream of water protecting you from his view. Or perhaps not.
But you remain still. Why would you go out? Even if it’s petty, you won’t give up. Even if it’s useless, you shouldn’t just hand yourself over.
“Or will you watch me undress and bathe like a pervert?” he asks, and it gains him a scurry of trembling legs against the slippery cave floor.
You’re not just giving yourself to him… He’s going to heal you, and then you’ll run away. You won’t fight him. You won’t let him take you. You’ll run far…
You can hardly climb down onto the soft grass, and you land harshly on your hands. Your arms fail to prop you up, so your face lies against the fluff of the damp green. He’s slow and cool as he walks over to you, kneeling beside you. He doesn’t touch you or say anything. He gazes at you for a second, your white locks stained by the puddles of your blood. Your bandages have done nothing to stop your bleeding.
His fingers graze your hair before he lifts your head slightly. You groan, your head pounding as he lays it atop a soft fabric.
“Just lay here,” he says quietly. “I will take care of your wounds.”
His touch is so delicate. As much as you want to push him away, you want to pull him closer and have him caress your poor body like this forever. As much as you want to run away, you want to sink into the grass and fall asleep to his gentle breaths.
Your eyes open drowsily, hardly able to roll back into place, as you’re surrounded by warm, gentle water. The lake envelops your stinging limbs, and it numbs the feeling that you’re so used to. It should enhance the pain, and yet you feel weightless, skinless, boundless, yet still calm and sleepy.
“I used an ointment from the east,” he says below his breath, so quietly. “It’s very efficient,” he takes a soft breath, “and it’s lovely.” His voice is beside your ear, and you know his body is touching yours in familiar, intimate ways. But his voice is enchanting, lulling you to a hazy clarity of calm. “Are you hungry, princess?” he asks.
One of his arms wraps around your waist, which is bare, as his skin directly slides along yours. Your cushion is his lap, but that is clothed as it should be. As he reaches for a basket along the grass beside the water, his chest leans further against your back. You gaze down with a warm, slow breath. Your chest is covered. He’s a kind monster at least.
“Here,” he says, holding a container of fresh water up for you to take. Your hands tremble but can hardly move. Your head tilts to the side in a weak frustration. Your head is so fuzzy. It doesn’t hurt any longer, but you can’t seem to take control of any of your movements. Perhaps you’ve lost far too much blood. “Princess,” he whispers, and you hum in weak acknowledgment. With a sigh, he brings the container to your lips, but you can hardly form any shape with them, and the water flows quickly to the pond beneath the target. He takes it away with a soft grumble. Then, he brings it to his own lips, takes a small sip, and his other hand lifts your chin gently.
His lips barely touch yours, just slightly to open your wide enough for the water to pass through. When he leans away, his fingers close your jaw, and you swallow weakly, your brows knitted together in relief as your horrible thirst is finally starting to be quenched.
He takes another sip and repeats, his head tilting slightly in something you would hardly call a kiss. But as you swallow, the sharp pain in your throat begging for more, your useless fingers claw gently at his side, and he pauses in his tracks, his eyes searching for what’s wrong. You can’t speak. You need more. He needs to hurry.
Your head trembles as you lift it slightly. “M-more,” you mumble. You should just drink it yourself. Fuck, you need more.
He hurries to take another sip, and you meet him in the middle, smashing your lips against his. His body lifts a little as you push forward. You swallow the water quickly, and he tries to go away, but he’s going too fucking slow. Your lips move desperately against his, your throat burning with need.
“P-Princess,” he gasps, turning his head away quickly. He grabs the container and takes a larger sip, bringing it back, and you’re on top of him before he can turn completely. Your wounds are healing fast with this lovely ointment, and your hands can finally move as you grab the back of his neck and pull his lips down onto yours. There’s more this time, and you swallow hard, pushing your tongue into his mouth to find whatever you can before he has to leave again. “There’s-” he gasps, “no- more-”
Your fingers slide through his damp hair, soft and thick against your rough hands. He’s curled over you, your back arched as you pull him desperately closer. Fuck, you’re hardly even thirsty anymore. His taste, his gasps, his vulnerability, and his kindness. You need more. As your fingers slide through his hair, he groans softly. It probably feels good. Someone like him has never felt such love, such care and affection. You want to give it to him so bad. You should repay him for his kindness.
You break away, panting and flushed. His eyes are hooded, his lips puffy as he leans toward you. His cheeks are a light pink, hair disheveled. What a beautiful sight.
Your lips find his jaw, feeling it clench as you trail soft pecks down to his neck. His skin is soft here, untouched. You nibble lightly on the skin and listen to his gentle shiver as you give kitten licks to ease the sting. You graze your teeth against him as you open wider, teasing the skin as you press lightly down. His hands slide across your thighs, squeezing them as he lifts his chin a little more, giving you more access.
Thumping footsteps make both of you jump, and a deep, obnoxious voice calls out, “Seonghwa!” He pushes your head harshly under the surface, and everything else is muffled for you. His hands quickly gather your hair and hold your strands tightly so they won’t float everywhere.
You open your eyes slowly, listening intently to the voices above. Seonghwa is looking behind him, speaking, but you can’t make anything out. You won’t die or anything, but, if you run out of air, you’ll pass out. You really don’t want to deal with that right now.
Pressing your lips together tightly, you lower your eyes to his body to occupy your mind while you wait. Fuck, his bare, hard chest and defined stomach sitting right in front of you... He should really thank you for this body. Fuck, he’s beautiful. Really, it’s because of you he’s had to train so hard.
His… oh…? You raise a brow as your eyes land on his crotch. He’s wearing black briefs, his thighs thick and hard, but not harder than his cock. The bulge is big and hard to miss, straining against the fabric. It doesn’t leave much of anything to the imagination. The tip is outlined, the shape of him defined in detail just for you. How is he so worked up from a few innocent kisses?
You glance up, and he’s taking his sweet time talking to those men. You’re going to run out of air soon, but this fucker doesn’t care, does he? He thinks because you’re immortal you can just sit under water like it’s nothing.
You huff, a small bubble of air floating to the surface, and you grab his cock. He jumps, his hand tightening around your hair and pulling lightly in warning. But you don’t let go. He’ll get them out of here, or his dick is gonna fall off.
It’s heavy in your hand, though still covered by the fabric. You wonder how thick it’d feel out of the water, just resting in your hand. You wonder how he’d sound if you gripped it hard and stroked him until he came with a pathetic whine. You swallowed hard, feeling it pulse in your grip.
Feeling newly frustrated, you look up, and he’s still talking. What the fuck is there to even say? You grit your teeth and grab the band of his briefs, pulling them down until his cock slowly comes out, floating to hit against his stomach. He pulls more harshly on your hair, and you groan. It doesn’t hurt underwater. Everything feels numb and weightless. It just tickles a little. Maybe it’s because you’re losing air, and your head is feeling foggy, but you want to push him further. You want him to hurry, but you also want to torture him just a bit.
You wrap your hand around him, your fingers almost able to touch but not quite. He’s so hard, twitching in your hold and shivering as you slowly glide your hand up to the tip. You watch his stomach tense up at every subtle movement. He sinks a bit further into the water as your thumb brushes over the slit. He’s throbbing at this point. Maybe being watched is getting him off. Maybe he likes the thrill of possibly getting caught.
You stroke him slowly, feeling every vein and unique shape, mesmerized by how his entire body shudders when you do something he likes. Fuck, you want to hear him. He’s so stern and confident, but, look at him, he’s trembling just for you.
You stroke him a little faster, your air running thin quicker and quicker and time moves fast. He grabs your wrist, and suddenly, you’re lifted from the water.
You gasp for air, coughing and taking long, deep breaths. He pats your back as you grasp his shoulders, wiping at your eyes as you try to see again. Fuck, your head hurts. That was close. You really thought you would pass out there.
“Fuck, Seo-” He grabs your body and lifts you over his shoulder. Your upper body hands against his back as he holds you there by your thighs. Your wet hair dangles into the water, floating along the surface like a spider’s web. “What are you-!”
He grabs the waistband of your pants and pulls them down, discarding them somewhere, and suddenly your ass feels very fucking cold. You squeak pathetically as his hand digs into your flesh, his fingers slipping slightly into the wetness of your core.
“Since you seem to like games like this, we should keep playing, right?” he practically growls. You feel a thick finger slowly slide through your slick, and you shiver. It slips through your soaked lips and teases your hole before moving away completely. “Who knows who might come and see us, princess?” he says, his voice low and thick with anger.
You try to spout something back, but he slams two fingers into your hole, and a long, pathetic moan is all you can utter. Your legs try to spread wider, but they can’t move, and it makes everything so tight. Fuck, he’s ramming his fingers against your walls, and you tremble, your moans airy as you struggle to breathe and absorb the pleasure at the same time.
“Someone could be watching right now,” he says. “Maybe it’s your men. They’ll watch their great general cum on their enemy’s fingers.”
His teeth graze your side before biting down on your flesh. You whimper, his every word and- No, no, what the fuck are you doing? You let him have his way as soon as he gave you something good. You groan as you reach into the water and search until you find his cock. You grab it tightly, and his pace falters.
“Princess,” he warns, but both of you stop as soon as you hear a slight rustling in the woods.
Your body is slammed into the water, and he follows right behind this time. He urges you to swim toward the waterfall, and you get there before him, pulling him to the surface quickly, and his hand wraps around your mouth as you go to say something.
“I swear I saw her come this way!” a young man shouts. “Look! She must have been here!” He must be pointing to Seonghwa’s bag, which was beside the river.
Seonghwa is pressed against you, your back to the rock path which you had been resting on before he found you. The cave is dark and silent as you both listen intently.
“She’s most certainly been captured,” a deep, nasty voice declares. You know that voice all too fucking well, and your eyes grow wide. The king. “Follow the river to the northern kingdom. It is where she must be!”
There are too many footsteps to count as his army does as they’re told. Everything goes silent again, and you release the breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. You should have called out for them, but it hardly even crossed your mind. Why?
Turning back to Seonghwa here, you don’t even care about going home.
Neither of you even question it. You don’t care.
He lifts you onto the rock and spreads your legs, your hips right against the edge. His warm breath fans over your thighs as he gazes into your eyes. Your cheeks are so hot despite the cool air against your wet skin, and you lean back onto your hands with a soft sigh. You watch as his gaze fixes on your pussy, a low groan tingling your ears.
One of your hands comes to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses your inner thigh softly. His lips press against your slick, and you whimper, biting your lip as his brows lift at the taste of you. His eyes roll to a close, his tongue licking a thick strip from your hole to your clit, and you tremble, your ears twitching as the wet sounds of him against you are enhanced by the cave walls.
His hands grip your thighs as he sighs, his lips moving like a kiss against your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit and tasting your sweet slick desperately.
“Fuck ngh~” you whine, your hips grinding against his tongue. “S-Seonghwa, Seonghwa~” Your words are airy and slurred, your eyes shaking as they roll to the back of your head with every suck and lick against your clit. His breathing is getting heavier, and you notice the lack of one of his hands on you. “Seonghwa, Seonghwa, sstop, I’ll h-hellp yoou,” you mumble, pushing his head away, but he doesn’t move. His lips move faster, his tongue burying deep in your hole, and your back falls to the rock, your legs trembling as he fucks your soaked hole with his tongue. “Hhwa, Seonghwa mm~ Hwa, llet me, pleease,” you beg, feeling his rhythm pick up, the heat and pleasure building quickly. “No, no,” you whine, a tear slipping down your burning cheek. “I’m gonna cum, fuck, Seonghwa.” You grind your pussy against his lips as your body trembles in pure ecstasy. You let out a desperate moan as he flicks his tongue over your clit, riding out your orgasm until you’re limp, shaking under him.
