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sundrlands · 4 months ago

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‘significance’ j. sunderland x reader

minors dni

cw: light face slapping, light scent kink, sub/top j. sunderland x dom/bottom reader, oral, breath play if you squint, breeding kink, light spit play, dry humping. no depictions of specific characterizations in regards to the reader’s looks. reader has she/her pronouns.

summary: what happens when two deprived people meet by accident? a server and that odd man who’d always come to drink coffee every morning at 6am. from awkward conversation to a dinner that turned into rough, needy indulgence. it was easy, a deprived little thing like him… it was just too significant.

a/n: this is years after the events of sh— no mentioning of the events either. forgive me if this is all over the place… it’s definitely a long one. i kind of went wild while writing this one. there’s more smut than there is plot but nonetheless… i hope you enjoy my very first james sunderland fic.

there he goes again… that odd man… in the same spot he’d always sit in. the farthest table by the window with no one to accompany him besides himself.

james… that was his name. james sunderland.

he was kind enough to tell you this after the tenth time he’d come in. you didn’t have to ask or even tell him your own name… mostly because you didn’t know how to approach that level of conversation. you were just a server— giving the customers phony smiles, a ‘hi, how can i help you today?’ and the fakest kind of enthusiasm when any other would try to offer a joke out of curtesy.

yet something about him… his somber eyes— with light wash of rosy pink coloring the bags underneath them— that looked as if he was deep in thought… as if he were to be troubled by something… or someone from his past… the short stubble that grazed over his chin and upper lip, and his body language that seemed as if he never wanted to be bothered or probably never slept. his gaze always wandered around the diner, out the window or at the soft ripples within the mug he’d hold. sometimes… you found him staring at you, nervously looking away whenever your eyes connected. you never understood why though or what he could be thinking each time he looked at you, so you never asked or gave it much question.

james was just a stranger who came at the same time, almost every single day— six in the morning, as the sky still glowed its grey hues— not a minute early. not a minute late. the bell from the diner’s door ringing loud and brash with the thick of his boots stepping on every creaking, rotten floor board.

each time he’d come, you’d watch him to see if he’d do anything different. maybe he’d add in a sugar packet… two or three… or maybe he’d get a breakfast sandwich like mr.colemen always did— the trucker who you knew had a wife but still flirted with the older cook, ms.miles on tuesdays— or maybe he’d bring in someone he knew to occupy his time… he didn’t. it was the same each time. he’d arrive, ask for seating and sit— not wanting anything else but his coffee— black. no sugar. no cream, just like he liked it he said. he’d watch the steam from his cup vanish until it ran cold then take his sips that felt like a lifetime in between each one.

you couldn’t lie… you were fairly intrigued by him… it wasn’t as if you hadn’t had regulars come in just as much he does, if not more, but something about him seemed different… the expression he always wore… he always seemed so lost in thought yet… so attentive in his surroundings. something in you wanted to know who he was.

each time you gave him a cup of his favorite black coffee, you couldn’t help yourself but try to formulate conversation after he gave out his name… but he was always just so fucking vague… each sentence he spoke was watered down— that trickled slow like shallow water… simplistic and dry, running in a soothing hum.

it was pretty. the way he spoke.

you told him that too. a gentle, ‘you have a nice voice’ after he sung a sweet ‘thank you’ after setting the coffee down in front of his hands. he was awkward about it, like he hadn’t received a compliment like this one or a compliment at all. no words given other than that, having the conversation run flat and you walking away in regret thinking, ‘maybe that was too much’.

it only took one day when you had been off shift to see him sitting at a park bench, the one at the end of the town with his hands in his pockets, back slouched and those same somber eyes staring into the park’s pound to finally sit next to him and not feel the dynamic imbalance hit you like how it did in the diner.

“james!” your breath creating its soft clouds within the cold air as you softly spoke, vanishing as it rose.

“ah!” he hummed, “funny to see you here.” he looked at you… the blonde strands flowing against the wind, his attention fully on you instead of him quickly trying to look away. it was direct, like he stared from within your body… you didn’t expect a person like him to have such good eye contact… it almost made you nervous.

“no coffee today?” you replied, offering a smile.

“afraid not. im just on my lunch break… needed some fresh air.”

“may i ask where you work? hope that’s not improper of me to ask.” you laughed quietly, taking a real good look at him. he was almost like a statue… a rugged one. his lack of fashion sense…and his ability to hold so much expression all the while it being so bland and so cold.

he chuckled, shaking his head as he turned his head back towards the pond, “no… no it’s not ‘improper’. it’s just an office job. pretty boring id say.”

“fitting.” you replied, “not that you’re boring! just… seems like a occupation you’d have is all.”

“i wouldn’t say that you’re wrong even if you did say that.” giving yet another humming chuckle.

you stayed for the time he had to spare. the conversation going just as you thought it would… awkward but he was sweet nonetheless. though it was the way it was, his words flowed with every sentence he spoke, like the gentle stream of the pond in front of you both or the thick clouds that scattered in the grey sky. it took you just a few moments to notice how pretty that man was. he exuded such odd comfort… and warmth that made you want to keep talking to him. listen to anything he said even if it meant nothing or sounded humorously stupid.

“well.” he sighed, grunting as he stood, “id love to keep… talking, but i have to go back.”

you nodded, exchanging your goodbyes as you watched him walk down the park’s path until his body disappeared in the distance.

and so, from then on it had been easier to talk to him. finding any way to get to know more about the odd man who only drank black coffee and stared at you from time to time. it started just at your workplace, quick and steady back and forth talk then at the park, then offering a time to spend together on your off day for breakfast.

that was the first time he had something other than coffee. it was the first time you saw him smile more than once… not a faint one… a real one— seeing how his teeth jumbled at the bottom of his mouth or the harsh smile lines appear by the sides of his lips.

the more you looked, the more you conjured how pathetic of a man james really was. his life seemed so dull… just like the springs occasional showers and faded blue skies… but he was like the sweetness of june— the warmth within this man was little to none but still, he captivated you with his odd charm even if he tried or didn’t. you couldn’t help yourself but to think it was so easy to get him flustered, to have him smile whenever you showed interest in whatever he spoke about… like a lost puppy who finally got attention after being alone for so long.

a slip of a compliment flowed in almost every other sentence, seeing him stutter in his words, choking up a thank you whenever he could. it was amusing… like an addiction. sewing your way into his life was oh so significant. he considered you a ‘friend’ to put it lightly, one who obviously stared at you whenever you weren’t looking: like at the pier. you stood in front of him, hearing the crows sing and the water waves crash against the wood— he’d eye down your frame, seeing the way your clothes hugged your form… dissociating the world’s music around you both with an open mouth and twiddling fingers.

each time, you acted as if you hadn’t noticed and maybe you were just that good for him to not pick up on it whenever you failed to mention or question why he’d stare so goddamn much. it didn’t matter anyway, you liked it just as much as he liked staring at you.

he’d sit stiff, noting how erect his back would be whenever you placed your hand on his shoulder, a soft grip given as you both spoke about whatever. he’d clear his throat whenever you stood a little too close to him, rubbing the tapered part of his hair on the back of his head with a line of ‘uh’ and ‘ums’ in between each word he spoke.

god… this man was just so pathetic.

“why don’t we have dinner?” you smiled as you turned towards him, the bustling chatter amongst the passing people as you both walked down the same park you and him had your first real conversation.

“oh.” he chirped, a quiet laugh intertwined in his speech, “sure. where?”

“my house.” you answered confidently. through the few months of you being his ‘friend’, it only seemed right, so you told him. you wanted him in a place of vulnerability. to rule out every other being that’d pass by or surround you while in public. you just wanted it to be you and him. him and you. “if that’s fine by you. im not too bad of a cook.”

“your house?” his voice fell flat but it was nothing that worried you. the ring of his monotone voice was thick and with how he reacted to your small gestures, you knew he was more than willing to oblige. “you don’t mind me… coming to your house?”

you gave a little nod and he gave a gentle smirk. james didn’t know what could happen once the dinner would happen but he had no reason to disagree… or even want to. he grew accustomed to your company, more than any coworker he had that tried to gather him for night drinks after tough shifts… or even the women who were so abrupt in their interest in him… the thin pencil skirts and revealing blazers. he didn’t care.

a date was given. four days from then after his early ending shift. and so time flew. he hadn’t come to the diner at six in the morning like he did, he wasn’t even at the spots he’d sit during his breaks from work. a part of you had been worried if he tried to avoid you, wondering why you haven’t seen him since your request. he wasn’t good at texting— sending him a ‘hi’ would only result to him replying a ‘hey’ three days later. you almost didn’t buy the groceries you needed to prepare or an outfit that wasn’t too much but definitely would grasp his attention.

luckily you did.

it had been the day and it was five in the afternoon, the sun setting itself and the wind blowing more rapidly, flowing with the night’s usual atmosphere. james stood at your door with the address you gave him not too long after he agreed for the dinner you proposed. he just stared at it’s wood, his heart racing without his mind fully understanding why. he was a grown man but too afraid to see your face until this very moment. so he’d stay in the house longer than he needed to without going to the diner in the mornings. he’d stay in his cubicle on his lunch break, finishing any extra assignments he needed done for his boss.

moments spent with his feet planted on the ground before he gave three knocks at your door. he waited, only for a minute before you opened the door. you were dressed so nicely opposed to his work outfit still on and the light fragrance of the food fumigating in the air, hitting his nose.

“you’re here.” you spoke, relieved that he hadn’t stood you up. “come in.”

and so he did. small talk was given, complimenting your abode and trinkets you had scattered all about, admiring the personality your home gave opposed to his apartment that was just there… only the essentials, almost soulless. you thanked him of course, going on about little things as he listened before you finished all that needed to be done for dinner— it was pasta. simple and easy to not fuck up.

two plates placed with wine in crystal glasses and forks being spun. you connected over the flavor of the sauce and the warmth of the garlic bread that complimented the pasta. everything went smoothly, more than you thought it would’ve. easy conversation with the add in of knowing more about who james was… though he was his usual vague self.

you couldn’t pinpoint why he had been or what was truly on his mind. in certain instances, he’d drift off, his eyes wavering with a slow chew before ending his sentence with something mundane. your curiosity kept prodding with each question you gave— he didn’t show feeling of intrusion but he wrapped around certain topics leaving you needing more to be answered.

it felt like twenty one questions… moreso… him answering yours than you were with his but his composure and hospitality hadn’t changed from his kind and awkward demeanor he’d always give. it took awhile before you realized you had been digging in his chest like a crow on a rotting corpse before you covered your mouth with a soft, inaudible gasp.

“ive been blabbering…” you say, shyly laughing as you continued the last of what was left on your plate.

“no.” he responded, his voice trickling like soothing raindrops against a windowsill, “you’re just curious.”

“that i am.” your eyebrows raising as you sipped the bitter red liquid of your wine, “but you’ve had enough.”

he shook his head, wiping his mouth with a nearby napkin as he gulped, “i enjoy the conversation. i just have a lot in my past im not too fond of is all.” you noticed his eyes again… that troublesome look… the blank stare. whatever happened seemed to had never left him. james was like a puzzle piece… all scattered… some pieces missing so the full picture could never be seen or even admired.