“Good girl,” he mumbles, leaving a peck on you as he backs away.
“Shut the fuck up,” you growl, grabbing his hair. You sit up, closing your legs with a huff. “Fuck me. Right now.” His eyes grow a little wide, and you quirk a brow. “What’s wrong? Did you already cum?” He doesn’t answer, and you tug on his hair harder. “All on your own?” You laugh in disbelief. “Get out of the water.”
He climbs onto the rock, and you push him onto his back, straddling his lap. Suddenly he’s so quiet. Suddenly his dick isn’t a hard, throbbing mess. You scoff, gripping him and pressing your pussy against him. He groans, his brows furrowed as you grind slowly.
“That wasn’t very nice of you, Seonghwa,” you spit, humming softly at the little bits of pleasure your clit gets. “Especially toward a princess.” You feel him growing harder in your grip, and you smile. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
He’s silent, his soft breaths the only answer.
“Of course, not,” you say. “Cumming all on your own. I didn’t even get to see your pretty face.” You reach out and push back the little hairs covering his eyes. You grab his chin harshly and pull him toward you. You smash your lips against his, grinding your hips harder as you feel him grow stiff. He whimpers against your mouth, his hands grabbing your hips and trying to still you, so you drop him with a huff. He groans as his head hits the floor, but before he can recover, you're lining his dick up to your hole.
“P-Princess,” he whimpers, his eyes rolling back as you sink onto his thick cock. Your lips puff out as you stifle a moan, his tip rubbing just the right spot, so deep inside you. You place your hands on his chest, your head hanging as you get used to the stretch.
“Y/n,” you whisper, afraid your voice will fail you if you try to speak. “Say my name,” you whine, “please, say my name, fuck ngh~”
His cock twitches as he suppresses the need to thrust into your tight, soaked hole. “Y/n,” he gasps as you lift your hips slowly and drop back down. “Y/n, y/n, princess, do that again, fuck~”
As you lift your hips again and slam them back down, you collapse onto his chest with a soft cry. You let your hips do the work, your mouth devouring his as you fuck yourself on his cock. His hands grip your hips, pushing you down faster when you lift up. He wants to melt into you, this feeling making his entire body shudder with pleasure. His cock rubs against your walls and hits you just right, and you’re literally drooling into his mouth as you moan his name.
“Y/n, Y/n! Y/n, baby, you’re so tight,” he moans. “Are you gonna cream on my cock for me, princess? Come on, I know you’re close.” He plants his feet and grabs your hips, thrusting up into your pussy as you slam down. He picks up the pace and your head falls to his chest, your body limp as he fucks you desperately. “Come on,” he begs. “I’m gonna cum~” He hiccups. “Together, baby, come on, please~” He bites your shoulder as he tries to stop his moans, but his voice only gets louder as his thick, warm cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back as you feel him stuff you full, but it’s just not enough to make you cum. You can’t see his beautiful face.
So you lift off of his cock, his cum spilling out of you quickly, and you straddle his head, sitting your pussy against his lips. You watch his hazy eyes spill soft tears as he laps at you, drinking his own cum and your sweet slick. It doesn’t take much as he fucks you on his tired tongue, your pussy grinding on him at your own pace, for you to cum, whimpering and gasping as your body shakes with bliss. You watch him tremble as his cock spurts again, his face contorting beautifully just like you’d wanted to see.
You sit beside him and admire his beauty, completely limp on the rocky floor. He’s wet with tears and cum, and his stomach is messy with his release.
You lean down and lick from his stomach to his soft cock, cleaning his cum off of his body. He shivers gently until you’re done, and you lay beside him.
Your clothes have all dried, the sun warm against your skin as you both lay in the grass. There’s a comfortable yet questioning silence in the air. What now?
“I don’t think I want to go home,” you say, gazing at the thin clouds and gentle sway of the trees.
Your answer is obvious. You want to live freely. But you know there’s no possibility of that ever happening. You know, whether you go home, where you’re resented for your gift, or go with Seonghwa, where you are desired for your gift, you will never be free.
“You were right. What you said when we had our duel.” He quirks a brow. “They sent me out to die.”
“Shall we just kill the northern king, then?”
You whip your head toward him, his smile teasing as he gazes at you.
“You’re joking,” you sigh, turning away.
“I’m not.” He sits up with a small grunt. “Let’s take over the northern kingdom.”
“Hell no,” you spit, propping yourself up on your hands. “Seonghwa, you're an eastern general. I’m not starting shit with you.”
“So what do you want?”
He looks at you silently. There isn’t a word in his eyes, and it forces you to think. What the fuck have you been doing your whole life besides killing to protect your fucking immortal gift? And the northern king refuses to use it. He wants you and your gift dead, but… what do you want?
“I want the fighting to stop,” you say. “I want men to stop dying for their greed.”
“What do you want, princess?” he asks again. “Forget your gift. What do you want?”
You glance down at your clothes, dirty and old. A man’s clothes which you never really wanted to wear. The thrill of the battlefield is what keeps you moving, but you’ve always desired what could’ve been without your immortality.
“Shall we?” you mumble, gazing up at Seonghwa. “Shall we just kill him?”
a/n ~ thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thoughttt~ ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू)
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The Proposal AU! (part two)
Summary: when your boss Agatha faces the threat of deportation, she convinces you to marry her in return for a promotion- and things only get more complicated with a trip to Salem, an eccentric tarot-card-reading aunt, and a homophobic mother to convince.
Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader
TW: deportation (which I admit I know very little about I'm not American lol) suggestive themes, sort of arranged marriage
W.C: roughly 1.3k words
PARTS: ONE, THREE
“There’s no way this is going to work.” You said, bouncing your leg underneath the table, finding it the only outlet for the sickening anxiety weighing down upon you.
To your left, Agatha was scrolling on her phone, nonchalant and entirely unaffected by your panic.
Realising you weren’t going to get a response; you allowed your gaze to travel across the room. It was barren, impersonal and imposing. The chair opposite was currently empty as you waited for someone to arrive. Who, you weren’t quite sure. You really didn’t understand anything about this entire process, and you silently prayed that Agatha did.
Agatha, who was infuriatingly casual about the whole thing. It wouldn’t surprise you if she didn’t understand the process, if she was just winging it- if she had dragged you into all this just to torture you. In an attempt to pass the time, you tried racking your brains for something you might’ve done wrong recently. A coffee order you had messed up, a report you had forgotten to submit, a mistake you might’ve made with her calendar. Yet, nothing came to mind.
Out of the corner of your eye, you looked Agatha up and down. Her coat was neatly folded over the back of the chair that she was slumped in, rather ungracefully you noted. She was wearing a purple jumper with a broach pinned to the collar, one you had never seen her without. You had always longed to ask her whether there was some meaning behind it, but knew better than to expect a genuine answer.
You glanced up at her face, framed by strands of dark brown hair falling from a messy bun, and watched as she chewed on her lip. Now this was a habit you hadn’t noticed before.
“Are you nervous?” You interrogated after spending a second longer staring at her lips than was socially acceptable.
“Why would I be? She murmured, not bothering to look up from her phone. “I have my gorgeous fiancé here with me.”
You sighed, willing her to show one ounce of normal human emotion and opening your mouth to refute.
“Well, isn’t that just lovely to hear.”
Both you and Agatha jumped in your seats at the sound of a foreign voice.
The man rounded the desk, dressed in a perfectly tailored, colourless suit. He had neatly combed grey hair and an impassive expression. “Lovely to meet you both.” He said, routinely taking his seat opposite. “I’m Tyler Hayward and I’ll be handling your case Miss…” the man’s eyes travelled across the file already opened on his desk. “Miss Harkness.” He finished, smiling up at you both coldly.
“Pleasures all mine.” Agatha smirked, tucking her phone away to pay the man full attention.
Finding your mouth suddenly dry, you nodded with a grimace that you hoped came across more like a smile.
“So, I have one question.” Hayward clasped his hands together, eyes darting between you both before landing specifically on you. He licked his lips, prolonging the tense silence, then finally, “Are you committing fraud to avoid her deportation so that she may keep her position at the company you work at?”
Right then and there, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating.
“That’s insane!” Agatha exclaimed, faking outrage as she slammed her palm down onto the desk- ever one for the dramatics. “The audacity to even suggest such a thing!”
You looked over at Hayward, seeing the glint in his otherwise frigid composure. You knew this was the kind of reaction he had hoped for, fake or not, and while this kind of intimidation tactic worked for Agatha with incompetent employees, it wouldn’t work on this occasion. She was doing herself no favours in trying to sell this sham marriage, and any remaining hope you held that she had a plan immediately went out the window.
“How dare you, we’re in love!” Agatha continued. “And I do not appreciate those kinds of insinuations that-“
“Hey, hold on now, love.” You intervened, ignoring how unnatural it felt to be referring to your boss in such a way. “He’s just doing his job.” Swallowing back your discomfort, you reached over to place a soothing hand on Agatha’s thigh, trying to ignore the way her skin radiated warmth through the layer of fabric. “But no, Mr Hayward, there is nothing fraudulent about the way I feel for Agatha. Unconventional, maybe. But definitely real.” You said through gritted teeth, attempting to force as much affection into your gaze as you could.
Which was especially hard with the way Agatha was staring back at you: a mixture of impressed, confused, and suggestive…
“My apologies.” Agatha said, placing her hand over yours. “I just get upset when people make assumptions about my personal life.”
“I understand that.” Hayward nodded, pulling your attention away from Agatha and back to him. “And you’re right it is unconventional for a relationship between an employer and employee. How, might I ask, does the company feel about this? I’m surprised they would allow such a relationship.” He inquired, though his curiosity wasn’t genuine. He knew that it wouldn’t be permitted, that this was a glaring flaw in your non-existent plan.
“The truth is…” You began, swallowed hard and thought desperately about how to respond. “Agatha and I… we’re just two people who weren’t supposed to fall in love… but did.” You shrugged, pretending as though you were reliving such great hardships. “And we couldn’t tell anyone we work with... As you pointed out, it would be deeply inappropriate.”
You smiled sadly, praying that Agatha would jump in so you wouldn’t have to monologue any longer. Each word you worried over, just waiting for you to slip up and have Hayward jump in and arrest you for fraud. You could practically feel the handcuffs around your wrists now, the cold metal tight against your skin, cutting into your flesh, constricting your movement. You felt your heart start to pound, your palms start to sweat.
Agatha must’ve felt you tensing up, as suddenly, you felt her thumb begin to trace soothing patterns against the top of your hand. Round and round. Real and yet ever so gentle. The soft contact drew you back into the moment, back to her.
Back to Hayward…
“So, no co-workers will be able to vouch for you.” He looked down at his file, grabbed a pen and scribbled something down. “What about family? Have the two of you told your parents about this forbidden love?” He questioned, narrow-eyed and mocking.
“Oh, I…” You grit your teeth together, sucking in a lungful of air as you pondered how this would look. “My parents are out of the country right now.”
“Of course they are.” Hayward chuckled maliciously, jotting more down on his form.
“Well, my mother is actually on a road trip through the country with some… other relatives.” Agatha chimed in, regaining Hayward’s attention. “In fact, we were planning on joining up with them in Salem this weekend to share the wonderful news.”
“We were?” You asked before you could stop yourself.
“Oh yeah, how could you forget, sweetheart?” She fake-reprimanded. “It’s Aunt Lilia’s big sixtieth birthday road trip, the whole family’s coming together to surprise her.”
“Right…” You nodded along, though you couldn’t rid yourself of the frown adorning your face. You recognised what Agatha was doing. She was overcompensating, but she was only going to complicate this arrangement even further.
“How lovely.” Hayward drawled. “I suppose you’ll both be travelling up tomorrow then?”
“That we will.” Agatha gulped, your eyes tracing the movement of her throat.
You turned back to Hayward and met his evident annoyance with a smile, one more genuine. You didn’t like the man. You wanted to prove him wrong...
“I for one can’t wait!”
NEXT PART
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daddy dearest
pairing : dilf!jeonghan x collegestudent!reader
content : smut (mdni or else!!)
in which : meeting the father of your project partner and new friend didn’t go how you planned, but hey, you’re not complaining
warnings : age gap (jeonghan is in his early 40s, reader is in their early 20s), reader has female anatomy, cursing, dom/sub dynamics, (kinda? i think?) begging, oral (jh giving), teasing, (dirty talk, praise, degradation) pet names (jeonghan calls reader princess, baby, slut, good girl/reader calls jeonghan sir, mr. yoon), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap)
wc : 4.6k words
note : omg my first fic on here
part 2
You trudged into your last class of the day, completely exhausted and overwhelmed. The week has been full of nothing but exams, presentations, and essays. Midterms were even worse in college than they were than when you were in high school. Just thinking about it makes you wish you could go back to writing essays that were five-hundred words instead of five pages.
All you wanted to do was get through this class with a simple task, or, maybe if you were lucky, just a lecture along with some note taking. After all, for the past week your professor hasn’t made you write pages upon pages or cram weeks worth of information into your head for a test that he could spring on you at any day.
Unfortunately, luck has never been your best friend.
Your professor beckoned you to his desk where he was organizing various stacks of papers. “Good afternoon [Y/n]. Ah, here, take one of these.” He said, handing you a—somewhat thick—packet. You looked down and flipped through it, slightly dumbfounded with the amount of pages it contained.
“Uh, sir, what is this?” You asked. He chuckled a little and shook his head.
“Your midterm project. The packet contains all the details, now as for your partner…” The man scanned the still somewhat empty lecture hall before his eyes landed on someone sitting in the back. “Ah! You’ll be with the girl back there.”
You turned around, looking to the back to try and find the “girl back there” he was mentioning. Your eyes landed on a girl who you don’t think you be ever seen or talked to before with her attention completely focused on her laptop as she rapidly typed away at her keyboard.
“Um, okay, thanks,” You mumbled to your professor before making your way to the back of the hall and towards your partner. Now that you were close enough, you actually managed to recognize her.
Iseul was always a bit quiet. She always sat in the back of the lecture hall, always typing away on her laptop. She always wore clothes that fit loosely on her and kept her hair in a bun or a ponytail, which would have gotten old if the styles didn’t work so well to show off her gorgeous cheekbones. You wondered who her parents were, because damn those genes had to be strong. When you thought about yourself, the two of you were pretty much complete opposites. You got sat close to the front and talked to anyone that would bother to listen. You dressed up every day and spent careful time on your hair, and wow, you were really getting jealous of those cheekbones.
“Hi,” You greeted her with a friendly smile. “You’re Iseul, right? I’m [Y/n]. We’re supposed to be partners for this project.”
Iseul looked up at you, a faint smile on her face as she nodded. “Uh, yeah. Hi. Oh, sorry, please sit,” she grabbed her bag from the chair next to her and placed it on the ground. You sat down next to her, placing your bag down on the ground in front of you.
“So, have you looked over the project yet? Is it a lot? Please say no…” You asked her, mumbling the last part. By now, she had turned her attention back to her laptop, but she laughed when you asked that. If you were being honest, you didn’t think you could bring yourself to flip through all those pages without breaking down in tears.
“It isn’t too much. Just a powerpoint and a short essay to go along with it. I don’t think it should take too long…” Iseul trailed off, preoccupied with flipping through the packet and typing.
To your surprise, you got along with Iseul better than you thought. She seemed enthusiastic to hear your ideas and responded earnestly, the two of you bouncing your ideas off of each other until you finally came up with something you both agreed on. While she got started on the written portion, you had taken decided on doing the powerpoint. You got along with her so well that when class had ended, you couldn’t stop a pout from forming on your lips.
“Is something wrong?” Iseul asked, a slight look of worry showing on her face. “Is there a problem with the project? Should we revise?”
“No, everything’s fine. I just…” Still pounting, you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. “I need your number. So that we can keep up with the project and…‘cause we should be friends.”
And in an instant, Iseul’s face brightened, and she nodded. She typed her phone number into your phone and smiled at you. “I’ll..um, text you later. About the project, okay?”
You smiled back, picking up your bag and walking to the door before the two of you went your separate ways. As much as you had enjoyed Iseul and her company today in class, you really couldn’t wait to get back to your dorm to shower and get a little rest before the weekend. Oh, you couldn’t wait for the weekend
Right. You wouldn’t have time to even enjoy it because you would be working on that stupid project. Damn your professor.
The weekend went by in a flash, much to your disappointment, and the last thing you wanted was to return to your classes. Of course, the project for your early childhood development class—which was the class your project was due in—wasnt due until next week, but you had still been dreading it. However, when you got there, you were greeted with an empty classroom.
Confused, you called Iseul, who picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, Iseul, where is everyone? Why’s the class empty?”
“Oh, didn’t you read the email? He said he won’t be there for a while. Something about the stomach flu, and blah blah blah, a bunch of other personal stuff.”
You smiled. Karma was real.
“By the way,” She continued. “I’m staying at my dad’s house this week. Do you think you could come here so we can work on the project today? I’ll send you the address.”
“Sure. I’ll be there soon.”
Iseul was outside before you could even exit your Uber, still in her pajamas and with her hair down instead of up. Now that you were seeing it like this, you were surprised with just how long it was. She greeted you at the door with a smile and led you inside.
You couldn’t stop your mouth from falling open as you took in your surroundings. “Woah, Iseul, you live here? What’s the deal, are your parents like…”
“Parents?” She asked. “No, no, it’s just my dad. And he’s a model, he has been since he was younger.”
This caught your interest.
“Who’s your dad?”
Iseul brought her hand to her mouth, nervously biting on one of her fingernails. “Well, he’s—”
In that moment, one of the doors opened to reveal possibly the most gorgeous man you think you’ve ever seen. He was taller than both you and Iseul, but there was a bigger gap between the two of you as opposed to him and Iseul. His hair cascaded down the sides of his face and down his neck. And he had the same gorgeous cheekbones as Iseul.
So this was where she got it from. Iseul was Yoon Jeonghan’s daughter.
“Ah..hey dad.” Iseul said, pulling her hand away from her mouth. “Oh, this is [Y/n], from school. She’s my partner for that project I was talking about.”
The man nodded at Iseul, shifting his gaze from her over to you. His gaze felt so intense, you couldn’t help but squirm as his eyes looked over you, taking you in.
“Hello Mr. Yoon.” You greeted him with a smile and a short bow, silently wishing he would take his eyes off of you because it was making you more nervous than you would’ve liked. He nodded slowly, looking you over one more time before turning down the hall and disappearing deeper into the house. Iseul grabbed your hand and dragged you to her room.
“Sorry about that, I was about to tell you, but he’s got this habit of just…appearing, so…” Iseul’s apology came out quickly and a bit hushed as she threw herself onto her bed. She sighed. “I should’ve told you earlier.”
“Don’t apologize, it’s really fine.” Iseul was relieved that you didn’t seem as shaken as she thought you would’ve been. With a nod, she smiled at you and patted the space on the bed next to her.
“Okay, we should get to work, we’re almost done with the project.”
With much reluctance, you settled onto the bed next to her and opened your laptop. Iseul may have been your friend, but you wanted nothing more than a break from this project. After this, you never wanted to hear or see the word project ever again.
God, you weren’t sure which you hated more, this project (honestly though, you really did hate this project) or your brain.
As much as you wanted to focus and finish as quickly as you could, you just kept getting distracted with thoughts of Jeonghan. It’s not like you wanted to keep thinking of him, especially when you were just meeting him for the first time, but he was just so much more breathtaking in person than you could have imagined. Those magazines did not do him justice. You got hot just thinking about it—about him.
You couldn’t take it any more. “Iseul, um…where’s the kitchen? I really need some water.”
“Oh, uh,” Iseul sat up, climbing out of the bed and walking to the door, “Right down the hall and then it’s through the first door on the left.”
“Thanks.” You smile before practically running out of her room to the kitchen. With a somewhat shaky hand, you pulled open the fridge and grabbed the closest bottled water before shutting the fridge, turning to leave when you froze.
Jeonghan was standing in front of you. And this time, he was closer. Much closer.
Slightly surprised, you took a step backwards. Jeonghan tilted his head to the side and mirrored your actions, taking one step closer. This continued for a short bit with him coming one step closer for every one step you took backwards until he had you backed up against the counter, caging you in place with both arms by your side on the countertop.
“Ah…Hi again, Mr. Yoon.” You said, feeling nervous all over again with how close he was.
“Mmm…you’re just making yourself right at home, aren’t you?” Jeonghan asked. “Taking from my fridge without even asking…”
Your eyes widened, worried you had upset him. “I’m sorry sir, I asked Iseul first, really I would never!”
Jeonghan smirked and shook his head. “Relax baby, I’m only kidding. You can get as comfortable as you want here.” He mumbled, one of his hands moving from the counter to rest on your hip.
You tried to back away, right now you wish that was an option, but between the counter keeping you from moving backwards and Jeonghan’s hand on you, it was a little hard to go anywhere. “Mr. Yoon, what are you doing..?”
“Just…looking. Why, should I stop?”
With every word he spoke Jeonghan inched his face closer and closer to yours until you were only inches apart. His eyes wandered down from your eyes to your lips. You were hoping he wouldn’t lick them, but of course he did.
God, this man would be the death of you.
You turned your head to the side, too shy to meet his gaze. “Sorry sir, I don’t know if…” Your words got lost in your throat as Jeonghan placed his hand under your chin and turned your head back to look at him.
“Now now princess, anything you have to say you can say it to my face.” He said as he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. “God, I really want to kiss you baby. Can I?”
You bit your lip and nodded every so slightly, feeling your heart betray you as it started to beat so fast and loud you would be surprised if it didn’t burst out of your chest right now. You looked down at his lips like he did to you just moments ago before. “Yes, please,” you mumbled. “kiss me.”
That was all it took before Jeonghan closed the last bit of distance between you two, attaching his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you brought your hands away from your sides to tangle them into his soft black hair. Jeonghan lightly but your bottom lip, causing you to let out a moan which allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth. His hand that was on your hip traveled up to hold your waist, while his other hand rested on the nape of your neck to pull you impossibly closer. It all felt so unreal, so intense, it made your head spin and your underwear slick.
Jeonghan pulled away and looked down at you with a faint smile. You looked up at him, still breathless and panting.
“Iseul will probably be getting worried about you by now, huh princess?” He asked, stepping away from you. “You shouldn’t keep her waiting. She tends to worry, you know.” You nodded, still a bit dazed from the kiss and started to walk away, but Jeonghan tugged your hand to stop you, slipping the bottle of water back into your hand with a wink and slipped out of the kitchen and once again disappeared into the house.
By Monday evening, you had said your goodbyes to Iseul (unsure of where her father had went inside that giant house of theirs) and hauled ass back to your dorm to try and get said father off of your mind—it didn’t work. Needless to say, you ended the night with your fingers buried in your pussy with the image of Jeonghan replaying over and over in your mind, you chanting his name like it would bring him out of your fantasies and have him ravage you right here in your dorm room.
By Wednesday morning, you had almost completed your part of the project. Iseul had been finished by Monday night and offered to help, but you insisted on doing it yourself. The more you thought about it though, you were starting to think you should have accepted it.
“You can come over again if you want. I won’t be there until later in the afternoon, but my dad will be there..if that’s okay with you. Once I get there I can help you finish the project.” Iseul said while you two were on the phone.