“don’t we all…” pursing your lips as you set your glass down, “…but that’s the beauty of life, yes? it’s shitty… things come and go. regret… wrapped in solace. but that only means you can make happier memories.” trying to be positive to remove anything he had stored in thought.

you saw his shoulders relax from its usual tension, his eyes finding their way towards yours with a thick silence being transferred between you two. “yeah.” he spoke, breaking the silence momentarily before it fell back. the white noise… the gentle buzz cradled your eardrums, sitting like a stone in both of your seats.

the contact between your eyes spoke a million words… ones that haven’t been spoken out loud— it was of interest, undeniable lust. from his constant gaze from when you once were strangers… his usual order of coffee, to the moments you spent together in numerous places to now. those pretty light eyes shook as they bounced from each part of what your body showed at the table. they were quick… hungry… without any hesitancy. he dared not to look away, enjoying the visual of your being in a place with no one around, just you both.

as for you… the feeling of his eyes felt like fire caressing your skin… as if his wherever his pupils directed themselves, you could feel. it felt like fingertips gliding underneath the fabric of your clothes… just as when he ate… the way his lips latched onto the silver of his fork— the unintentional sensual gesture as he slid it from his mouth and chewed. the coat of spit that was left across it, and the delicate way he held onto the spine of the wine glass. you wanted to replace the flavor of your homemade sauce with the flower of your labia… to feel the latch of his lips against your breast or on the sides of your neck. the way he ate gave you an intense feeling of need… greed… swelling indulgence. not to mention his goddamn voice… the voice you were already so found over— the subtle cracks and dips between certain vowels… how deep it was… how gentle it felt amongst the silence.

“james..?” you questioned, tilting your head slightly, almost in a trance by the tone of your voice.

he gulped roughly, already sensing whatever you were going to say by the look you gave. “yes?”

“may i kiss you?” the words flowing softly within a sigh, holding your breath as you waited for his answer.

he just stared at you, eyes blinking like a cat in comfort as he continued to stare. moments past… which felt like hours before he nodded.

you stood from your seat, his attentiveness not failing to follow you in whichever way you went, slowly walking towards him with your hand sliding against the rough stubble on his face. he exhaled through his nose, his eyes shutting closed, his body melting into your touch as if he longed for such embrace. he hummed… the vibration flickering against the tips of your fingers before you felt the warm air of his exhale against your lips. slowly you leaned, shaky breaths with a soft press of the lips.

his lips were so soft yet stiff, a long press, occupying the other side of his face with yet another hand, pulling his face closer to yours as you deepened it. james let you lead, his rough calloused hand grazing against your wrist with a gentle grip, simultaneously pulling you closer to his embrace.

at the touch of his lips, you felt yourself get jolted with pleasure in between your legs, the softness rushing to a hungered one— his lips opening, allowing your tongue to push through and taste the sweetness of his of spit. his mouth was warm and the muscle of his tongue slid into yours as spit started to slide down his chin… quickening breaths and an even louder hum than he ever gave.

with the sharp sound of the chair scraping against the floorboards, he scooted back, you unconsciously sitting onto his lap just to feel the growing bulge against his work pants. you sat right on it, feeling it press against your clothed cunt with a groan that wrapped around your tongue and down your throat. he felt big, and the throb of it excited you, having your hips think on its own with a heavy yet slow rut.

the hands that held onto your wrist fell at your hips, the tightness of his fingers digging into you as if he’d never want you to leave from his touch. your bodies molded into one, your breasts pressing against his heaving chest with your hands now gripping the back of his neck.

at release, your forehead pressed against his… his deep gasps sounding pathetic and irregular, lips ajar, trying to savor the feeling of your lips that were once on his. the creek of the chair upon your slow grinds were loud and obnoxious but that didn’t stop you from adding on more friction, loving the feeling of his hardening cock against you.

“let me… do what i want to you… let me make you feel good.” you whispered against his lips, feeling your words being sucked from his quickening gasps.

“please.” he whined… a sound you’d never heard before from a man, let alone one of business. his willingness in the subtle acceptance of him submitting to you had your mind fill with haze. the glisten of his eyes pleaded for something… anything… like he had never been touched before. “please…”

his face leaned in the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against the warmth of your skin, sharp inhales, devouring the perfume that coated it. light peppering kisses lining up and down, all along the side of your jaw. a smile crept up on your lips… you knew just from the sight of him that he was just a pathetic little thing. and with the way he acted just from a kiss… how hard he got with you sitting on his lap, you knew that whatever you did he’d grant you a reaction that would be better than any man has ever gave you or will give you.

you gripped the back of his head, a drunken stare as his lips still purse from the abrupt release of his kiss. “wait.” you breathed, pressing your finger in the center of his lips. he was so tantalizing… his eyes drooped with anticipation, knowing that since he has you now… his self control was little to none.

at the side of you finger, he kissed it, holding onto your wrist as you placed another finger against his lips. you watched and he watched you— his mouth slowly opening and guiding his fingers against his tongue. with hallowed cheeks he began to suck, bobbing his cute head down to the knuckle. curling your fingers, you felt his tongue slither in between, spit messily sliding down your palm and arm.

“good boy..” you praised, your voice in sync with the sounds of his sucks— a deeper whine trembling against your fingers at the sudden pet name.

you grinned, cocking an eyebrow at his reaction. he liked that? you thought. seems fitting.

sliding your fingers from his mouth, you gripped his chin, a gentle press given, “watch me.” you whisper and with a pull at your top, he watched. his eyes directing themselves at your breasts with an even quicker and excited exhale exuding from his whining lips. eyebrows furrowing at the need to touch, his hands hesitantly removing from your hips and curling, waiting for the okay to be able to grope them upon your request. unclasping your bra, they drooped prettily in his face, letting whatever you took off hit the floor beside the chair.

“come on pretty boy… touch them.” you slurred, your voice seductive, teasing him, watching how his eyes never left, just opening at the sight of your bare breasts. “i know you want to.”

he sighed, one that was pent up and riddled with eagerness. “oh my god…” his voice shook. james was driven by the lustrous nature of your body. captivating by the sounds that fell from your lips and the commands you spewed— each word directed itself at his cock, feeling it twitch and tighten at his pants. the way you were entranced by his eyes as he was with yours, looking up at them with admiration, need and desire that festered throughout his body, making him burn at the touch.

doe and gentle with a sweet song flowing in the disguise of a moan he sung. the single free strands laying against his skin, complimenting with the reds that blossomed at his cheeks.

‘i want her… i need her… all of her… i want it. i want it. i want it. i want it.’ he chanted in his brain— feeling as if he was going to pass out at how hard he was breathing— his hot mouth curling at the warm bud of your breast, tongue flicking at it’s hardened tip, pulling back with the gentle graze of his teeth until a pop was heard, pressing a series of kisses around your breasts.

you were drunk off the man. that poor pathetic odd man. his body calling for more… groping your breasts with vigor, feeling the shortness of his nails digging and molding them to his liking… and the little broken noises he made, so soft and sweet, higher than his usual tone. a fleeting glint of mischief glistened in your eyes, letting out a chuckle.

“that’s it…” your voice trailed, lifting your hips, starting to bounce on his lap, granting a broken moan to feather against your nipple.

“god… fucking dammit..” he exhaled, gritting his teeth as his body sunk into the chair, his feet planted harsher on the floorboards, bucking his hips upward, feeling the weight of you created more friction, his swelling cock pulsating. “don’t stop… please.” he whined, eyes squinted as drool fell from the side of his trembling lips.

your hands running in his warm blonde strands, “that’s a good boy.” you tightened your gasp, pulling it with a yank. he blinked slowly with a coo, “you like it when i bounce on it?” you teased.

he nods. his poor hips already tiring out, them stuttering at every upwards thrust. “yes ma’am… fuck it feels… it feels so good.”

planting your hands at his chest, you felt the fast pace of his heart, running your palms up his body until your fingers wrapped around his slender neck— each digit falling into his skin, hearing his strain. “poor baby… you wanna feel more don’t you?” you grunted, his head tilted back with your face hovering his. with a slight cock of your hand, it collided with the softness of his cheek, a loud yelping moan bouncing along the dining room walls.

“fu… fuck…” he stuttered, his lips almost at pout.

no woman had ever treated him this way, so rough and teasing and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. his nerves was heightened as his cheek burned with the faint remnants of your palm. never did he think he’d enjoy something like this, in fact… he was left speechless. the sight of his eyes looking more pleasing than they already looked. they never looked away from you, wanting to get every expression you gave… watching your lips as they continued to taunt him, needing to see the way your breasts bounced as you continued to rut against his lap above his pants.

“oh?” you chirped, noticing the deepening submission in his glare. “you liked that didn’t you?” your hips now stopping in its place.

weakly, he laughed, “i do.” his voice still so sultry and deep.

leaning closer to his face, your lips feathered his, exchanging breaths with shared smiles, “go on your knees and take it out for me.” your other hand sliding down slow until it cupped his bulge. removing yourself from his lap, now standing.

he lifted himself off the chair, taking off his bottoms and boxers. there he sat, like an obedient little thing, on his knees— his thick dick laying and jerking at every throb as it laid so delicately against his thigh— staring up at you adoringly with gleaming eyes, as if he had been admiring a star.

it wasn’t as if you necessarily thought about what he looked like underneath his boxers, but the sight of it made your eyes sparkle— it was so thick and long, it made your mouth water.

“james…” shocked and even more turned on at how pretty his dick was. the light graze of his brown pubes looking well kept. “fuck it’s so pretty.” running your finger down its side, hearing the most pathetic moan fall from his lips— his fists balling at the sudden touch. “needy little thing you are.”

it was cute. from the little slap you gave him and the way he wanted you to have your way, it only fed into the desire to treat this boy with some excitement. that dull life he had was now changed as thoughts puddled at your brain seeing this man look so weak as you stood to look at him.

“such a pathetic… pretty man.” you cooed, tilting your head, “and look at your dick.” his eyes dropping to watch it leak and pool at the flesh of his thigh. “it’s excited for me isn’t it?”

his fingers wrapping around his shaft, needing some type of friction… it was starting to get painful with how long it hadn’t been touched bare. whenever he was turned on in the comfort of his home, he’d jerk himself off until he fell asleep. over and over again until his wrist burned and his throat dried. he had no self control and with you around, he could cum just from your voice.

“take your hand off.”

“god i just…” he whimpered.

“mmh mmh.” your head shook, as you bent down, “hands off. i tell you when you can and can’t, do you understand?” placing your finger underneath his chin to raise it, seeing gentle plea in his eyes.

“yes ma’am.”

he felt belittled, unable to control his own person. a quick shiver fell down his spine, leaning closer into your embrace… just the soft touch of your finger gave him a bolt of pleasure. knowing if he touched himself, you’d slap him in retaliation. oh how he so desperately wanted that.

you unzipped your pants, stepping out from them, alongside your panties, already dripping against the inner of your thigh. placing a palm at the top of his head, your fingers gripped tight, angling yourself in front of his face.

he gulped roughly, staring at the swelling of your clit. “lick it.” without hesitation, his face fell in between your legs, his curved nose nudging against your clit as he inhaled, lapping his tongue in between the folds of your pussy.

the scent of it drove him wild— eyes rolling back as he continued to inhale, loud enough for you to hear. he smothered himself, the muscle of his tongue thickening with his lips latching it just to get the taste of you fully.

you were taken aback at how skilled his tongue was, how his nose stimulated your clit so lovingly with each bob of his head. obnoxious sucks radiated in the air with his fingers clasping against your thighs, hard enough to hurt.

moans trickled from your throat, gasping on the thick of the air, guiding him with the hand that gripped his hair. his tongue plunged deeply into your pussy, feeling his mold his muscle inside of your fleshy walls, thrusting his head to fuck your opening.

you felt yourself already needing to cum and that has never happened before. at least not this quick. the softness of his lips sucked so roughly and his tongue flicked so fast, your knees buckled inward, unable to keep up with the pace of his mouth.