At her home? Alone? With Jeonghan? No way. Not when he made your heart race and your cunt throb. Not when he had your head spinning after one kiss. Absolutely not. Not happening. Never.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll text you when I get there.”
The Uber ride back to the Yoon house had you clenching your thighs together, recalling the events from Monday. You weren’t sure you could trust yourself to be alone with Jeonghan, but you were hoping you could settle into Iseul’s room and avoid him until she came home and then leave undetected.
You slipped out of the car and into the house with the spare key Iseul had given you and hurrying down the maze of halls and doors to Iseul’s room.
Or what you thought was Iseul’s room.
“Seulie? You’re back early, were your classes cancelled?” Jeonghan asked as he stood over the wide wooden desk in front of him. When he received no response from who he thought was his daughter, he turned around to face you.
“Oh! I’m so sorry sir, I thought this was Iseul’s room. I’ll leave, please forgive me.” Your blurted out as you tried to turn around and leave, but Jeonghan had gently tugged you back by your arm.
“Oh baby, why are you in such a hurry? It’s almost like you don’t want to see me.” He gave you a half-hearted pout. “Don’t you think that hurts my feelings a little bit?”
The look in his eyes and the pout on his face had you melting into his touch and feeling bad. “I’m sorry, Mr. Yoon. That’s not what I wanted to do at all.”
Jeonghan cooed at you and nodded softly, spinning you around and slowly walking you backwards until he had you pressed up against his desk.
You were starting to think he liked seeing you pressed up against random surfaces.
“So pretty, aren’t you baby?” He mumbled, leaning closer and trailing kisses down your jaw and your neck which had you moaning and whining as you reached up to hold onto his shoulders. “Truth be told, I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you since Iseul brought you over on Monday.”
You moaned softly. “Neither have I.”
Jeonghan let out a satisfied hum, rubbing his hands up and down your sides before he slipped them under your shirt and pulled it up over your chest and revealing your lacy white bra. He groaned at the sight and pushed his body closer to yours, bringing his hands to your chest to trace over the details.
“Wow, I didn’t realize my princess was such a little slut.” He said as he reattached his lips to your neck, peppering a few lingering kisses before bringing one of his hands behind your back to unhook your bra. “And who did you wear that for, exactly? Hmm?”
Truth be told, you hadn’t worn it for anyone—especially since you didn’t even plan on being in this situation to begin with—but if you knew how to do anything it was flatter people, so you decided to go with that approach.
“I wore it for you, Mr. Yoon.” You said, looking up at him and batting tour eyelashes. The action had Jeonghan swearing under his breath. He reached forward and patted the desk behind you.
“Lie back, princess.” He instructed. You did so instantly and Jeonghan chuckled at your obedience as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you. and pressed a chaste kiss to your thigh. When you tensed, he pulled himself back. “Relax, I promise I’ll go easy on you. For now.”
Without even giving you the chance to respond, Jeonghan tugged your shorts down, stopping to admire the white panties that matched your bra and the wetness that stained them. He gazed up at you with a smirk before pulling them down as well, relishing in the image of your soaking wet pussy on display for him. “Just as pretty as the rest of you, princess.”
A little embarrassed, you looked away from him and tried to shut your legs, but Jeonghan seemed displeased by that. He forced them open wider with ease and gave you a disapproving look.
“That won’t do. If I’m going to do this, you’ll have to be a good girl for me, understand?” When you nodded, Jeonghan shook his head “Use your words.”
“I understand, sir.”
The corners of his lips turned upwards as he brought his face to your core, kissing and licking gently while his hands soothingly ran his hands up and down the sides of your thighs, relishing in the way you moaned and whimpered and, occasionally, tugged on his hair.
“Oh, shit,” You cried when you felt Jeonghan slip a finger inside you, curling it upwards and hitting that one spot inside you over and over again. “feels so good, sir, please don’t stop.”
The man hummed against your skin, the vibrations making you moan louder than you would’ve liked if you weren’t so close already, and with him adding another finger inside you and sucking on your clit, there was little holding you back.
“Aww, is my princess about to cum?” Jeonghan asked, even though by the way your cunt pulsed around his fingers, you got the sense he wasn’t being sincere. When you nodded, he pressed one last kiss to your clit and pulled himself away from your core.
You whined. “Why..why’d you stop?”
“Believe me princess, I was enjoying myself too,” He muttered, bringing the fingers that were just inside you to his mouth and licking the remnants of your arousal off of them. “But I really don’t want you to cum unless it’s on my cock.” You exhaled shakily, reaching down to feel how hard he had gotten already. He moaned softly, quietly, so faint you wouldn’t have even heard it if you weren’t listening. If he really wanted, he would be fine to continue like this, maybe even get himself off rubbing against your hand, but there was nothing more he wanted right now than to bury himself inside of you.
A gentle push send you back into the once cool surface of his desk, now warm with your body heat and slightly damp with your sweat. Jeonghan wasted no time in ridding himself of his clothes, sliding a hand under one of your thighs and pulling you closer. His other hand held onto his cock, pumping himself a little as he rubbed it against your slick to coat himself with your wetness before he slowly started to push himself inside of you.
“Fuck, princess,” Jeonghan hissed once he finally bottomed out, feeling your insides squeezing his cock. “you can’t clench like that unless you want me to cum before I’ve even started moving.” He said, leaning down to your face and kissing the corner of your lips. He tried to pull away, but you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
His sudden gentleness shocked you, almost forgetting what position you were even in, but the need for him to start moving took over and you were right back in the moment. “I’m ready.”
His hands held your hips tightly as he pulled himself almost all the way out of you before thrusting back in, knocking some of the air right out of your lungs.
“So tight for me, aren’t you baby?” He groaned and buried his face into your neck. You nodded, albeit you hadn’t really been meaning to, you just couldn’t help your responses when the way he was fucking you felt so good.
“Harder, please. I need it. I need you, Jeonghan.”
Hearing you moan out his name stirred something in Jeonghan, something that had him snapping his hips harder and faster into you. Something that had him burying his face into your chest and sucking marks into your chest that you were certain wouldn’t fade for days. Something that had him bringing his mouth to your ear to whisper more of the filthy things you didn’t know he was capable of saying.
“Jeonghan? All it takes is me fucking you for you to lose all sense of respect, huh baby?” He asked, his breath becoming ragged and uneven as he continued to thrust into you with all his strength. “I thought you were my good girl, but I guess I was right before. Maybe you are just a little slut.”
“I am good!” You cried out, arching your back when Jeonghan continuously hit that spongy part inside of you. “I’m sorry sir, I’ll be good, I promise!”
Jeonghan chuckled, easing up on you a little bit but still continuing to fuck you with the pace he had already set. “Is that so? Does that mean you’ll do what I say? Will you be my good girl?”
“Yes, yes, anything you want sir!”
“That’s it baby,” He whispered with a tenderness that contrasted the way his cock was abusing your insides. “Be a good girl for me. Take my cock like a good girl.”
Shit, you weren’t gonna last much longer at this rate.
“Mr. Yoon, I’m gonna cum soon, please please please let me cum—” Jeonghan shushed your babbling by pressing his lips to yours, swallowing each whine and moan. While you were distracted with that, he trailed his fingers down your body all the way to your clit and rubbed it in fast, tight circles.
“Go ahead baby, cum whenever you want.”
That was all it took for the coil in your abdomen to finally snap, sending you spiraling over the edge. Jeonghan continued to thrust into you, though they started to falter as he got closer and closer to his own release.
“S-Shit, where do you—ah—want me, princess?”
“Inside me, please, sir.” You moaned. “I wanna feel you..need to feel you.”
With one final thrust, Jeonghan let out a final strong of curses before his hips stilled and he emptied himself inside you, painting your insides white. He hovered over you as the two of you caught your breath, eyes shut tight and lips slightly parted. After a few minutes like that, Jeonghan pulled out of you and mumbled for you to stay put there, fishing out his boxers and pants from the pile of clothes on the floor and pulling them on before slipping out of the room.
You sat up on the desk, allowing yourself to fully take in everything that had just happened. Did you seriously just let the father of your new friend fuck you? And enjoy it?
Yes, yes you did.
Jeonghan was back a few minutes later with a damp towel and a bottle of water. You eagerly took the water, drinking half of the bottle without a single break while Jeonghan wiped away the cum from between your legs and the sweat from your back along with the desk.
“I hope I wasn’t too hard on you.” Jeonghan spoke, picking your clothes off of the floor and handing them back to you. You smiled, slipping them back on and smoothing them out as much as you could.
“No no, it’s really fine.” You insisted. “It felt good.”
“Did it now? Should we go again?”
Jeonghan looked at you with a newfound hunger in his eyes that made you feel like you were in the kitchen pressed up against the counter all over again. You bit your lip and nodded, pulling him closer for a kiss, but at the sound of the door unlocking and opening you immediately jumped up and pushed him away.
“Dad, I’m home.” Iseul called out from somewhere further away in the house. You heard her footsteps coming, but you still jumped when the door to the room opened and Iseul stood there in the doorway, looking between the two of you.
“Oh, you were in here. I was wondering why you weren’t in my room.” She said, appearing completely oblivious to the situation that had just occurred in this room.
“Oh, yeah,” You laughed a bit fakely, taking a quick glance at Jeonghan before walking over to Iseul. “I got lost again.”
“Yeah, I get it. I still get lost sometimes too.” Iseul smiled apologetically, waving at Jeonghan before leading you out of the room. “So, did you finish the project? Or do you still need my help on those last few slides?”
As Iseul started to lead you out of the room, you couldn’t help but look back at Jeonghan one last time. He smiled at you, whispering something you almost didn’t hear before Iseul dragged you away.
“I’ll be waiting for you, princess.”
You smiled. Maybe this project hadn’t been so bad after all. Fingers crossed your professor would partner you with Iseul for the finals, too.
#jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan smut#jeonghan x reader#seventeen jeonghan#svt smut#svt#seventeen#svt x reader#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#svt jeonghan#seventeen smut
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Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways to Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+
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Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which just so happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush on him bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.
Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), mult-chapter build up, excessive use of nicknames, perv!Eddie, no use of y/n, Eddie POV, references to readers mom, a nice slow build up
Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin color or body shape/type.
So the original chapter 4 was a lot shorter than I remember so I combined it with chapter 5 <3
Word count: 7.5k
Chapter 4-Chapter 5
Five weeks ago, as one of his oldest friends asked him what was new, Eddie offhandedly mentioned he would be making his way down to Hawkins sometime during the summer to help Uncle Wayne finally transition into the nursing home.
Steve laughed, jokingly asking how is it that the old bastard isn’t in one already? The answer was pure stubbornness, of course.
It was without question that Steve offered a bed whenever Eddie needed it, tutting away the nonsense of Eddie staying in the 8 Motel off ‘Sketch Valley’, aka where all dark corners Hawkins’ parents have spent their years warning their kids about. Not that it really needed the negative press, as the atmosphere was off putting as it is.
Eddie was grateful, to say the least. After earning some bang for his buck he’s gotten used to a lifestyle and the 8 Motel was the only place in Hawkins that resembled a hotel.
It was impulsively decided the week of Eddie would go and help Wayne move after he reluctantly admitted simple tasks like bathing and making toast was getting harder for him and he could use the help. He called Steve, betting on the welcome being open in any circumstance.
In the heat of the moment Steve accepted, more than happy to help out a friend, give him some place to stay and a soft bed in the middle of packing and figuring out the kinks.
You would think his one second eldest daughter who hadn’t been as nearly stealthy about her crush on the rock star as she thought staying for the weekend would off set his willingness to help, but he’s so eager to help your visit doesn’t even cross his mind. Until you show up, bag in hand, your mom’s smile on your face as you give him a big hug and he realizes this might be trickier than he thought it’d be.