“james…” your moans heightening in volume, your chest deepening after every breath you took, “your fucking mouth…”

his hair, all tattered and messy, with his eyes reddened from it almost tearing up because of the lack of air he was given, not stopping for a second as he drank in your arousal and your moans. a tingling sensation bounced off his body, circling through each part of his limbs.

the sounds of his sucks almost overpowering your moans itself, as he felt your meaty pussy flutter in and out his mouth loving how full you made his mouth.

“i can’t stop,” he gasped against your cunt, “it’s just so good… i love it, i fucking love it. fuck… fuck…” nothing in this man’s brain could made him stop. it was like he pushed himself in between your legs like he wanted to be apart of you— keeping his strength in his neck to keep his same motion.

removing himself to breathe, he gathered spit, directing at your clit and watching it drip before catching it in his mouth, rolling his tongue along the hood of your clit before latching on with hallowing cheeks. sucking in air, your body curled forward, feeling two of his fingers slide in the opening of your pussy. they curved as they started with long strides.

that ‘odd’ man surely knew how to please a cunt. fingers picking up its pace with the loud wet sounds interweaving the moans you both sung. “yes… yes… james…” you panted, his wrist steadying, feeling you leak against and down his knuckles. your walls clamping on his fingers like a heartbeat.

“im gonna..” you announced, your body trembling more than you could even control, your legs giving out with him quickly holding you up as much as he could— his face deepening in your cunt, grunting as he felt you cum against his tongue.

“mmmhm” he hummed over and over again, feeling you shudder against his face.

falling to your knees, your face was angled with his— his mouth wet all from his nose down to his chin. the sight of you, trying to compose yourself from the orgasm you had made him feel dizzy. “feel good?” he whispered, trailing your face from where it hung low, catching your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips, running your tongue at the flesh of his bottom, sucking it in your mouth with small nips before pulling back.

forming spit in your mouth, you held onto his cock, an immediate grunt rupturing from his throat, letting the spit falling down at his tip. brushing your thumb over it, lathering your spit down to his shaft.

“tighter… please…” he mumbled, foreheads now pressing as he watched your hand wrap around his throbbing and slightly veiny shaft, rolling your wrist in circular and jagged movements. tighter you held, hearing the sound of his throaty moans.

“like this?” you breath, quickening your pace. he deserved it.

lifting the bottom of his shirt, he placed the cloth in his mouth, seeing the light spread of hair that tracked up his navel and a hollowing abdomen at every whine he let out. “yes..” he gritted through his teeth.

his precum swaying around from the vigorous speed that continued to grow. he held his breath, brows knitted, body tense at the rhythmic pattern, veins channeling on your forearm with your fingers glazing against the underside of his tip. “look at me.” you whispered, his eyes slowly traveled up your body until they locked with yours.

you spoke of lust in both your gazes, hearing the wetness of his spit coated cock at every pump, hunger radiating in you both like you desperately needed this— shameless and passionate intimacy.

your body yearned to feel him inside and the way he stared at you— the burning sensation it brought you— made it difficult for you. you wanted to feel him stretch your cunt. pushing him back by the press of your palm against your shoulder, he lay. hovering over him, wrapping your leg over his waist before angling yourself over him.

slowly you slid down on him, never feeling something as big as his. even just from the tip, you felt yourself gasp heavily as you kept lowering yourself down onto him. “fuck you’re so… big…”

james continued his whines, eyes closing tight, his body shuttered… you were so warm, your fleshy walls holding him so comfortably. bodies slowly enveloping on another as he tried to talk to your body with his hands— sliding against your thighs, up your waist and momentarily on your breasts.

“you….” he breathed, it hitching as he mindlessly held his breath, with you pushing more of him into you— textured and wet, with a heartbeat that cradled the shaft of his cock. “your pussy is sucking me in…” he groaned, his ass tensing.

all of you. the sight of it all, each movement you made. fuck, didn’t you drive him insane. at this moment, he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.

your pussy gripped his cock, deeper it went, as if your grip was unable to let him go. each moan you let out, your pussy clammed and mimicked each word as it pulsated against him.

he couldn’t stay still, whimpering as you started to lightly bounce against him— hands planted on his chest with a slight roll of your hips. you couldn’t believe how good he felt inside of you, how full he made you. with you already cumming, it was hard to keep yourself steady, feeling yourself break down each time you lowered yourself.

pressing his hand on your back, he turned you both, now with you on your back laid against the floor, “let me pleasure you… please.” he begged, both hands placed on the sides of your head.

“fuck me like the good boy you are…”

and with that, it was as if a switch had been turned on in his brain. using one hand to grasp your thigh, “like this?” he breathed, his words as slow as his thrusts, his drowsy-like eyes running up against your face. gritting his teeth, sucking on the cool yet hot air, eyebrows knitting together. he placed his forehead against yours, your hand now sliding up to his neck— the pads of your fingers and thumb pressing down the sides of it, slowly tightening your grip. with struggling breaths, his hips continuing his rhythmic thrust yet trying to find the spot, the spot that will lead you into ecstasy.

the hand that held your thigh pressed it down further, his knees fixing itself at a better position, now his groin aiming downwards. his thrust now falling into slow, hungry pounds, his balls hitting just above your asshole. “does it feel good here…?” leaning down as he pressed wet kisses at the edge of your lips.

all you could give were responding moans, your body overstimulated by every movement he made.

each inward thrust, you could hear skin slapping against one another, your breasts mashing into each other. lips trailing down to your cheek, then to your ear, his tongue running at the side of your ear then switching to the next, groaning a series of ‘fucks’ and your name as the thrust started to increase in intensity. they were once slow, now holding more power, grunting at each inward hit. “god. your… pussy… feels… so…. soo fucking… so goood…” each word ending in a hitch.

his voice now holding a deeper, grosser tone, more animalistic as he grew pussy drunk at how you wrapped around him.

he enveloped your lips, inhaling and capturing your tongue in his mouth, sucking on its pink muscle, bobbing his head and swallowing any ounce of spit that rolled down to the back of his throat. your tongue slipped from his mouth, pressing a long kiss against his lips once more.

your mind transversed across what could possible be the gates of fucking heaven at this point. each twist and turn of his hips hitting spots your fingers could possible never do, your damp walls clamping around his girthy cock—greedily needing to paint your insides with his cum, over and over again if he could.

"it feels good, it's so good...." you trailed off, lips pressing together as you muffled a few moans of satisfaction that sounded nearly like his name—the tip of his relentless cock hitting sweet, sweet spots with each charging pound. your hands removing themselves, now dragging and scratching into his back, tugging the flesh leaving continuous marks onto his skin— causing him to wince in blissful pain.

the reverberating sounds of your name rolling off his tongue along with the desperate whines and groans of pleasure only elevated your lust "you're obsessed with my pussy," you whined, head thrown back at the intense plunges against your favored spot.

your promiscuous ways dragging him down in the mud, wanting to rut and fuck you like an untrained animal. that alluring voice of yours, cracking into a moan after you tried so desperately to tease him.

your concaving walls collapsing at his cock, walls with a flowery texture that ran against the pulsating veins of his dick. your wails rushing to his dick alongside your suction— with each inhale making its grasp tighter than before. your folds clasping at the sides of his shaft at every pull.

he place a thumb so kindly pressed at your slippery clit. circling it slow, with rougher presses at each thrust, it’s hood pushing back, feeling your wet, exposed bud nudge at the skin of his thumb. each run around, he could hear it, how your slick found it’s way all the way to your clit, making it harder for his thumb to be held in place.

his body loosened, with his hips now controlled, it’s speed rising with a longer pull and harder pound, body muggy with a thin layer of sweat, with your face buried in the inner corner of his neck.

“i don’t ever want to stop fucking you… your pussy is too good.” his voice ridged and strained.

rhythmical slaps of wet skin colliding as his balls felt a sharp sensation each time it bounced against the sweetness of your hole. your pussy’s heartbeat causing his eyes to roll, holding his breath and letting it out shakily.

“fuck me just like that james… just like that.” your eyes widening with your legs wrapping around his waist. “im close!”

“i don’t want to stop fucking you… i wish i could fuck you nonstop… i want to keep going…” his chest madly rattling against his ribcage.

shivers cascading through your arms as they gripped his hair firmly once again. your beings were joined in such an impassioned, fervid act of lustful ignited bursting flames out of your bodies. “can i..." he breathed out, voice hoarse, “can i breed you… please… please..”

the walls echoed sounds of your repeated pleasure lamentations followed by his needy words and melting into the increasing melody of skin against skin, lead you over the hill, "cum inside! do it baby…" you uttered directly into his eyes, the familiar knot forming at the pit of your abdomen, convusling cunt tightening around his sliding shaft with each thrust.

he couldn’t stop himself, feeling you cum on his cock made him bury himself further inside, hot spurts of his own cum filling you with rolling eyes and harsh gasps. glazed spit lips, bodies trembling from their high, and strained moans.

his arms snake around your body, cum oozing down his balls and thigh. “fuck….” his body not even finished with his high, slow thrust to chase after the leftover high you both breathed out.

“god james… who wouldn’t known you fucked so well…”

laid out on the floor, you both tried to catch your breaths. the contrast between every moment of you knowing one another to now, fucking each other like your life depended on it, you couldn’t help but laugh.

how significant is it to have a simple man— attractive at that— with his usual order of black coffee in your house, fucking you without a care in the world.

you knew… this wouldn’t be the last time.

#james sunderland smut #james sunderland x reader #james sunderland #james sunderland silent hill #james x reader #silent hill 2 #silent hill 2 smut #silent hill x reader

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churipu · 1 year ago

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hii hope you’re doing good and taking care of yourself!! Can u do jjk men headcannons when their s/o is finds a bug and is telling them to kill it (can u also add nanami)

JJK MEN KILLING BUGS FOR THEIR PARTNER

featuring. nanami kento, gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing, bugs ew.

note. hii anonnn, as a person who despises bugs a lot. yes. this request is just *chefs kiss*, and i'm doing absolutely amazing bby, hbuuu?? i hope you like it and thank you so much for requesting mwah mwah <;33

AND U GUYS WE REACHED 800+ FOLLOWERS??? i really don't know what to say, thank you so much <33 this means a lot to me, and i feel so loved i'm gonna cry. i love u all

NANAMI KENTO. your knight in shining armor. the moment you called out for him in a voice lacing with worry, he just knows what was up — you'd be fifteen minutes in your shower, and nanami is in the living room watching the television until you call out to him. voice loud, mixing in with the vivid sounds of water pouring.

"ken!"

he jolts up in surprise and walked towards the bathroom door, raising his hand to knock on the door a couple times, "are you alright, sweetheart?" he asks.

"come in, please," your voice was meek, and he could hear the shower turn off.

the male slowly opens the door, and he could feel the steam from your shower caressing his face lightly. you were there, still inside the shower with a nervous smile and a towel wrapping around you, "bug. kill. please?" was all you said.

"where is it, baby?"

you pointed at the sink, and there it was — the sacred and vile being, just sitting there beside the sink. though, it was so little nanami almost laugh, but seeing his partner being terrified; he was not going to make fun of them, he finds it adorable actually. and glad that the first thing you decided to do was call him for help.

nanami didn't even use a tissue, no hitting, no slapping, no squishing; he just grabs the bug in his grasp and tells you to have a nice shower and left.

your knight in shining armor.

GOJO SATORU. little bastard would definitely be all bark and no bite, he's all about that "oh, it's just a bug, baby. it's not like it's going to kill you" or "come on, baby, what's a bug going to do?"

until it flies. and he uses you as a shield.

"y/n kill that disgusting thing! holy fuck, i'm going to die." he cowered behind you, pointing at a little bug just resting on top of the kitchen counter — you rolled your eyes at him, not even having the energy to be as scared as him anymore.

"oh, it's just a bug, satoru. it's not like it's going to kill you," you mimicked his words sarcastically, and the male glares at you, wrapping his arms around you.

"it flies," he mumbled lowly, "bugs that can fly are disgusting. and don't quote my words on me, it hurts my pride," he kisses your shoulder, almost pouting.

"rock, paper, scissors? loser kills it," you asked him, raising your balled up fist with a smirk on your face.

he sighs, "bring it on, loser."

gojo lost. it took him half an hour and half a can of bug spray along with a mask to protect his handsome face from a possible bug attack, a pan lid to use as a shield, and a sandal (for protection) to get rid of the said bug.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. ignores you at first because you couldn't actually be serious? a human scared of a bug? just the mere thought of it makes him break out into laughter.

until he actually realizes it was that serious.

"brat, are you really not going to come out because there's a bug on the door?" he asks out in annoyance, standing in front of the door where you were on the other side of the open door, nodding with a lop-sided grin.

"come on, ryo. i hate bugs, 've always told you that," you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

"it's a bug. it won't do anything," sukuna mutters out.

"bug bites kill more people than shark attacks every year," you informed him, drumming your foot as your anxious eyes looked over to the bug as it moves slowly all over the surface of the door, "ryo, please. just squish it."

"why don't you squish it?"

"because i'm scared."

"well, ha ha. i'm scared too," he tells you with a proud smirk, crossing his arms. he finds joy in seeing you like this, really — he finds it laugh worthy, sukuna could do this all day.

"huh. the king of curses having a fear of bugs? how cute." you muttered out.

alright, that took him by surprise. the male stomps over to the door and got rid of the said bug almost immediately, "'m not scared, i was just kidding."

"i know, i said that so you could kill the bug for me," you walked out of the door, brushing past him with a big smile.

sukuna 00

y/n 01

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negrowhat · 2 months ago

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Fave Kisses of 2024

Continuing on with the handful of prompts I chose to do from @babyangelsky 's 2024 QL Wrap Up!

JackJoke's First Kiss from Jack & Joker. Oh it was like the tension pot had finally started to boil. Just bubbling and brewing and steam was finally escaping...whistling even. Jack had returned home full on ready to finally confess and Joke, who already KNEW, was sitting there ready to receive his blessing. Oh Joke was so ready for that kiss that he practically climbed into Jack's lap to keep it going. You could see the hunger in Joke's eyes and Jack's eager but gentle approach to the kiss. 10/10.

Dohoe and Juyeong's Snow Kiss from Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo. Something about the way they kind of lost themselves in that kiss. I was shocked Dohoe kissed Juyeong out in the open like that, but he was in a different place in his journey so maybe it's not so shocking. Juyeong's hands around Dohoe's waist??? Oh it was my favorite part and my heart all but stopped when Dohoe suddenly came to his senses and pulled away.

GreatTyme's Guitar Kiss from 4 Minutes. That soft ass dream kiss from Dr. Tyme's 4 Minutes had me absolutely OBSESSED. Idk it was just so romantic and so sweet and so perfect. I could just feel the warmth coming from the bubble Tyme was dreaming about. Tyme's 4 Minutes is still my absolute fave part of the whole series.

Huai'en and Xiabao's First Kiss from Meet You At the Blossom. I've talked about it and talked about it and talked about it some more. None of y'all are surprised to see this kiss on this list. I don't even need to explain why because I'm sick of explaining lol. Go watch our first ever Uncensored Wuxia BL. Nothing is implied it's all there. Go watch it now! MYATB is from the same writer of My Stand-In if that helps.

Sickly Phaya kisses Tharn from The Sign. That man woke up from a coma (that almost supernaturally killed him), snatched out his IV, and escaped the hospital. And where did he go? Not to go check-in with his lil granny and baby sister! NO! He went to his man's house and shoved his tongue down his throat. Man was white as a sheet and all he wanted to do was get his dick wet. And Tharn just let him. I loved that kiss and the makeout session that followed.

YakDee over shoulder kiss from Wandee Goodday. Pretty certain it was from their last love scene because they were kissing. I don't even remember how the scene went exactly (they fucked so much) but that lil peck over the shoulder was so gorgeous. Yak had his chest pressed to Dee's back and the 'YY' necklace was displayed so clearly. 100/10.

XNamping's High Heat Encounter from Every You, Every Me. That little peck right before things started to heat up. Just a quick lil lip touch to gauge the temperature...y'know see if it's what they both really want. It is. I know X was FREAKING out, couldn't believe he was finally being intimate with his long time crush.

SanVee's final night kiss from Century of Love. I'm a huge fan of the soft cuddly kisses we got from SanVee and that snuggle session we got right before San's last day was my fave. The way San holds Vee to his chest so tightly as they share gentle kisses. The impending doom hanging heavy over their heads. It hurt so fucking good.

RyuZen's Shower Kiss from The Rebound. One thang MeenPing gon do is kiss in a shower and do it right. Meen's giant ass does a great job of making Ping look smol and when you add water to that it is just so visually pleasing. I don't remember much else about the kiss except Ryu was all over Zen and Zen almost couldn't keep up. If we get another MeenPing series I hope it can sit at the top next to Gangster Oppa.

2J Bathroom Kiss from CityBoy_Log. The most recent volume of CBL was really good for 2J. They had just made up after Jihan ghosted Jaejun and IDK how Jihan conned Jaejun into helping him bathe but they do wind up in the tub together, fully clothed though because Jaejun said he was just going to help him wash his hair. And the next thing I know Jihan has Jaejun pressed up against the shower wall. 2J's kisses tend to be very audible and this one was amplified and my gawd those boys can kiss. And when Jaejun slams Jihan against the other wall and they finally share their 'I Love You's I was clutching the pearls. I'm realizing I enjoyed CBL more than I thought.

SunJunior's First Kiss from Caged Again. Oh it was so sweet. Love that they were hiding under the covers. I love that Sun had finally told Junior about him being a panther. That's a big secret to share and it did give me Malec vibes which could also add to my love for the scene. Love that Junior smiled at Sun the whole time. It was a great first kiss during a vulnerable moment for Sun and Junior. Loved how warm and secure it looked under that cover.

To my mutuals, please forgive me if y'all have multiple mentions from this one post...

#jack and joker #jack & joker #let free the curse of taekwondo #4 minutes #meet you at the blossom #the sign #the sign the series #wandee goodday #every you every me #the rebound #the rebound the series #city boy log #cityboy log #caged again

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lilacliquors · 4 months ago

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kinktober day twenty five: shower sex

pairing: homelander x reader

word count: 729

notes: happy day twenty five! only six more to go, and then i have to decide if i wanna do ficmas again this year lol. anyways look at this man in his civilian clothes goodnight

the hot water felt like heaven on your body after a long day. it relaxed your muscles and helped you unclench your jaw, just what you needed. and when you felt a pair of warm hands on your body, and arms settling around waist, you smiled and leaned back into them.

“hey,” you murmured, your head settling on his chest.

“hi,” he muttered, burying his face against your neck. you knew then and there that he’d had a rough day, and all he needed was you. you felt his hands simply begin to roam your body, gliding over your wet skin, caressing your sides, your hips, your stomach. you closed your eyes as he did so, and you let out a soft sigh as his hands traveled lower. you hummed when you felt his fingers ghost over your pussy, and then they pressed against you.

“john,” you breathed, and he shushed you, pressing his lips just under your ear.

“quiet. i need this,” he said, his voice muffled slightly against your skin. one of his arms came up to wrap around your chest, and his other hand began to rub circles just over your folds. it applied a slight pressure to your clit, and it made you bite your lip.

your hands came up to hold onto his arm, the back of your head nuzzling against his chest as he continued to rub those circles. it was surprising to you how gentle he could be, which made it increasingly clear that he just needed the closeness. he could animalistic when he needed to blow off some steam, but with the recent changes at vought, the ousting of stan edgar as ceo and his takeover, you need he was too stressed to think too much about anything.

“mm …” you hummed again, feeling his fingers run along your slick folds before gently dipping between them. you exhaled slowly, then swallowed as he began to pump his index finger in and out of you, opening you up enough so he could add a second finger. your grip tightened on his forearm, and you pressed your back firmly against his chest.

“fuck,” he groaned, nosing the side of your head, taking a deep breath so he could smell your shampoo. he felt himself smile and familiarity, knowing that you continued to use the same scent he mentioned enjoying ages ago. it was nice to know that you did things to please him, to make his days a little brighter. of course, it was what you should be doing, in his opinions. after all, he was a supe, the most powerful man on earth. and you were just a human. he could do whatever he wanted with you, be as rough or gentle as he wanted, and he knew you would take it for him, because you were his good girl, and you always aimed to please him.

the speed of his fingers had increased as those thoughts wandered into his mind, and he only came back to reality when he felt you squirm against him. that sparked a strong desire in his gut, and he turned his head to nip at your neck as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.

“that’s it,” he groaned, listening to those shameless pants that left your lips. “feels so fuckin’ good, doesn’t it? feels good when i get to have my way with you …”

you nodded, your nails digging into his arm just to hear him groan again. you knew he enjoyed it when you gripped him tight, it made him feel wanted, needed, and he was. you loved him, cared for him, and made sure he always knew he had someone to come back to at the end of every day.

you could feel the muscles in your pelvis and stomach clenching, and he sunk his teeth into your neck as you came around his fingers. you nearly lost your balance, but he held you upright, still pumping his fingers in and out as you rode that high. when you finally calmed down, you felt him pressing kisses along your jaw, up and down your neck, and he smiled against your skin.

“that’s it. now, you’re gonna give me a few more, just like that. until the water bill is through the fucking roof. got it?”

all you could do was nod.

#homelander smut #homelander x reader #homelander kinktober #lilacliquors kinktober 2024 #kinktober2024 #kinktober 2024

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cherryxbooo · 12 days ago

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Left in the past and forgotten

Summary: Seeing your ex-lover after four years wasn’t something you ever expected. The memories of your time together, flooded back, making the moment even harder to face.

Note: Hey guys! I've finally decided to update my K-pop fics. I'm planning on adding more members soon, so keep an eye out for that! Also if you want me to add other groups/actors, let me know!

Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: angst/fluff

Snowflakes drifted lazily outside the café window, melting the moment they kissed the glass.

The world outside was a blurred canvas of white and gray, the winter storm painting Seoul in a soft, muted haze.

Inside, the café was warm, filled with the rich aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries, the gentle hum of conversations blending seamlessly with the faint jazz music playing overhead.

I curled my fingers tighter around the steaming mug in front of me, letting the heat seep into my skin.

Even with the warmth surrounding me, a coldness had settled deep in my bones, one that no amount of hot coffee could chase away.