Eddie’s trip is long and painful, many assholes on the road obnoxiously refusing to let him pass, long mindlessly winding roads, the urge to piss after spending long hours passing semis. Wistfully watching those same semis pass him as he hides in the bushes.
When the door opened, Eddie was surprised to see a pair of eyes a few inches shorter than he’d expected, framed by hair in a tousled bun, a bikini top peeking out from a pretty summer dress. The first thought was wow, she fills out her dress a lot better than I remember. The second thought, brought on by the freckles decorating your skin, was oh shit this is Steve’s daughter.
‘Aah, little Harrington’ was a way to remind himself and you that this was off limits. No matter how intoxicating your perfume was, or how inviting the knot tying your bikini top together was. Of course as an evil twist of fate Steve had to be showering when he had arrived only to be greeted by temptation personified, his presence needed as he found it stupid easy to fall in conversation with you, keeping his distance so he didn’t do something stupid.
You offer to grab him something, being a good host, but Eddie needed to tread carefully as he recalls Steve jokingly remarking how you had a small crush on him over the years.
He’ll get over the reminder that you’re now in your 20s, filling out a summer dress and making him wonder what present that string is possibly hiding underneath the thin fabric. He had to.
He denied your offer to make him something.
As your summer dress hit the cement, revealing the just barely there bikini he ripped his eyes away from your glowing skin, reminding himself what he was not there to do. Steve found him sitting on the couch absently strumming Carla, immediately accusing his daughter of not offering any hospitality.
He was out the backdoor before Eddie could even protest. At Steve’s insistence Eddie followed him back into the kitchen, forced to sit on the island as he worked at making a hot meal for him. Answering the basic how are you questions was easy, the hardest part was keeping his eyes off you through the still opened double doors.
It became impossible when the plate was set in front of him as Steve left the room to bring Eddie’s bags to the guest room.
The image of you gliding through the pool, droplets scattered on your shimmering skin as your legs broke through the water’s surface tension was alluring in a way that only depleted his appetite for lunch.
His one saving grace to prevent him from making any stupid decisions was Steve’s presence. Until it was gone. Fuck, Steve! Out of all possible weekends to have a work emergency you had to pick this one?
He wished he could forget how gentle you were with his things, how forgiving you were to his dorky heart in ways he himself was still so hard himself about. The teasing tone in your voice tugged at his heart strings and low in his stomach, taking him back repeatedly through the long day of packing.
Your tentative touch along his old doodling, listening to him about his favourite Dark Fantasy Novels, the knowledge about his old adventures, the questions you had asked about Wayne…everything you had dared to say only drew you closer to him.
It was a delicious taste of irony, how Eddie had told himself not to let the close proximity get to him but it turned out to be your curious nature and caring touch that made Eddie drawn to you like a moth to a flame, suddenly craving more intimacy.
The unbearable heat of the following day allowed him to gaslight himself into believing it was all circumstantial, but your tiny gym shorts and the sweat glistening along your skin had invited him, called out to him, before he knew it he had invited himself along on your walk.
Ice cream and a joint had sounded really good, finding himself in too deep when he took a deep nhale of the smoke just to smell your sweat still lingering in the grass, deliberately allowing his fingers to brush against yours.
A sweet whiff of your sweat lingered in the grassy stench, the majority reason for his deep inhale as the smoke filled his lungs. It hit the spot, smirking as he handed it over back to you, letting his fingers linger as a jolt of electricity ran right through him.
He found it too easy to fall into conversation with you, teasing and poking and finding a thrill out of the V that so easily formed between your brows. Found it even easier to use so much as his hand on your shoulder to fix your gait as you start to drift to the right or catch your wrist when you nearly nose dive.
He thought you must be trying to kill him when the smoke blew in his face, wanting to return the favor by planting his lips on yours and exhaling his next turn right to your lungs. The following sound you would’ve let out haunted Eddie, just the potential alone releasing an ache in his gut that he hasn’t felt in years.
He watched in real time as you lost your inhibitions, stumbling over your feet and repeating sentences and losing your train of thought. He wondered if you had felt your skin also ablaze when he kept finding the excuse to let your skin connect. At first it was just an excuse, soon became a necessity once you nearly nose dived, catching your wrist.
You seemed to barely notice.
He’d never quite felt jealousy as intense as it was when you mentioned your ex boyfriend, a concerning level of relief taking over him when he’d realized how little you even cared he was there, too distracted by the ice cream.
Eddie went through a world wind of emotions when you’d started lapping your tongue all over the sweet treat, humming delight at the taste and completely disregarding any present company.
He almost lost his mind when you had admitted your ex had only been mediocre with you in bed. The mental spiral he had gone through was swift and winded him, wondering how if anyone would be lucky enough to find themselves in such a position would they manage to mess it up so royally? Knowing if he’d ever give in to that most primal of desires of his, he’d take advantage of any possible moment he’d have between your thighs, make it his mission to have your legs shiver and shake for him.
He’d lap every drop of arousal you’d give him, taking every whine and moan as gospel, eager and willing to give you everything, craving the taste of you on his tongue, to watch you squirm and for him- it sent all the blood from his brain to his dick.
His spiral is squished, the fucker’s hand suddenly tight on your skin, audaciously demanding he have another trial in mediocrity. It was too easy to bend his arm backward, nearly breaking it in the process as he found great joy in how quickly his tough guy macho front collapsed.
Luckily, you forgot about it like it never happened. Unluckily, you made it your goddamn mission to eat the ice cream as erotically as you possibly could. Eddie didn’t even think you were aware of the drops on your tits, watching as you indulge so eagerly, all your slurps and hums of satisfaction going straight to his cock.
God damn the angel that had decided to fuck with him that day, the one that had told you to spend an ungodly amount of time cleaning up the ice cream which didn’t help had the same colour as a certain substance.
You’ve gone quiet as he is, but he starts to worry that maybe he overstepped or made you uncomfortable. That worry only intensified when you admit you’ve smoked way past your own limit, wondering if he had somehow pushed you into smoking more. He needs you to know its ok to listen to yourself, lifting your chin to look up to him— and fuck he takes in your beautiful face up close.
Eddie convinced himself he fucked up worse when you run off.
As he strums his guitar, the chords and melodies come out all jumbled as the nagging worry only grows. He can usually hear your shower from downstairs but the stream hasn’t started yet. Oh god, what if you’ve greened out? You didn’t smoke very much but he had no idea where that boundary for you was.
You could’ve been normally done after three puffs for all he knew. Maybe he’ll just go check on you, the incessant need to make sure you’re okay after withdrawing as hard as you did eating his brain away.
His knuckles nearly collide with the door when he first hears it.
He’s not sure what exactly he’s hearing until he hears it again, clearer and far more distinct.
Oh.
You weren’t going for a shower.
Eddie stops breathing. In the middle of the hallway, he doesn’t allow himself to move a muscle, two halves of a whole person fighting within himself.
He should move. He should put his ear against the door. He should put some pressure on this aching cock of his. He should offer you help. He should leave.
Your moans are intertwined with sighs and whimpers, no words to indicate anything and Eddie goes nuts wanting to see you.
What are you doing? Are you using your fingers in that tight little pussy of yours? Overstimulating your clit? Using a vibrator— no, he doesn’t hear any buzzing… A choked out swear passes through your lips, god those soft pillowy lips he just wants to spend hours kissing.
Images flash through his brain, your tongue wrapped around the ice cream, the drips landing on your tits you didn’t notice, your doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes— Eddie keels over, grasping at the frame of your door as he finally relieves some of the pent up pressure. Fuck—its not enough.
Your moaning has gotten louder, lost in the pleasure you’re giving yourself. Fuck, he wonders what has gotten you so worked up. Are you picturing anyone with you? Is it a side effect of the weed you smoked? Are you driven mad by him like he is by you? As it gets louder he realizes…oh fuck you’re about to— Jesus.
He hopes he has the privilege of seeing you go over the edge one of these days.
He thinks its over for a moment but you start again…and now Eddie really can’t help it anymore he has to fuck…he hisses loudly when his cock finally comes in contact with his hand, the head flushed with a bright red tint.
No wonder he’s being so careless, all the blood is gone from his brain.
For the first time since apprehensively seeing your nipples peaked from behind your adorable little bikini at the front door he allows himself to imagine himself with you with his hand around himself. He imagines its him, Eddie, making you whine as much as you are, the desperate whines and pathetic little cries coming from you the result of him situated between your legs and fucking you with his tongue.
It would taste better than the ice cream did, he knows it would.
His hand flexes, wishing he could play and grope your tit, watch how the you react to him tweaking your nipple playfully. Fuck— did you just cum again?
“Oh fucking hell!” You swear, not sounding in the least bit tired.
All the needs, the questions Eddie has been masochistically asking himself has him being needy, whispering out little pleases as he needs to touch you, to see you, to know what the hell is on your mind. “Please, please, baby, please, ‘need to see that hot fucking body wiggle and curl and shake and fuck please let it be for me. I want it to be for me.”
Eddie has never been so desperate that he needed something like this, more stoned off the moans that fill the halls rather than the joint he shared with you. It was like he was only a step away from his lips on yours, but that little allowance he gave himself earlier is no longer enough, needing your lips to be carnally captured by his, to hear the whimper you let out when he bites your bottom lip, to lick the swollen sting in an apology.
God he can’t remember the last time the thought of someone like this made him this viscerally desperate. Your moans grow louder, on the precipice of yet another orgasm and suddenly Eddie finds himself hurdling towards the finish line. “Come on baby, one more. Cum one more time for me. Let me hear you, just one more time, please.”
As if his wish was your command, you push over the edge in what sounds like an earth shattering, thigh twitching, eyes rolling orgasm. He’s willing to bet you made a mess on your bed, quaking limbs and gasping after shocks as you wear a prettily stupid smile on your face and turn over your sheets to look for your phone.
Eddie grips the door frame, staring at the sticky substance on his hands he wishes you’d lick up the same way you did with the ice cream soup. For now…he’ll wash it off.
As he shakily washes his hands, he finally reaches his eyes in his reflection, knowing that was the only time he’d let himself indulge in the fantasy you’re practically serving to him on a silver platter.
Twenty minutes later, you come down glowing, a bright smile on your face with wet hair and a new summer dress that has his hands itching to rake all over you. It takes five minutes of contemplating for Eddie to realize that this is what you look like after really good sex. He’s rock hard again, and you’re wearing too much clothes.
He’s flushed at your uncharacteristically good attitude, at the knowledge if you were his you’d be this upbeat all the time if he had anything to do with it.
You ask him if he wants pizza, smiling sweetly when he boops your nose and accept graciously. As the dress sways across the top of your thigh while you walk into the living room, Eddie lets out a small grunt as his forehead meets the cool marble counter.
He’s fucked.
-
The mouthwatering smell of pepperoni and green peppers with sausage made your good mood only increase, after effects of the joints and three orgasms now combined with the pizza turning your sour mood to euphoric. The sun still beats down in a horrid, blazing heat, but for now these things outweigh the muggy outdoors.
You slip the driver some cash, multitasking as you open the box simultaneously to take the first bite. You suffer through the first bite, much too hot as the driver compliments the front foyer in the Harrington house. The door shuts on him as you thank him, Eddie glowering at his wandering eyes over your shoulder that you missed through the entire interaction.
Eddie grabs the boxes from you, cheekily grinning as he insists you must be trying to hurt yourself. You shrug playfully, grinning through the bites that are still much too hot but oh so delicious.
His grin feels looser, more playful, something you wonder if its just a Jedi mind trick.
His hips collide with yours as he goes to grab a plate, serving himself some of his own pizza, (cheddar, chicken, and mushrooms) his hand lingering on your hip as he leans over to steal a piece from your pie, too.
“Who said you could have some of mine?” You ask, reaching for the piece to snatch it back.
He yanks it from your reach, his pretty dimples plain as day as you jump with no such success. “Is that really the best you can do?”
You scoff, jaw dropping as you reach for it again. “It’s easy for you to say when you’ve got—“ you huff, the piece just out of reach, “—3 or 4 inches on me at least.”
One side of Eddie’s pink lips curl up in a playful snarl, “Oh, more than that, I promise.”
You stop jumping, eyes going wide at the innuendo. “Fine, you can have it.”
“Didn’t ask for permission, but I appreciate it anyway, sweetheart,” he winks, taking a big bite from it. Ok, eating pizza should not be this sexy, you muse, watching the tomato sauce spill over his lips, and the tongue that pokes out to lap it up.
His cologne is back to overwhelming your nostrils, enveloping you in a sweet musky scent as you reach to grab some more slices for your plate.
“You know you can have some of mine,” he’s leant in, his voice low and hot breath right next to your ear sending a well defined shiver down your spine.
Your face twists in disgust as you glance at it, reaching for the garlic fingers, instead. “No thanks.”
He laughs, eyebrows raised inquisitively. “What?”
“Not a fan of mushrooms,” you shrug, moving around him for a soft drink. “Soda?”
“You’re missing out,” he insists, taking a big bite out of a particularly mushroomy piece. “Sure, sweets.”
Yesterday Eddie hadn’t gotten closer to you than necessary, always staying at least one pace away from you. Suddenly he’s in your space, leaning in and choking you with his velvet voice and overwhelming presence. That walk must’ve done really well in terms of familiarity, remembering how easy going he usually is with your dad.
“Rent a movie with me?” You ask, nodding your head toward the living room.
“As long as it’s horror and something you’ve never seen before,” he barters, picking up his plate as if he was already planning on joining you.
“Ooh, can we watch Smile?” You flick the tv to on Demand, showing rental options of movies that have just come out.
“Oh no, sweetheart,” Eddie easily grabs the remote from your grasp, switching the screen to Horror movies in stead . “It has to be something I have seen. Meaning I’m showing you a Classic. You ever seen The Poltergeist?”
You blanch, shaking your head quickly.
Laughs bubble up his throat, watching how worried your face immediately becomes in a split second. “Don’t worry. We can shut it off if it gets too much, but it’s just such a Classic.”
You roll your eyes, suddenly remembering he’s in his 40s. “Yeah, it came out when you were dropping out of college.”
He flicks your temple, huffing out a laugh at your yelp. “Shithead. Now sit and watch.”
You get comfortable, bringing the ice cold soda can to your lips as the movie turns on, increasingly aware of his presence on the couch next to you.
It was a fucking scary movie, but his consistent explanations made it worth it.
The temperature ended up cooling overnight, allowing for a deep sleep while a single top sheet frayed over your body, delicately protecting it as you sleep well into the morning. You barely remember falling asleep on the couch last night, the memory of Eddie waking you and escorting you to your bed replaying through your mind as you hug your knees and hide your wide smile against your kneecap.
His hand on your waist, thumb swaying against your cotton shirt as he asked how it is that someone manages to fall asleep during The Poltergeist, huffing out a laugh at the subsequent pout that took over your face. His low voice asked if you needed any water, his hand pausing right before it gently caressed your hairline as you drifted asleep.
The hot spray of the shower was just what you needed, doing your best not to over analyze his sudden closeness as you let the steam fill your bathroom. The too small towel barely covers the good bits as you walk towards your bedroom door, water beads scattered across your skin from your damp hair that you probably should’ve spent more time drying.
Not your fault your sister had a nicer en-suite shower than you did.
You’re only a few paces from your bedroom door when you hear what sounds like someone choking, followed by a coughing fit. You whip around to face Eddie covering his mouth with his elbow, hacking as he raises his finger to indicate he’s fine. You couldn’t be sure, but when he lowers his arm it looks like there’s a faint blush across his cheeks.
“Sorry! I was coming to check up on you it’s almost 1’clock in the afternoon,” he coughs, anxiously avoiding your stare as you stand still holding your towel up clenched in one fist. “So-sorry I’ll let you get back to it.”
You smile, taking advantage of his sudden nervous stature, looking suddenly a few inches shorter than he normally does. “You’ve seen me less in a bikini,” you deadpan, missing the way the towel slowly starts to reveal your hips and Eddie’s eyes zoning in on it.
“Right. In any case I made you lunch, if you’re up for it that is,” he tells you, clearing his throat as he plays with the scrunchie on his wrist.
“I thought rockstars all sleep in,” you joke, tilting your head as you look at him.
“I lost the ability to last year,” he quips back, smirking. “You also went to bed last night at 2 so it’s nearly been twelve hours, forgive me if I thought I had the merit to be concerned.”
“The merit?” You can’t resist it, his squirminess as you just stand in a towel is so entertaining you could burst, not even attempting to hide the wide smile on your face.
“I made god damned grilled cheese and tomato soup for you and this is how you repay me?” He exclaims, one pierced eyebrow rising. “Guess you don’t want it.”
“No!” You protest, your fun suddenly forgotten. God, how’d he know your favorite lunch? “Give me five, maybe ten minutes.”
“I’m timing you on that,” Eddie points to his watch, something probably more subtly expensive than you could guess. “9 minutes and counting!”
Eddie climbs down the stairs, finally able to take a deep breath at the bottom as he braces his hands on his knees. The image of you flashed through his mind, the towel hugging your tits pressing up against them perfectly to knock the wind out of him. As if that weren’t enough, the slit of your towel where at first your leg alone was peeking out became wider and wider, slowly revealing the droplets that still lingered on your skin, finding himself envious of water as it trailed down to where he couldn’t see, hands flexing as he wanted to trace that very pattern.
You apparently made no effort with the towel before making your way over to your bedroom because you were still soaked from your shower, hundreds of little droplets covering your skin, some trailing down from your still soaked hair. It was ethereal, watching the shine of your collarbone and that slow rising reveal of your hips.
Damn. Eddie can’t remember the last time he’s been hard twice within the same four hours. Morning wood is typical, though more uncommon these days, but a damn collarbone? Is he back in goddamn high school?
The temptation to retreat back to his guest room to relieve himself is too much, but for whatever reason he can’t bring himself to. Distraction…distraction.
Something that caught his eyes during his first day suddenly flashed through his mind, a mess of twigs and leaves and branches that has obviously gone years without any maintenance. By the time you get downstairs in yet another stunning summer dress, Eddie has found an old pair of gardening gloves and has already filled one large black garbage bag, already well on to fill a second one.
His hair is done in a loose bun that has already started to come undone, his tongue sticking out as he tries to pull apart one branch off to break the larger branch down into continuously smaller pieces. He has taken advantage of the Bluetooth speaker Steve keeps for the outdoors, blasting music reminiscent of many backyard sunny afternoons swimming and playing and tussling for hours.
His toned arms are practically bulging as he continues the yard work, glistening in a sheen layer of sweat in the hot sun, as he continually gathers weeds and the straggler branches that have blown into the fire pit over the years.
The fire pit is extremely overgrown due to lack of use, the regular use of the pit gone down significantly once your older sister moved out, no longer taking advantage of the extravagant backyard for major parties. You never had interest in hosting any parties, the clean up for the host not worth it in your humble opinion. Steve continued to hire one of the few pool boys available in Hawkins for the outdoor pool, but also saw no need to continue the maintenance of the pit.
By the time you had put the bowl and plate away in the dishwasher, Eddie had already cleared most of the fire pit and was deep in the shed, from the sounds and swears he was making it was clear he was looking for something.
You were sitting on your favorite poolside chair with a good book and some cut up watermelon you stole from the fridge when Eddie comes out pushing the lawnmower, arms fully extended as he struggles through the admittedly tall grass. A gush of watermelon juice runs down your chin as he wipes his forehead and bends to assess the machine, admiring how his hands gently rub any debris or dust that has collected over the years.
As soon as the loud motor of the lawn mower fills the backyard, it drowns the music so you turn it up on the speakers, reciprocating the single handed wave Eddie gives you in either gratitude or acknowledgement. Even with the pages of the filthy smut filled book opened, your eyes don’t stay on the pages for any longer than a second. It takes for Eddie to go from fence to fence (in a stupidly large backyard) twice for you to read a full paragraph that would usually have you on the edge of your seat.
Sorry, two characters who have finally brought their heads out of their asses and admitted their own feelings and are subsequently hooking up in a place they should not be hooking up with, Eddie Munson’s sweaty biceps are taking front row. You swallow a dry throat, the concept of water suddenly flashing through your stupid head.
You’ve been watching Eddie do manual labour in a hot sun for the better part of an hour now and he’s probably parched. You run off indoors, the air conditioned house tingling as you feel each and every goose bump that forms, looking through the fridge for something, you’re not sure.
For one moment you consider grabbing the lemonade powder from the cupboard, though that might be too on the nose. You scoop the neck of a beer bottle, dripping in condensation and the second tub of watermelon, your sandals flapping loudly until you reach the grass again, meeting him as he fills the garbage bag with the cut grass.
“Need some hydration?” You call out, holding the glass bottle to him.
“Oh, Jesus, thank you,” he sighs, tipping back the bottle, his adam’s apple deliciously bobbing as he engulfs it.
“Should’ve brought something non-alcoholic, if you’re gonna down it that quickly,” you mutter, licking your lips as you watch some of it spill and drip down his chin.
“Nah, beer’s perfec-hey, watermelon, fuck, perfect.” He grabs a larger piece from the tupperware in your other hand,one that by the time he rushes into his mouth has already begun to drip down his fingers, wrist, and forearm. When your eyes flicker back up to his face, he’s already messily chewing on the watermelon, the pink juice flowing down his chin. As he enjoys the juice that is supposedly bursting onto his tastebuds.
Eddie Munson eats slowly, he enjoys every possible second of what he eats. Not an ounce goes to waste, if he can help it from the stickiness to his thumb to the drool on his chin, he takes it all in. It drives you mental with sudden lust, squeezing your thighs together as he goes in for more watermelon. How has the pure erotic connotation of this fruit completely evaded your mind? You might as well have given him chocolate covered strawberries, you slut.
Every piece is worse than the last one, it’s like he’s purposely driving you completely mad with hormones and blinding any sense of logic you might have, your toes curling as he slowly makes his way through the chunks.
“You want some?” Eddie offers, quickly shaking you out of your trance.
You clear your throat, gesturing to the empty tub right next to your chair. “Oh, I already had a tub. Did you promise my dad you would perform free labor for a free weekend at his house, because that’s extortion, you know.”
He laughs, in the middle of taking a sip that quickly turns into a coughing fit. “No, believe it or not, I’m crazy enough to be doing this of my own free will. I also happen to have a lot of experience in landscaping.”
Your lips purse, your eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to recall any mentioning of landscaping in any magazine article or one of your dad’s many stories.
“I mowed lawns around town,” he deadpans, chuckling when he sees it click. “I also mowed lawns around LA when I first arrived. It paid for a few amps, some recording studio time, groceries. Working at the record store only paid so much, you know?”
You nod, grabbing one piece and ‘cheersing’ when he offers, picturing young Eddie Munson who’s still unknown, overworking himself to the bone so that he and his band could one day, hopefully make it. The long hours, the sore feet, the stress of hoping and working, it pinches at your heart, squeezing it but his face doesn’t give away any of the negative feelings that comes from working so hard for so long with such bare results.
He’s looking at it from a lens of nostalgia, how eager he was to learn, the eyerolls of his customers who overpaid him to simply trim their lawn at his answer ‘musician’ when they asked him what he did for work. How across those same lawns its a party trick. Eddie Munson once cut my father’s lawn in the summer of 91, true story.
Half those people he’s probably never met, but he’s willing to be someone’s little white lie, after all he dreamed about days like these.