I shouldn’t have come back.

The thought had been circling my mind since the moment my plane touched down, but now, sitting here in the heart of the city I once called home, it weighed heavier than ever.

Seoul was no longer just a place, it was a graveyard of memories I had buried, ghosts I had spent years trying to outrun.

And yet, they clawed their way back the second I stepped onto its streets.

Especially the one tied to him.

Kim Taehyung.

A name that had once been synonymous with love, with warmth, with the kind of happiness that felt boundless.

A name I had forced myself to forget.

But forgetting had never been my strong suit.

The bell above the café door chimed, signaling a new arrival, but I barely registered it.

My gaze remained fixed on the snowfall outside, my mind lost in the past, until I heard it.

A voice.

Deep, familiar, haunting.

“Y/n?”

My fingers stiffened around my mug.

My breath caught in my throat.

That voice.

Slowly, I turned my head, already knowing, feeling, who I would see.

And there he was.

Kim Taehyung stood a few feet away, frozen in place, his presence as effortless yet overwhelming as ever.

He wore a long beige coat over a black turtleneck, snowflakes clinging to the fabric like they were reluctant to melt.

His dark brown hair was slightly tousled from the wind, and his eyes, those deep, expressive eyes that had once held entire universes, were locked onto mine.

Shock? Regret? Relief?

I couldn’t tell.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

We just stood there, caught in the eerie stillness of an encounter that felt both impossible and inevitable.

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came.

And I understood why.

Because what do you say when the person you once loved, the person who disappeared without a word, reappears like a ghost from your past?

What do you say when the wound you thought had scarred over rips open again with just a glance?

Finally, I swallowed against the dryness in my throat, forcing myself to breathe.

“Taehyung.”

It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make something flicker across his face.

Something unreadable, something raw.

He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes searching mine like they were looking for answers, answers I wasn’t sure I could give.

“Is it really you?” he murmured, almost like he didn’t believe it.

I let out a shaky exhale, offering a small, hollow smile.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

His lips pressed together, his hands slipping into the pockets of his coat.

It was a nervous habit of his, one I hadn’t seen in years, but still recognized immediately.

I wanted to look away. I wanted to run.

But I couldn’t.

Not when the past was standing right in front of me.

Not when Taehyung was looking at me like I was still the person he used to know.

But I wasn’t.

I wasn’t sure if I ever could be again.

Loving Taehyung was like holding onto a fleeting dream, warm, intoxicating, beautiful, but never quite real enough to keep.

Six years ago...

I was standing in line at a small café, completely overwhelmed by the drink menu, and someone, chuckling behind me as I changed my order for the third time.

"You know, if you keep doing that, we’ll never get our coffee," the person teased, voice dripping with amusement.

Flustered, I turned around to see a man in a black hoodie and a face mask, only his sharp, smiling eyes visible.

"Maybe I just like weighing my options," I shot back, trying to sound confident.

His grin widened. "Or maybe you just don’t know what you want."

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

He was easy to talk to, effortlessly charming, and when he finally pulled down his mask, revealing who he was, my breath caught in my throat.

"You're—"

"Taehyung," he interrupted before I could say his full name, tilting his head playfully.

And you are?"

That was how it started.

A conversation over coffee turned into exchanged numbers. Then came the late-night texts, the phone calls that lasted until dawn, the stolen moments in between his busy schedule.

Before I knew it, he had become my favorite part of every day.

Two years after we had first met flew by and being with Taehyung was like stepping into a world that wasn’t meant for me, but somehow, he made me feel like I belonged.

"Come here," he would say after a long day, opening his arms as I curled into his chest.

His fingers would gently trace patterns on my back, his voice a soft whisper against my hair.

"I missed you today."

I missed him too. Always.

But I never told him how much, because I was afraid he would hear the sadness in my voice.

Our love lived in moments stolen from time, laughter tangled between bed sheets, whispered promises in darkened hallways, the way he would pull me into his arms just before he left and say,

"Wait for me."

And I did. I waited.

I waited when his texts became less frequent, when our dates were pushed back, when his voice on the other end of the phone started to sound more exhausted than excited.

I waited, even when it felt like I was slowly fading into the background of his life.

Then it slowly started to crack.

I felt like I was holding him back.

Holding him back from doing the things he liked.

But I was a human after all I craved my boyfriend's attention too. I wasn't going to tell him that though.

"Hey, can I see you tonight?"

I stared at his message, my fingers hovering over my phone.

I wanted to say yes. God, I always wanted to say yes.

But something inside me hesitated.

It had been three weeks since I last saw him, and even then, our time together had been cut short.

A meeting ran late. A rehearsal went overtime.

I knew that his life as an idol wasn't easy and that his life was always packed and busy.

I knew that before I started dating him but still...

He had held me for five minutes, kissed my forehead, and whispered, "Next time, I’ll make it up to you."

But next time never came.

So instead of answering immediately, I let my phone sit beside me as I stared at the half-eaten dinner on my table.

It was the third time this week I had eaten alone.

It wasn’t just the missed dates. It was the way he had started to feel like a guest in my life instead of a part of it.

When I finally picked up my phone, I typed out my response.

"I don’t know, Tae. It’s late."

He called me immediately.

"Are you okay?" His voice was laced with concern.

"I’m fine." The words felt like a lie.

"I can come over," he offered quickly. "Even if it’s just for a little while."

I squeezed my eyes shut. That was the problem. It was always just for a little while.

"It’s okay," I whispered. "Get some rest."

There was a pause. Then, quietly, "Are you upset with me?"

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "No, I just... I just miss you."

His sigh was soft, almost guilty. "I miss you too, love. Things will calm down soon, I promise."

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. "Yeah. Soon."

But I was starting to wonder if soon would ever come.

The night I decided to end things, Taehyung showed up at my apartment unannounced.

"Surprise," he said with a grin, holding up a bag of takeout from my favorite restaurant.

I wanted to be happy.

I wanted to throw my arms around him, pull him inside, and pretend that this was enough.

But something inside me cracked.

"You didn't text," I said quietly, arms crossing over my chest.

His smile faltered. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Tae... I waited for you last night."

His face fell completely. "I know. I'm sorry."

"You're always sorry," I whispered, voice breaking.

"But nothing ever changes."

The room fell into silence. He set the food down on my counter, his hands trembling slightly.

"I’m trying," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I believed him. That was the worst part, I knew he was trying.

But love shouldn't have to feel like this.

It shouldn't feel like constantly reaching for someone who is always just out of grasp.

"Taehyung, I can’t do this anymore."

His entire body tensed. He looked at me like I had just taken the air from his lungs.

"You don’t mean that," he whispered,

stepping closer, eyes searching mine for something, anything, that would prove this wasn’t real.

But I did mean it.

"I do."

His jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"You're giving up on us?"

"No," I said, shaking my head as my eyes burned with unshed tears.

"I held on for as long as I could. But I can't keep waiting for you to have time for me."

His breathing was uneven now. "You are my world, you know that."

I smiled sadly, my heart breaking with every word.

"I don’t doubt that, Tae. But love isn’t just about words. I need to feel like I belong in your life, not like I’m waiting on the sidelines, hoping for a moment that never comes."

His lips parted like he wanted to argue, to fight for us, but nothing came.

No promises, no reassurances. Just silence.

A silence that told me everything I needed to know.

Tears burned behind my eyes as I took a shaky breath and stepped back, putting space between us.

My fingers curled around the doorknob, the cool metal grounding me.

"You should go."

Taehyung didn’t move.

His jaw tensed, his hands twitching at his sides, but he didn’t fight me.

"Please," I whispered, voice barely holding together.

"Don't make this harder than it already is."

For a moment, I thought he’d refuse.

That he’d reach for me, pull me into his arms, tell me he would fix this, that he would stay.

But he didn’t.

Slowly, he reached for his coat, movements stiff, hesitant, as if every second that passed was another piece of his heart shattering.

He lingered for a moment, standing in the doorway, his dark eyes searching mine like he was trying to memorize every detail before he walked away.

"I love you," he murmured, voice breaking.

I pressed my lips together, trying to hold back the sob threatening to escape.

"I love you too."

And then, before I lost the last bit of strength I had left, I turned away.

I didn’t watch him leave.

I didn’t listen for the sound of the door closing behind him.

But when the silence settled around me, final and unforgiving, I knew.

He was gone.

And what we had was simply left in the past and forgotten.

"Y/n?"

I snapped back to reality, blinking as Taehyung slid into the chair across from me.

His scent, clean and familiar, hit me instantly, making my stomach twist.

I had spent years wondering what it would feel like to see him again. If my heart would still react the way it used to.

If I would still feel that same ache, that same pull toward him.

And now, as he slid into the chair across from me without waiting for an invitation, I had my answer.

My stomach twisted, and my fingers curled around my coffee cup in a desperate attempt to steady myself.

"Taehyung." His name tasted unfamiliar on my tongue, yet it felt like it belonged there.

He studied me for a long moment, his gaze slow and deliberate, as if he were trying to convince himself that I was real.

"You look... different, still beautiful though," he finally said, his voice softer than I remembered.

A small, tight smile formed on my lips. "So do you."

And he did.

There was something more refined about him now, his jawline sharper, his presence more composed, his energy quieter.

His hair was styled in a way I hadn't seen before, and his outfit, though simple, carried an effortless elegance.

But beneath it all, the Taehyung I knew was still there.

It was in the way his fingers tapped absently against the table, something he always did when he was deep in thought.

In the way his eyes, though slightly guarded, still held that quiet intensity that had once been my undoing.

"Four years," he mused, shaking his head slightly.

"I thought maybe I'd run into you sooner."

"I wasn’t exactly trying to be found," I admitted, stirring my coffee even though I had no intention of drinking it.

"So I figured." He exhaled through his nose, leaning back slightly in his chair.

"You just… vanished."

I looked away, focusing on the steam rising from my cup. "I had to."

Taehyung nodded slowly, as if he understood. Maybe he did. Or maybe he was just pretending to.

"Where have you been?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Here and there," I replied vaguely.

"I moved for a while. Focused on work. Traveled."

"You always said you wanted to travel more," he murmured, a small ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

"Yeah," I said softly.

"And you? How’s life treating you?"

His lips twitched, but there was something almost tired in his expression.

"Busy, as always."

That didn’t surprise me.

He had always been busy. His world had never stopped spinning, and I had long accepted that I would never be able to keep up.

"I saw your latest projects," I continued, keeping my tone light.

"You’ve been doing well. Congratulations."

He let out a small hum. "Thanks. It’s been… a lot."

"I bet."

Another pause stretched between us, but this time, it wasn’t as heavy.

It was just… there. Lingering. Holding all the things we weren’t saying.

"And now you're back," he finally said, breaking the silence.

I gave a small nod. "Just for a while."

He seemed to process that, his fingers stilling against the table.

"Are you staying long?"

"Not sure yet," I admitted, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I guess it depends."

"On what?"

I hesitated. "A lot of things."

Taehyung's gaze softened for a brief second, but just as quickly, he masked it with a neutral expression.

"Are you happy?" he asked, his voice careful.

My breath caught for just a moment.

I hadn’t expected that question.

I thought he’d ask about my work, about my travels, something simple, something safe.

But instead, he asked that.

I glanced down at my coffee cup, at the tiny ripples forming from my slightly unsteady hands.

"…Are you?" I countered, finally looking up.

His lips parted slightly, as if I had caught him off guard.