“I considered getting into the pool cleaning business but it was too much to learn and too many bored moms looking for a fantasy in their pool boys. I’m good, I just needed the money. I heard that lost it’s merit after three.”
“Who’d you learn that from?” You grin, seeing a twinkle in his eye.
He laughs again, chewing on some more of the pink juicy fruit you couldn’t help but watch carefully.”Gareth,” he muses, speaking of his band’s drummer who bores a sick goatee and once blonde long locks he chopped off a few years ago much to the dismay of many fangirls. “He said it was the best gig ever then took it (and his gear) back the following week.”
From what you know about their band and their quirks, that sounds like Gareth.
“I’m gonna get back to it. I should be done at least the brunt of it in an hour or so. Do me a favor and keep checking me out, it’s doing numbers for my already large ego,” he winks, taking the final sip of his beer.
You go speechless, your mouth that was once somewhat hydrated from the melon now cotton dry. “I was-I was not–”
“I was teasing you, sweetheart. But hey me thinks the lady doth protest too much”
“I didn’t even protest!” you argue, bearing your forearms toward him feeling like you’re in the middle of a performance with how amazingly dramatic and tense the situation has become.
“Oh, no, you couldn’t even speak,” Eddie smirks, leaning over to yank on the cord of the machine, drowning out your argument.
Not like anything’ll happen, anyway, you shrug, walking back over to your book.
Sometime in the later afternoon after you help Eddie put all the garbage bags at a hidden corner of the yard, he decides to go in for a shower, his stinky musk acting as a strong pheromone.
You don’t even notice him come back down, sat on the cool couch indoors as the filthy scene has finally caught your attention. The character is overcoming her first orgasm and bewildered when her love interest goes in for more when your flow is interrupted by Eddie, as bag of marshmallows between his gritted teeth and cradling a few more indecipherable ingredients as he nods toward the outside.
When you hit the backyard the outdoor string of lights has been turned on, two chairs by the fire in the pit one with a blanket, soft rock music on in the background as Eddie puts down all the ingredients.
“Wh-what is this?” You ask him as your heart pounds in your chest hard.
“I uh–” he clears his throat, biting his thumb, “I just thought we could enjoy this fire pit that has spent so many years feeling useless. Let’s give it a night of change.”
“You cleaned out the fire pit because you felt sorry for it?” You clarify, shooting a pointed glance toward him.
“Not in so many words,” he reframes, scratching his neck. “Though I thought it must be jealous of his neighbor for still getting maintained all these years.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you muse, staring up at his brown eyes that don’t reach yours. “And sweet,” you add, biting back giggles when he breaks into a smile. “I’m sure our fire pit would love a night where he’s the center of attention again.”
“He?” Eddie points out, the eyebrow piercing hitting the sunset as they meet his hairline.
“You’re the one who said it must be jealous” you point out, walking over to the chair with the blanket.
As soon as your thighs hit the chair, Eddie wastes no time. “So, What was your dad’s opinion of what was it, Mark? Matthew?”
“Andy,” you mend, not caring if even got the name wrong.Getting the first letter wrong somehow made you feel better, as Andy was barely a blip on your radar as far as your weekend goes. “And he hated him. Tried to hide it, didn’t do a very good job of it, though.”
“Your dad has hated many boyfriends from what I can remember,” Eddie mutters, legs crossed as he stares right into the fire. The fire makes his brown eyes look brazenly dashing and a little on the wild side.
“My sisters and I didn’t all have the best track record of boys in high school,” you admit, suddenly feel the elephant in the room, or yard, that is your age difference that still has yet to be discussed. “College boys are even worse, honestly.”
“Men aren’t much better,” Eddie shakes his head, squinting comically.
“I think there’s a few good ones out there,” you mutter, only staring straight into the fire. “But back to my dad. Andy in specifically I think was his least favorite in the bunch because they just butted heads, all the time.”
“Why stay with a guy like that for two years?” Eddie asks. You look at him, having answered a question that feels accusatory from anyone else with defensiveness. The need to defend the seventeen year old girl dies in your throat when you see his expression, complete curiosity. “Expert in gaslighting and lovebombing and making an insult feel like a compliment. God all the time I wasted on him feeling like I wasn’t good enough–” you sigh, shaking yourself out of it. “Looking back it’s a parade of red flags.”
“Everything in hindsight,” Eddie amends, colliding his shoulder with yours as an act of comfort. “Sorry to bring it up he just seemed–he bothered me.”
“Acting like he’s too smart for college is so like him,” you admit, shaking your head. “What a dick.”
Eddie bursts out in laughter, handing you a cold opened beer bottle. Usually you turn down the wheaty drink if you can, but for his kindness and grand gesture you bring the bottle to your lips anyway after cheersing with him.
He’s in the middle asking about how you think you will do once you continue into your fifth year of college working towards your masters in psychology when the playlist shuffles into a song by Corroded Coffin, one of the only genuine love songs the band has ever produced.
“I love this song,” you muse, swaying to the start of a luck struck tale. It speaks of a girl at 18, wild smiles and pretty eyes meeting a boy of 19, lost and alone and aimless.
“I bet you do,” Eddie smiles, no malice behind his words.
You jerk, sending him the silent question of why?
“You really don’t know?” He asks, leaning back in his chair with wide eyes when you confirm. “Huh.”
“What?” You ask, staring to hum along when the upbeat chorus comes along, just two kids in a crazy world, how simple can this be just a boy and a girl, softly smiling at the hook and title of the song. “What?”
“I wrote this song about your parents,” Eddie mutters, looking off past the fire. “I started writing it early on in their relationship but only realized I’d release it when your dad proposed. I knew when he met her that she was the one for him.”
You smile, only vague memories of your mom flittering around in your mind, mostly hospital visits and playing cards with her and your siblings as she wore a beautiful vivid scarf on her head. “I didn’t know that,” the pressure that builds behind your eyes blurs the orange flames, the bridge suddenly making far too much sense and wondering how you’ve never connected it before.
Or why no one has ever told you.
“You okay?” Eddie asks, the beer bottle pausing on the way to his lips.
“I’m okay,” you smile, one stupid tear breaking free on the last chorus. “Just taken aback.”
“I’m sorry if I–” he starts, his voice drowning in remorse.
“It’s ok,” you nod, taking a sip of the alcohol to kill some of the grief you felt. “Really. Can we talk about something else now?”
He nods, walking around the fire to a few things you still haven’t noticed, pokey sticks. He sheathes a marshmallow on one of the prongs followed by another, hanging the pokey to you carefully. “S’more?”
You grin, nodding as you grab it from him and ignoring the warmth from his fingers brushing against yours gives you. “I suppose. Although it seems we are ignoring our dinner,” you joke, pointing out the hot dogs he also brought out.
“Dinner schminner,” Eddie dismisses, sitting back down. “We have s’mores, instead.”
“You’re a terrible influence,” you accuse, resting the stick on the edge of the pit. “Wait til my father hears about this,” you mutter in your best british accent, terribly butchering it.
“First of all,” Eddie huffs, unable to hold in his laughter. “That was the worst English accent I’ve ever heard in my life. That sucked.” Your fists collides with his knee, barking out laughter at his ‘ow!’ “Hey! I’m roasting marshmallows here, careful, it’s a very delicate process!”
“You deserved that, even if it’s true you just made me cry and now I’m emotionally vulnerable. I could’ve very well burst into tears from your insult!” You can’t even take yourself seriously, bursting into giggles by the halfway point. “Okay, what was second of all?”
“I don’t like to brag but I once met Daniel Radcliffe at one of my shows,” he shrugs, as if it were no big deal, failing to hide how gleeful it t ruly made him feel.
“First, you seem like the type of person who loves to brag, second, you seem very excited about it and I’m not at all jealous you got to meet him. He seems so cool and genuine.”
“That’s just the thing, he really is that cool and genuine and it was the most bizarre thing,” Eddie shakes his head, twirling the stick around. “The most random of people come to our shows and I’m always shocked when they say they like us because it still feels so unreal.”
“Twenty some odd years and it still feels like a dream?” You ask, watching a look of bewilderment take over his face that could never be faked. “That’s really cool, oh shit.” You tug in your marshmallows, one of them extra crispy as you blow out the flame. “Fuck,” you mutter, having hated burnt marshmallows.
“Wanna trade? I love the burnt ones,” Eddie grins, holding out the perfectly golden brown mallows.
You rapidly nod, biting on your bottom lip.
Its a struggle to get the gooey treats onto the chocolates and graham crackers, neither of you having the foresight to unwrap the damn things before roasting the star pieces of the treats. Eddie takes the trouble all in good stride, laughing as one of yours almost falls off the prong before he can get the graham cracker ready.
The first one of yours is already done by the time he sits with his own, having insisted he didn’t need help and to go fucking sit down already.
“How are they?” He takes a bite, nodding in approval before you can answer.
“Really good,” you hum, your voice muffled in chocolatey gooyness as your fingers continue to get sticky.
“Hmm, yeah that hits the stuff,” he appreciates, wet smacking as he works through his s’more so quickly you’re not even sure he was chewing. “Oh, just what I needed after a long day of yard work.”
“You did that voluntarily,” you remind him, taking alas the final taste of a delicious s’more. It might’ve been the best damn one you’ve ever had.
“Guess I just needed a reminder of what a long day of hard work looks like,” he shrugs, pausing in his bites as something crosses his mind. The thought goes away just as quickly, continuing to finish off his s’more.
The sun has nearly disappeared into the horizon, a beautiful dark blue starting to overhaul the once crystal. The conversation dwindles down, the loud crack of the fire pit and background music filling the air instead.
You think it’s the perfect ending to your days spent together.
Until.
‘“I have a stupid idea.” He says, his knee knocking yours.
“Hmm?” you ask, hazy from your third beer.
“In the mood for a swim?”
-
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hi bunny! <33 i wanted to ask if you could do a little fic of how the ateez boys (specifically jjong) would be like during aftercare ❤️ after a rougher session— i’m in need of comforty cute stuff rn lmao 😭 no pressure ofc! luv u bun bun 🫶
aftercare w/ateez
hongjoong
i feel like hongjoong is very prepared for aftercare, especially if he knows in advance that it’s going to be a rougher session
like he already has a glass of water and a snack bar on the nightstand ready to go
coos and praises you as he breaks the bar into tiny pierces and slides them between your lips with his fingers
will absolutely force you to pee and shower once he thinks you’ve got your energy up enough to walk to the bathroom
stays with you the whole time you pee, and slides into the shower beside you to wash your hair
unlike some of the others i don’t believe that the shower will to anything else because hongjoong has a modicum of self control and can see you naked without going feral…
seonghwa
seonghwa’s first instinct is to go and grab a washcloth from the bathroom so he can wipe down the mess between your legs
of course, while he’s in the bathroom, he kills two birds with one stone and begins to draw a bath for you
wipes down your sticky skin with the warm cloth, all while whispering praises
‘i know you’re sensitive but you’re being such a good girl by letting me clean you! just a little more and it’ll be over, my darling.’
once you’re somewhat clean he guides you to the bathroom and helps you into the bath before going to chance the sheets
comes back the second they’re changed and in the washer so he can sit on the side of the tub and watch you with a pretty smile
yunho
cuddly boy!!
will literally just hold you to his chest and stroke his hand up and down your spine while the two of you return your breathing to normal
isn’t so fussy about the ‘clean’ aspect of it all, but will definitely make you go pee because we do not want any UTI’s in this house!