He hesitated, just for a moment, before exhaling deeply.

"I don’t know."

Neither did I.

Before I could say anything else, the café door swung open, and a gust of cold air rushed in, followed by a chorus of loud voices.

"YAH! Taehyung, you were supposed to get us coffee, not disappear!"

The familiar voice sent a jolt through me.

My breath hitched as I turned toward the commotion, my fingers tightening around my cup.

Jungkook, Jimin, and Namjoon strode into the café, brushing off the winter chill.

Their laughter and complaints filled the space, but the moment their eyes landed on me, everything stopped.

Jungkook froze mid-step, his mouth parting in shock.

His wide eyes scanned my face like he was seeing a ghost. "No freaking way..."

Jimin, who had been in the middle of playfully nudging Namjoon, nearly tripped over his own feet.

He grabbed onto Namjoon's arm, his jaw dropping. "Is that—"

"Y/n?" Namjoon's deep voice carried pure disbelief.

I couldn’t move.

For a split second, I considered bolting.

The weight of their stares, the flood of memories crashing over me, it was overwhelming.

But I stayed, frozen in place as the reality of the moment settled in.

Jungkook was the first to break from his trance.

In a blink, he was sliding into the seat next to me, eyes scanning my features like he needed to confirm I was real.

"Where the hell have you been?" His voice was low, raw.

I swallowed, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

"It’s... a long story."

Jimin crossed his arms, tilting his head, his eyes narrowed in a mix of confusion and hurt.

"Good thing we have time, then."

Back when Taehyung and me used to date I had this amazing bond with the other members.

It was almost as if they were my actual brothers.

I knew that my disappearance didn't only hurt Taehyung but also the guys.

Taehyung, who had been watching the interaction in silence, shot them a sharp look, but Namjoon placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"We’re not attacking her, Tae," Namjoon said quietly, though his voice carried an edge of emotion.

"We just... thought we lost her for good."

A pang of guilt hit me square in the chest.

My throat tightened as I lowered my gaze.

"I'm sorry."

Jungkook let out a scoff, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair.

"You're sorry?" His voice cracked slightly.

"Y/n, we thought something happened to you. We thought—" He cut himself off, clenching his jaw, frustration evident in his dark eyes.

Jimin's posture softened, and he leaned forward, his voice quieter now.

"Why did you leave?"

I could feel Taehyung's eyes burning into me, waiting, searching, but I couldn’t look at him.

Not yet.

My fingers trembled slightly as I exhaled. "Because I was scared."

The words felt heavy as they left my lips.

A thick silence settled over the table, stretching uncomfortably long.

Jungkook let out a slow breath, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair.

"You should’ve at least told us. We were your family, too."

My chest ached. I had always known that leaving them would hurt, but I had convinced myself it was necessary.

That disappearing was the only way to protect my heart from breaking beyond repair.

But seeing the hurt in their eyes made me realize just how much damage I had left in my wake.

I forced a small, sad smile. "I know. And I regret it every day."

Namjoon studied me carefully, his sharp eyes searching for something beneath the surface.

After what felt like an eternity, he gave a slow nod.

"You’re back now. That’s what matters."

I wanted to believe that.

I really did.

But as I finally lifted my gaze to meet Taehyung’s, I knew the past wasn’t done with me yet.

And neither was he.

My mind was still reeling from the overwhelming reunion, the weight of guilt and nostalgia pressing against my chest.

Jungkook hadn’t stopped looking at me, like he was afraid I’d disappear again if he blinked.

Jimin kept stealing glances, his expression a mix of happiness and unresolved emotions, while Namjoon sat in quiet contemplation, observing everything.

And Taehyung, he hadn’t said much, but his presence was suffocating in the best and worst ways.

"Come with us," Jungkook blurted out suddenly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I blinked. "What?"

"Come with us," he repeated, standing up and stretching as if the conversation was already decided.

"We're heading back to the dorm, and you’re coming too."

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around my coffee cup.

"I don’t know if that’s a good idea—"

"Too bad," Jimin cut in, grabbing my wrist playfully.

"You don’t get a say in this. We need to properly yell at you for ghosting us."

Namjoon smirked, shaking his head.

"Ignore him. We just… we missed you, Y/n. And the others should know you’re back."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Taehyung finally spoke, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

"Come with us."

I met his gaze, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

There was something unreadable in his expression, something careful, like he wasn’t sure if he could handle me being here, but he wasn’t ready to let me go either.

And just like that, I caved.

The second we stepped inside, the warmth of the dorm wrapped around me like a familiar embrace.

The scent of home-cooked food lingered in the air, and the faint sound of a television echoed from the living room.

Before I could even take in my surroundings, Hoseok’s voice rang through the space.

"Tae, did you even get the coffee or—"

His words cut off as he stepped into view, his eyes widening as they landed on me.

"Holy shit," Yoongi muttered from his spot on the couch, his entire body tensing.

Jin, who had been in the kitchen, peeked his head out, a wooden spoon still in his hand.

"Is this a fever dream? Or did Y/n just resurrect after four years?"

Jungkook let out a dramatic sigh.

"Yep, she’s alive and breathing. Can you believe it?"

I shifted awkwardly under their stares. "Hi."

My voice came out softer than I intended, uncertain.

There was a beat of silence before chaos erupted.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"

Jin practically shouted, walking over and inspecting me like I was an illusion.

"You really just disappeared on us!" Hoseok added, still in shock.

"I thought Jungkook was lying when he said you were here," Yoongi admitted, rubbing his temple.

I winced at the wave of questions thrown my way.

"Okay, okay, one at a time!" Jimin laughed, waving his hands to calm the room down.

Namjoon, ever the leader, stepped in.

"Guys, let’s not overwhelm her. She’s here now. That’s what matters."

Slowly, the tension eased.

One by one, the members softened, replacing their initial shock with quiet relief.

Jin pulled me into a tight hug, his usual playful demeanor laced with something more serious.

"Don’t ever do that again, okay?"

I nodded, my throat tightening. "I won’t."

As the night went on, the questions died down, replaced by laughter and inside jokes.

It was like I had never left.

But there was still an unspoken weight in the air, a conversation left unfinished.

And Taehyung felt it too.

Eventually, the members started heading to their rooms, leaving only me and Taehyung in the dimly lit living room.

The TV played quietly in the background, casting a soft glow across his face.

I sat on the couch, pulling my knees up as he settled beside me, his presence close but not overwhelming.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Then, finally, he broke the silence.

"Why did you really leave? I mean I knew I wasn't the best boyfriend and didn't give you all my time but still. I know you and I know that there is more to it."

I exhaled, my gaze dropping to my hands. "I told you. I was scared."

"Scared of what?" His voice was gentle, but there was something else laced within it, something raw.

I swallowed, gathering my thoughts.

"Scared of losing myself in your world. Scared of becoming someone who was always waiting for you, always watching from the sidelines. You had so much ahead of you, Tae. And I felt like I was just… holding you back."

He let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling slightly against his knee. "You never held me back, Y/n."

"It felt like I did." I finally turned to face him, my heart hammering.

"I loved you so much, and it hurt. It hurt to watch you get further and further away from me. And I knew, eventually, I’d become someone you’d have to choose between. And I didn’t want that for you."

Taehyung’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable.

"That wasn’t your choice to make."

I blinked at the quiet frustration in his voice.

"I know," I admitted softly.

"But it was the only way I knew how to protect myself."

He looked away for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

"Do you regret it?"

I hesitated. "Yes. And no. I think… I needed to leave to understand what I wanted. But I hate that I hurt you."

Taehyung exhaled sharply, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"You did hurt me, Y/n. A lot. I spent years wondering what I did wrong. Wondering why you couldn’t at least tell me."

His voice cracked slightly, and my chest ached at the vulnerability in his words.

"I’m sorry," I whispered. "If I could take it back—"

"You can’t," he interrupted, but there was no malice in his tone. Just quiet acceptance.

I nodded, my fingers gripping the fabric of my sleeves.

"I know. But… I’m here now. And if you’ll let me, I want to make it right."

Taehyung turned to face me fully then, his dark eyes searching mine.

"Do you still love me?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

I sucked in a breath, my pulse thundering.

"I never stopped."

His shoulders slumped slightly, like he had been bracing for a different answer.

For a long moment, he didn’t speak.

Then, finally, he nodded, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips.

"I’m not ready to just jump back in, Y/n." His voice was careful, measured.

"But… I don’t want to lose you again."

I nodded, understanding completely. "Me neither."

He reached for my hand then, hesitating for just a second before intertwining his fingers with mine.

"Let’s take it slow," he murmured.

"Okay," I whispered back.

It wasn’t a perfect ending.

But it was a new beginning.

The days that followed felt like stepping into the past, only this time, it wasn’t clouded with uncertainty.

Taehyung and I weren’t rushing into anything, but we were gravitating toward each other again, rediscovering what we had lost.

We took it step by step.

One night, Taehyung showed up outside my apartment, leaning casually against his car, hands tucked into his coat pockets.

"Come on," he said with that familiar glint in his eyes.

"Let’s go for a drive."

It was something we used to do all the time, no destination, no plans, just music and the city lights.

I didn’t hesitate.

With the windows rolled down and the cool night air brushing against our faces, we drove through the empty streets of Seoul.

The radio played softly in the background, and Taehyung hummed along, his deep voice making my heart ache in the best way.

"You still sing along to every song," I teased, smiling at him.

He smirked, flicking his gaze toward me.

"And you still stare at me when I do."

I rolled my eyes, looking away, but the warmth in my chest only grew.

Another afternoon, Taehyung showed up with a picnic basket. "We need fresh air."

We spent hours at the park, lying on a blanket under the shade of a tree.

I watched as he tossed crumbs to the birds, his eyes crinkling when a small flock gathered around him.

"They trust me," he said proudly.

"That’s because you’re bribing them with food," I laughed.

But I couldn't deny it, watching him interact with the simplest things, the way he found joy in moments like this, made my heart feel lighter.

At one point, he turned to me, resting his head against his arm.

"It feels like old times, doesn’t it?"

I nodded, my fingers playing with the edge of the blanket.

"Yeah… it does."

One evening, it started pouring just as we were leaving a café.

"Shit," I muttered, looking up at the sky.

"We’re gonna get soaked."

But instead of running for cover, Taehyung stepped into the rain, tilting his head back as water dripped down his face.

"Come on, scaredy-cat," he grinned, reaching for my hand.

I hesitated, but then, just like before, I let him pull me into the downpour.

We laughed as we splashed through puddles, our clothes drenched, hair sticking to our faces.

He spun me around like we were in some cheesy movie, his eyes never leaving mine.

"You’re ridiculous," I giggled, breathless.

"And you love it," he shot back.

I didn't deny it.

That night, we ended up back at the dorm.

The other members were out, leaving the place unusually quiet.

Taehyung handed me a towel, both of us still damp from the rain. "Here. Dry off before you get sick."

I took it, rubbing my hair, watching as he did the same.

He looked so soft in that moment, his usual sharp features relaxed, his warm eyes full of something I couldn’t quite name.

"Tae," I started, my voice quieter now.

He looked up, waiting.

I hesitated, but then let the words spill.

"I’m really happy we’re doing this again. I was scared that too much time had passed, that we wouldn’t fit the way we used to."

He walked over, sitting beside me on the couch.

"You’re not the only one who was scared, Y/n."

I turned to him, my heart hammering. "You were?"