and once you’re finished peeing, he just ticks you back into his nice strong arms and lets you fall to sleep in his grasp
he trusts you enough to know that you’ll tell him if you need anything else; water, a snack, all that jazz
he also knows you enough to know that is so incredibly rare that you’ll want anything other than him and his warm cuddles
because let’s be real, lying on top of yunho with your head tucked into his neck and his long arms holding you in place is actually the best feeling in the world
yeosang
you know my thoughts on yeosang’s sex style so i also have to assume that he takes his job of aftercare very seriously
it’s half a guilt thing because baby boy went so hard that now he has to take care of you; he needs to know that you’re okay and he didn’t do too much
he starts by wiping you down and you’re guaranteed to be oversensitive, but he just shushes you and tells you how well you’re doing
ideally he’d like you to shower, but you’re too boneless right now and he doesn’t want to leave you for long enough to run a bath
and when he’s all done cleaning you up, he’ll hold a straw to your mouth, watching you as gulp down the water he brought you
i can see him needing his own validation as well so he asks you plenty of questions
did he go to far? did you like it when he did that one thing? were you having as much fun as he was? he really is desperate to know that you were having a good time
san
san is so fucking clingy that from the moment he goes soft, he will not let you out if his sight
he won’t send you to the bathroom yourself with promises of cuddles when you get back; why would he when he can follow you in there to hold your hand while you pee?
and while you’re in the shower you better let this man wash your hair, your body, your face, anything he can, unless you want him to pout
sits you on the toilet seat while he brushes your teeth; it’s cute but you can’t help but feel shy as he holds your jaw and looks down at you
and then when he’s sure you’re squeaky clean and happy, he bundles you up in his arms and drags you back to bed with him
from which there will be no escape, by the way; if you even dream about getting out of bed, san will be pouting and complaining
mingi
i like to think that he puts his mind, body and soul into sex, so he’s probably just as tired as you when it’s over
ideally, he’d just like to stay in bed with you, but he knows you have to replenish yourself, so he sets you little tasks
“can you go get a wash cloth from the bathroom so i can wipe you down?”, “go piss, girl. i’ll be right here waiting for you.”
and you best believe that after every single task you complete, he’s praising you like you’ve just cured world hunger or something
lips pressed against yours, letting you know just how good you are for him and how proud he is of you for doing what he asks
it’s safe to say youre leave your submissive headspace any time soon, not when mingi has you in his grasp, whispering sweet praises in your ear
wooyoung
wooyoung likes to do everything for you and if he even catches you lifting a finger he will become the most annoying person to ever walk this earth
like he’ll be getting you a glass of water and he’ll come back to the bedroom to see you with a tissue between your legs and all he can thing is how dare you?
literally storms over and takes it away from you before continuing the job himself, muttering under his breath as he cleans you up
“you weren’t so independent when you were begging for my dick, hm?” he scowls, “you need me to fuck you properly, so what makes you think you don’t need to help you with this too?”
like honestly, he’s kind of mean with it but with his gentle touch and the tiny kisses that he’s pressing to your thighs, you know he isn’t actually mad
just being his regular wooyoung-ish self…
jongho
oh you think he’s a teddy bear? wrong; during aftercare you’re his teddy bear and there’s nothing you can do about it!
because he’s way too strong for you to escape from the grasp he has on you, no matter how much wriggling you do
it’s fine though, because jongho always keeps. a bottle of water by his bed and a few snacks in his drawer and a pack of baby wipes too
you literally don’t even have to move from his arms for him to take care of you; everything you need is right there!
of course when you tell him you need to use the bathroom he’s pouting, but then you tell him he can come with you and he’s happy again
he doesn’t consider the fact that he can’t squeeze you to death when you’re actually on the loo, so when he realises that he’s pouting again
literally clings to you the moment you stand up, wasting no time in dragging you back to bed for more cuddles
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HAVOC!
suguru geto x f!reader smut! heed the warning below 🎀
This fictional work contains smut, slight dumbification, use of pet names such as ‘little one’ ‘little girl’ ‘sweet girl’ and so on, name calling, suguru is a harsh cult leader but soft for reader, use of “i love you” and such, rough sex, oral sex. Enjoy! MINORS DNI! strict harsh rule.
Apologies for typos/grammar errors, english isn’t my first language and i have yet to write in a long time. Thank you for your patience.
🎀Masterlist🎀
Suguru geto knows you like the back of his hand, he knows what makes you tick, what makes you snap, what makes you smile, what makes you crave, what makes you desire for more. He appeared nonchalant, like he cares about nothing, only putting forefront his dream of an all-country of Jujutsu sorcerers. But little does people know, he studied you like he studied all the curses each night, tentatively soft, agonizingly deep, tantalizingly slow, and irrevocably shake your entire being.
He not only consumes you, but he can never get enough of you. Your high is his strength, your pleasure is his passion, your cries are melodies in strings for him. People worshipped him on a daily basis, on their knees, but oh… nothing can top the way he knelt down in front of you each night. Hair up in a bun, eye smile prominent as his slender fingertips stroke your inner thighs gently. His breath against your oh so sensitive skin makes you crazy, his coos drives you feral.
He looks so serene like, dreamlike— but he went havoc inside, his mind scrambled, wired to the highest level of obsession for you. Pleasing you is his only goal. He’d make you beg, say “Please Sugu… t-touch me— ah! deeper” like the evil cult leader he is, but he insistingly craves your undivided mind. Unrelenting heart. Undeniable pleasure above all else.
“Patience my love, didn’t I train you to be an obedient little girl, hm?”
He taunts, shaking his head as he continues his endeavor on your inner thighs. Kissing slowly up your calf, to your thighs, and up, up, up. Your breath hitched, feeling his lips ghosts over the soft surface of your tiny leaking cunt. Back arching ever so slightly as he chuckled deeply, as if he’s enamored by your struggle to stay still.
“Ah ah ah, what did I tell you? stay still or this needy and flushed little cunt won’t get to cum.”
“C-can’t! if you.. oh fuck! if you keep teasing m-me, can’t hold it..” You mewled as tears gather in your eyes, tears he so desperately wanted to taste yet degrade you at the same time. Oh, you look so divinely cute like this. Whimpering, whining, and begging him to do something. Giving him every inch of power, the power to not only your release, but also your ability to even move let alone feel the copious amounts of pleasure.
Geto Suguru might be a vicious cult leader but he is not a man without remorse, he values you, he would die for you, and he would give you the world, and if it’s pleasure you want, he’d give it to you each minute of your life. He shakes his head at you before slapping 4 of his fingers on your clit, causing you to deeply arch your back, and let out a high pitched whine.
“mm— mmh! oh sugu!” You wailed a wanton amount, enough for the whole temple to shake due to the sheer pleasure you’re feeling. The white pain mixing with adrenaline sends you right to the edge of teetering release. “Can’t you please just— Ah! fuck me already!” There it is, your bite brattiness that he oh so dearly loved and hated at the same time.
If only his cock is not straining and peeking through his robe, he would spend the next 7 days with you here, in his holy chambers to teach you lessons on how to be obedient. But alas, he is going to save the taming for later.
Suguru groaned as he manhandled you to your front, propping your stomach with a nearby velvet pillow and making sure your back is perfectly arched whilst your ass is up in the air for him, all exposed and tempting for his lustful eyes, and ravenous appetite.
“You look so good like this, my slutty little goddess. I wonder how those lowlife men would think if they were to find someone they worship to be such a whorish harlot, hm?”
His tone is as teasing as his actions, such filthy words accompanied by your moans as you felt him slowly tapping his hard cock against your weeping cunt. “Tell me, little one. Hm, how would they think?” Finding no answer from your panting figure, he tugs your hair with his other hand and yank backwards.
Your back is so deeply arched, pupils blown, cheeks flushed, and mouth hanging open. Just like he said, a whorish harlot. “I- I am.. yours only, Sugu. Your—mmh… girl! your queen! your… slut.” You whispered the last bit as your eyes drains with tears, lips bitten with desire.
Suguru smiled, before finally relinquishing yours and his agony by sliding his cock inside your tight cunt with a swift thrust, making you both scream and grunts in pleasure. One of his hand on your waist tightens and the one on your hair tugs ever so gently, trying to take away the painful stretch.
Suguru’s length is not one to take easily, his girth is thick and long, slightly curved up top with curated veins running along the side. If you weren’t so cockdrunk you would be sucking the soul out of him right now.
“Fuck— your cunt is so perfect little one, I almost feel —bad ruining you.” His voice is rough and thick with lust. Hair falling from his neat bun as his pace increases. In… Out… In… Out. Steadily drilling into you as your eyes roll onto the back of your skull. Ecstasy clouding you as he mercilessly pound deep, so deep that you feel him bulge on your lower stomach.
“S-sugu! please please!” You don’t know what you pleading for either, he is pounding into you with such vigor, his pace never relenting. Suguru chuckled breathlessly. “What is it, sweet girl? hm? Aren’t I fucking you good?” Just then, his grip on your hair lessen.
Just as you’re about to answer, his hand pushes your face onto the soft mat below, as he continue pounding your now gushing cunt.
“S-so! Oh! good… Sugu!” Your screams are muffled as to your cheeks are pressed against the mat. Your head went to cloud nine as his curved tip hit the gummy spot right inside your warm cunt. “there! r-right there please! please mmh Sugu!” tears are now falling freely down from your face.
Suguru took a brief moment to admire your beauty, looking down as he saw your face all ruined, cheeks flushed, with your puffy bitten lips hung open… drips of saliva coating the mat. Its so sinful, but god does he love it. He loves you so much.
“My dumb little girl, just love getting her needy cunt fucked hm? there sweetheart? yeah feels good doesn’t it?” He up his pace, even if you thought that was impossible. His cock continues to drill inside you with the tip expertly hitting your heavenly spot.
You gasped for air as you can feel your climax reaching when Suguru let go of your hair and went to rub quick eights on your weeping clit. “Oh god! oh i’m gonna cum mmh Sugu!” You’re no longer thinking straight, neither is Suguru as he feels you tighten and tighten, muscles contracting— evidently suffocating his cock in the most pleasant way.
“Don’t you dare cum yet, little one.”
“No no please i need to—“
“No no no little girl, hold it.”
Your whole body shake as he keeps on pounding you from the back, his index finger on your clit is making you so dizzy. So overwhelmed by the need to cum. To just give in. The intense pleasure of his cock inside your wet cunt is just unlike any other.
“I cant.. i cant sugu mmh ah!” Your head trembles as you claw your nails onto the mat, your pussy clenching so tightly, Suguru thought that if his cock were to fall, he’d die a happy man inside you.
“Cum, now. Right now give it to me, baby, cmon” Suguru pistons his hips with slower pace but deeper, sliding himself unbelievably full to your cunt, with a prominent bulge on your lower tummy.
You let out high pitched scream that drifted into thin air as you finally cum. Gushing over and over again as your body trembled and twitch at the sheer intensity of the pleasure.
“mmh fuck! fuck sugu! i l-love you! so much please inside!” You babbled out as you ride out your high, your walls clenching with various rhythms against his cock making him threw his head back, with messy bangs covering his face.
“You want it inside hm? yeah sweet girl? you want it deep so you know who you belong to?” His palm find their way onto your chin before tilting it up gently to look at him, you’re doe glassy eyes staring onto his frantic blown black pupil. You let out a drunken smile in pure ecstasy.
“Yes! yes please just c-cum inside, wanna feel you, wan’ feel all of you..” Your tone is softer but oozes with neediness all the same, wanting that familiar feeling of his warmth inside of you.
“Fuck I love you so fucking much my insatiable little girl.”
and you know the night is far from over, as evident in the morning when the servants come in to deliver breakfast, only to find both their masters snuggled in a place that looked like been wrecked by a havoc.
Written by Insufferablelust on tumblr 2024.
No copying is allowed.
#insufferableblurb#smut#geto suguru smut#geto smut#suguru smut#jjk smut#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#suguru x reader#jjk x reader#deva writes#insufferablelust#jujutsu kaisen smut
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