He nodded. "I thought I lost you forever. And even now, I keep wondering if this is real. If you’ll leave again."

I reached for his hand, squeezing gently. "I won’t."

His gaze flickered down to our intertwined fingers, then back to me. His voice was softer when he spoke again.

"Then prove it."

I swallowed, nerves buzzing under my skin.

"How?" I whispered.

His eyes searched mine, and before I could think too much, his fingers brushed my cheek, tucking a damp strand of hair behind my ear.

"Stay."

And just like that, the space between us disappeared.

His lips met mine in a slow, lingering kiss, one that spoke of lost time, of years of longing, of a love that had never really left.

When we finally pulled away, my forehead rested against his, both of us catching our breath.

"We’re really doing this, huh?" I murmured, smiling.

"Yeah," he whispered back.

"But this time, we take it slow. We prove it to each other."

"Deal."

A moment of peace settled between us until the sound of a loud thump broke it.

We both turned toward the hallway, where muffled whispers and scrambling footsteps could be heard.

Jungkook’s voice came first. "I TOLD YOU THE FLOOR WOULD CREAK!"

Jimin hissed back. "Shut up, you were the one leaning too close!"

Namjoon sighed. "I swear, you’re all children—"

Taehyung groaned, rubbing his temples. "Are you seriously spying on us?"

The door swung open slightly, revealing Jin with a smug grin. "Not spying. Just… confirming suspicions."

Yoongi peered over his shoulder. "Took you two long enough."

Hoseok beamed. "So, are you guys official now, or do we need to suffer through more slow burns?"

Taehyung threw a pillow at them. "GET OUT!"

Laughter erupted as they scattered like kids caught doing something bad.

I shook my head, laughing as I leaned into Taehyung’s side.

He sighed dramatically. "This is our life now."

"Yeah," I grinned, squeezing his hand. "And I wouldn’t have it any other way."

The end

70 notes · View notes

serpentandlily · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I hope you are doing well ^^ I love (times infinity!) your writing and if you are accepting reqs, I have an idea for a short oneshot and I would like to share it with you and hopefully to bring the story alive! It's Rhys x Reader where reader is Rhys's mate and reader has a lot of duties needed to handle, especially being the mate of the High Lord. One day reader feels all type of exhaustion; mentally, physically, emotionally, psychologically, sleepness nights. Reader shut down the mate bond so that Rhys wouldn't feel anything and know about reader's emotions and wouldn't add more worry to Rhys. Reader always held their head high, smile on their face, and a strong persona as not to worry anyone. One day reader got too overwhelmed and decided to get a fresh air but as reader went out something happened (idk how to put it 😅 I'll leave this part to your creativity) and somehow during the process of everything of that something was happening Rhys found out about what their mate was truly feeling. Major major major angst, if you would like. Thank you so much in advance! 🫶

Ahhh tysm !! You’re my first request and I love your idea !! I hope I did it justice <3

Falling Apart for You - Rhysand x Reader

Summary: You’ve been a pillar of support for your mate and High Lord for as long as you can remember but when you receive some bad news, you can’t stop yourself from finally falling apart.

Warnings: angst, mention of loss, grief

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Everybody had a role in this group for their High Lord. Mor was his cousin, the one he could tease but always rely on, Cassian and Azriel were his brothers, the two people he could let off steam with in a way only Illyrians could–through fists and bruises, Amren, his trusted advisor and endless supply of knowledge, and then there was you…his High Lady and his rock. The one person in his life who he knew could handle everything he threw at you and more. His rock that kept him sane, supported him without crumbling, and held him up when he couldn’t do it himself.

And you loved being that person for him. He was your mate, your husband, your High Lord. You were honored to devote your life to the male you loved more than anything. The mating bond between you and Rhys had snapped right after he had just lost his mother and sister and had become High Lord of the Night Court. Suddenly, your life had gone from being a simple girl helping your parents with their farm in the countryside to a High Lady having to learn the ins and outs of running a court while also supporting your mate who was still suffering from the loss of his family.

You had done it all with a smile on your face. Because it did truly bring you happiness, Rhys brought you happiness. You loved him like the sun loved the moon, always one step behind him, ready to catch him if he ever fell. And you knew he loved you too. He practically worshiped the ground you walked on, spoiled you with a life filled with love and riches. And you were so grateful for everything he had done for you—and for your family. He had dug you all out of the trenches of poverty, given you a voice and power in a court who had previously never cared for its poor and unfortunate.

You never crumbled under the weight of the responsibilities of being a High Lord’s mate because you knew what it was like to constantly feel like you carried the world on your shoulders. Living in poverty meant always being strong because one mistake, one simple misfortune, could leave you without a home, without food, without anything left to your name.

So being the strong one, keeping your head up with a smile on your face despite the stress of everything, that had always been who you were. And that's exactly who you were for your mate.

So when Rhys went to that fateful meeting with Hybern’s General and disappeared for forty-nine years, you continued to be that person despite your whole world crumbling under your feet. You kept a brave face for your people, kept Velaris up and running without its High Lord, protected your court as best you could without your mate by your side.

You had begged and begged Rhys not to go to that meeting. Had begged him to let you go with him when he decided against your pleas to go anyways. And all it took was one night, one evil female, to completely ruin everything for you. Rhys had blocked off his end of the mating bond, something that was nearly as worse as death to you. But every once in a while, when things had gotten especially hard under the mountain for him, his control would slip and you would be hit with a wave of his emotions.

Disgust, pain, torture, agony, longing, guilt, grief, self-hatred, despair.

All the while, you had to keep a brave face not just for your people but for the Inner Circle. You never let them know the things you felt from Rhys through the mating bond. Didn’t want to add that burden to their shoulders. And despite how much they helped you in those forty-nine years, nothing they did would ever be able to take away the pure agony of knowing your mate was being abused and degraded and not being able to do a single thing about it.

You hated that part of you resented Rhys for that. For going to that stupid meeting despite you. For forcing you to run a court alone for forty-nine years. For locking you in Velaris with no contact from the outside world—no contact with your parents who lived on the outskirts of Illyria’s mountains. You were so angry with him at times.

But then he returned a broken male. Pale, thin and in pieces. So how could you ever let him know your true feelings? How could you ever even complain about how hard things had been for you here? He had gone through hell and back for you, for his family, for his court. So you sucked up all your feelings, bottled them away, and moved on. Went back to being his rock. Nursed him back to health. Shouldered every burden for him until he was well enough to resume his role.

And then the war came and everything got worse. Suddenly your work doubled and everything else had to be put on the backburner. You hadn’t even had the chance to visit your own family in the year after the barrier between Velaris and the rest of the world had finally come down. You focused all your attention and time on Rhys and your court. Just make it through the war, you would tell yourself. Just make it another day. When peace was reached, you’d finally be able to see your family—to hug your mother and father after fifty years.

It was finally all over and you were sucked up in the aftermath of rebuilding. With the newfound peace though, that hold you had over your emotions had begun to disintegrate. Without having to spend all your time focused on survival, the feelings you had buried deep inside of you had risen once again.

You were so tired. So unbelievably tired and overwhelmed. You could hardly sleep without being plagued with nightmares, rarely had an appetite. Mentally and physically, you could feel your body shutting down. It was hard to get out of bed most days, not that you would ever let Rhys know. He still had his own burdens and trauma to work through. The last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. So you kept your side of the mating bond well guarded, making sure he never even got so much of an inkling to what you were truly feeling.

You held a steaming mug of coffee in your hand as you slipped into Rhys’s office. A smile bloomed on your face at the sight of your mate at his desk, hunched over a bunch of reports and correspondence from other courts. All things you had already sorted through and weeded out the most important for him to look over. His beautiful face didn’t even lift at the sound of you walking in.

You set his mug down on his desk and moved over to his side to look over his shoulder at the paperwork. He grunted his thanks. You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, pressing a small kiss to his throat.

“How’s it coming, my love?”

“Keir is still a pain in my ass. The Illyrians are still revolting against the idea of letting their females train,” Rhys grumbled. “It's taking longer to rebuild the areas in Velaris that got destroyed during the attack than we thought. And fucking Beron still isn’t responding to anyone’s letters about scheduling another High Lords’ meeting to discuss a new peace treaty.”

All things you already knew of course. What he didn’t know was the hundreds of other issues you had separated from the more important ones that you had dealt with this morning. Your hand hurt from all the letters you had written on his behalf. Your mind was numb after reading depressing letters from widows looking for aid because their husbands had died in the war.

You needed a break. He needed a break. You could feel yourself crumbling.

“How about you take a break for now,” you suggested. “And walk with me through the gardens before your meeting with Amren?”

Rhys let out a displeased noise and shook your arms off his shoulders. Hurt flashed through you at his dismissal but you tried not to let it get to you.

“Can’t you see I’m busy,” Rhys growled. “I don’t have time for a break.”

He was stressed, you knew that. But his words still cut through you like a sharpened blade. You were busy too. You had been for a long time. If you could see he needed a break, why couldn’t he see how much you needed one too?

“Of course,” you replied, keeping your pain and frustration out of your voice. “I just thought…Nevermind.”

You quickly scurried out of his office before he could see how hurt you were, not wanting to stress him out even further. You knew you shouldn’t take it to heart. You knew he’d likely apologize later. But it didn’t change the fact that it hurt. It hurt more than anything that he couldn’t see just how much you needed him right now. You hadn’t asked anything of him since he had returned from under the mountain, had never complained, never faltered in your support.

For once you wished it could be you leaning against someone else. You wished you had someone to hold you up right now. To be strong for you. But as usual, you were alone. So, so alone. Maybe it was your fault for not telling him but why should you have to? You had never had to ask someone if they needed you. Merely saw that they were struggling and went out of your way to help them without question. So why couldn’t your own mate do that for you?

You let out a long sigh and decided to take that walk in the gardens, even if you would do so alone. Maybe some fresh air would help.

The sound of birds and leaves rustling in the wind served as your company as you walked along the cobblestone path in the gardens. The scent of the spring-blooming flowers whirled around in the air. You should be enjoying it all but you couldn’t. Not when so much was on your mind.

Before you could take another step, a letter appeared right in front of you. It drifted to the ground and landed right at your feet. You picked it up, instantly recognizing the penmanship. Your name was written on the front of the envelope in your father’s handwriting. You frowned. You had forgotten about your family for the time being, lost in your work for the court. Forgot you hadn’t even seen them in fifty years.

You tore the letter open and read through the contents. Read it a second time. And then a third. No. No no no no. You squeezed your eyes shut and then read it again, hoping the words on the parchment would change. No. This couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be real. No.

You couldn’t breath, couldn’t see, couldn’t think.

You didn’t even realize you had fallen onto your knees. It felt like the entire world was collapsing on you. Every little thing you had been holding up suddenly too heavy. You wanted to scream and scream and scream. Wanted to vomit. Wanted to burn this whole city to the ground. The hold you had on yourself was ripped apart. Your entire being felt like it was ripped apart along it.

This was it. This would be the final thing that snapped you in half. Years and years of being strong, of keeping this court together in Rhys’s absence, of fighting through a war. Doing all of it with your head held high, with a smile on your face as you held your mate night after night. Let him fall apart in your arms and put him back together. You had survived through all of that but now this?

Had all of that been worth this? You had neglected your own life, your own family. Guilt crashed into you. Guilt, anger, agony. You had sacrificed so much to be a strong pillar in other peoples life and this is how the universe repaid you. You read the letter once more, the parchment crumbing as your grip tightened.

To my dearest daughter,

I have written to you twice a week for the past fifty years to no reply. I am beginning to worry my letters are not finding you. But I hope and pray this one does. Your mother has succumbed to her illness, angel. I wish I could’ve told you in person. I wish you could’ve been here for her last moments. I am putting off her funeral for as long as I can in hopes that you are able to come home and help me put her to rest, angel. I know how busy you are and how much you do for our court, so I hope you do not feel guilty for not being here. Your mother was so, so very proud of you, angel. She loved you so much and she wouldn’t want you to feel that guilt.

I hope this letter finds you. I will send a messenger as well but I fear they might not make it to you in time. Please come as soon as you can.

With all my love,

Your Father

You could feel your magic swirling inside of you like a beast begging to be let out of its cage. You knew you’d take the whole damn city out with you if you released it here. So with half a mind, you winnowed away to the one place you knew would be safe.

You had no idea that your control over the mating bond had slipped in your grief. Had no idea you had just flooded your mate with years and years worth of pain. Had no idea that he collapsed over his desk, overwhelmed at the emotions bombarding him. He was shocked, stunned at the emotions that were coming through to him. His mate was suffering, deteriorating, and he had been so blind to it all. His hands clenched into fists and he rose from his desk. He needed to find you, now.

Your magic spiraled out of you like a monsoon. The earth surrounding you was scorched black, the trees all broken and bent out of place. You had released wave after wave of magic until you were burnt out completely. And now you lie in the wake of your destruction, crying and crying. Hugging yourself on the floor. Your mother was dead. DEAD. And your father had been trying to reach you for fifty years to tell you she was ill.

But Rhys had closed off Velaris when Amarantha had come. Had made every fae not in the city forget of its existence. And so his letters had never reached you. Not until this one that came now that the barriers were gone. Now that the whole of Prythian knew about the city. But it was too late. You would never get the chance to see her, to hug her, again. She was gone.

A wave of darkness took over the field and your mate appeared from it, his face cold and stony, as if he were expecting to come face to face with danger. You watched as his violet eyes took in the sight before him. Of the valley you had destroyed. And of you.

His face fell and he rushed towards you but you scurried away on your backside. You didn’t want to see him right now. Didn’t want him near you. He was partly at fault for all of this. He was the reason your father’s letters had never made it to you.

“Y/n…” he whispered your name, his voice filled with despair. “What’s going on? What happened? Are you okay?”

A sob broke free from your lips and his face crumbled further. He knelt down on the floor in front of you, reaching a hand out towards you but you turned your head away from it. “Please, darling. Please tell me what happened. What’s wrong?”

“W-what’s wrong?” you choked out. “Now you want to know what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, darling?” he questioned. “Of course I do. You know I do.”

“Seriously, Rhys?! Ever since you came back to us, you’ve barely even looked at me! You hardly ever ask how I’m doing. Hardly ever make time for me, your mate! So why would I ever think that you cared now?!”

“I’ve been busy, darling, you know that,” he said, softly. “But I’m—”

You cut him off, crawling towards him and shoving a finger to his chest. “And you don’t think I have?! You think I haven't been busy too?! I have put everything I have into keeping this court together! I have spent hours and hours doing work so you could focus on the important things! I spent the past fifty years holding Velaris together while you were gone! I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a break, or even a day to myself! And you don’t even seem to recognize how much I do for you, how much I have done since you’ve been gone!”

“Darling, I had no idea—”

“Of course you didn’t! You never ask me how I’ve been. You never asked me how things were here when you were gone. Did you know when you were under the mountain, you’d sometimes send your feelings to me? Do you have any idea how hard it was to know you were suffering and not be able to do a single thing to help you? I begged you not to go to that party! Begged you! And then instead of letting us try to help you, you locked us all up with no way to get out!”

“I only had seconds to make a decision,” Rhys stressed. “Seconds. I’m sorry, darling, but I did what I had to in order to keep you safe, to keep Velaris safe. I don’t regret it.”

“I know, Rhys. I know how much you suffered for us. But what if I had done that to you? What if I had made that decision and forced you to spend fifty years stuck in Velaris while I was being tortured every single night?”

“I…I don’t know what I would’ve done, darling. I probably would’ve torn the whole world apart to get to you.”

“I considered it. I really did. But I knew you’d made that sacrifice for a reason. So I put on a brave face and I kept Velaris running the entire time you were gone. Kept our family from falling apart. And then you came back to us and I was so relieved, Rhys. But you were different. You had gone through hell. And then the war happened. Once it was over I thought maybe now we’d get to take a break, to just spend time with each other, to finally heal. But you just keep throwing yourself into work and I have to just smile through it all because I’m your High Lady and that's what's expected of me.”

Rhys seemed at a loss for words, taken aback. For some reason, that only made you angrier. You ripped at your stupid gown, at the jeweled necklace around your throat that cost more than your parent’s farm, and tossed it to the ground.

“I never asked for this! I never asked to be a High Lady! To have to run a court! I was just a farm girl, Rhys. And then you came along and suddenly I had to be this perfect, educated, well-mannered Lady. Do you realize how much effort that took? Do you realize how out of place I feel most of the time?”

“Darling, I’ve never expected you to be anything other than yourself,” Rhys said gently. “I love who you are. I fell in love with you when you were just that pretty little farm girl and I have loved you ever since.”

“Maybe you don’t expect me to be anyone else,” you cried. “But our people, our court—everyone wants something from me now! They expect me to be like you, expect me to know the answers to all their problems! And I’m supposed to do it all with a smile on my face, with grace and appreciation! And I’m just so tired, Rhys. So, so tired.”

“I had no idea you felt this way, darling.” Rhys reached for you again but you backed away from his touch once more. He frowned, devastated. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me you needed a break?”

“How could I?” you cried out. “After everything you went through, how could I be the one to demand a break?! I sucked it up, for you, for our court. And Gods, I can’t do it anymore, Rhys. I can’t. I’ve fucked up and now I can’t even say goodbye to her!”

Rhys’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Darling, what are you talking about? You haven’t fucked up anything. It’s me who has let you down. What do you mean you can’t say goodbye to her? Say goodbye to who?”

You ripped your father’s letter out of your pocket and thrust it against his chest. He took it out of your hand gently as you fell apart all over again. You sobbed as he read it, his eyes widening as he looked up at you. “Oh darling…oh, my love, I am so, so sorry.”

He grabbed you and pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. You didn’t have the energy to fight him off—too lost in your grief. “You closed us off from the rest of the world. You made my father forget about Velaris. I never got any of his letters, Rhys! And now it's too late! She’s gone and it's too late.”

You choked on your own sobs and he tightened his arms around you, stroking your hair as he held you close. “I’m so sorry, darling. I am so, so sorry. I never meant for this. I didn’t even think…I’m so sorry.”

More sobs ripped from your throat and Rhys rocked you as you cried and cried and cried. It hurt so much. All of it. It was just too much. And even now you felt guilty. Guilty that you had dragged him out here, had unloaded on him.

“Don’t do that, darling,” he whispered against your hair. “Don’t feel guilty. Let me help you for once. I know how much you’ve done for my court, for me. I’ve been shit at showing you lately, but I love you so, so much, darling. And I appreciate every single thing you do for me, for our family, for our people. I’m so sorry that I haven’t been showing you just how much I appreciate you. I love you more than the stars themselves. I do not know where I’d be right now without you and I am just so sorry.”

You couldn’t reply. Couldn’t do anything but cry as you thought of your mother and father suffering all those years without you. You had been taking care of everyone else, everyone except your own family. And now it was too late.

Rhys held you close as you cried. Stroking your hair, pressing kisses to the top of your head, whispering how much he loved you, how sorry he was. And for once, you let yourself falter. Let yourself be held and coddled by your mate, the one person who loved you the most. You both had suffered so much, for far too long.

After some time had gone by, he pulled you back to look at you. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “Let me take care of you, darling. Let me take you to your father. I will put together a proper send off for your mother, okay? I will get everything settled while you spend some time with him. And then after you put her to rest, we can go to the cabin and spend the rest of the week there. Just us. I won’t let anyone bother us. Okay? Will you let me do that for you?”

You sniffled, staring up into Rhys’s eyes. He stared down at you with love and admiration. Stared at you like you were the answer to all his questions. The most precious thing to him in the world. And you could feel him through your mating bond, sending reassurance and comfort to you. The floodgates completely open.

His touch was so loving, his gaze telling you everything you needed to know. So, you nodded. And then melted back into his arms and finally let him be the rock you crashed against.

#acotar #rhysand #rhysand x you #rhysand x reader #acotar fanfiction #fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar x you #angst #hurt/comfort #oneshot

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bookuce · 5 months ago

Text

Fools Rush In

SUMMARY: Nessa wasn’t looking for love, neither was Joe, but when you know, you know.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OCs. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, Joe is Roman. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Black OC

TROPE: Love At First Sight

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 2.3K

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER FIVE

Nessa felt like shit, figuratively and literally. She blocked his number once she got home from Joe's hotel. Vanessa didn't want to see any texts or get any phone calls from him. She felt guilty enough for ghosting the man. Seeing or hearing anything from him would only make things worse.

She sat on the shower floor, letting the water pour over her head. She tightly wrapped her arms around her legs, her eyes shut while she focused on breathing. The warm steam from the water comforted and relaxed her while she attempted to take her mind off what she had done. Unfortunately for her, she was failing miserably. Though her night was drunken, she could remember every bit of that evening.

She could feel his hands on her body--all over her body, memorizing every dip and curve she had. Despite being pounded by the water from the shower, her skin still tingled in places he touched. Images of his face contorted in bliss, flushed pink cheeks, and sex-clouded eyes filled her mind. Oh, those eyes. Those eyes, hands, and perfectly pink and swollen lips kept reeling her in each time she thought she finished. How many times did he make her come last night? She lost count after the third time.

His voice echoed in her mind. Just like that, he praises. How do you want me, he asks. You feel so good, he tells her. The huskiness of his voice would send shivers down her spine. He somehow managed to make his already deep voice sound even more resounding. The way he spoke sometimes sounded animalistic. There was a growl with certain words, especially when he would say her name.

Vanessa brings her right hand up to her ear. She swore she could feel his ragged breath on her skin just then. The tremble in his voice and the moans he let out were things she never heard before with a man--at least not with any man she's ever been with. Joe was vocal, but this wasn't a bad thing. She enjoyed that he talked her through the things they did. He made her feel in control at times, powerful even. She learned something new about herself, a new kink unveiled.

Joe Anoa'i left quite the impression on this woman. Well, he did promise to make the evening unforgettable for her. Now look at her, dickmatized on the bathroom floor. Maybe she was overreacting about sleeping with the man. She needed this. She needed to be unwound and loosened up. She hadn't had sex in a year! She would never mention that out loud, though. It was bad enough that Isabel looked at her as if she grew three heads every time she remembered that her best friend was practicing celibacy.

Everyone needs to have sex! She'd exclaim. There are health benefits to it! She'd add. She would ramble on about it being a natural stress and pain reliever. Did you know sex can cure a migraine? Te lo digo, Nessa, es bueno para la mente, el cuerpo y el espíritu--Yes, yes, she knows.

Despite her newfound guilt, she felt refreshed when she woke up this morning. Her body wasn't sore. It didn't hurt when she walked. She felt pretty light on her feet. It could have something to do with the fact that Joe stretched her--Alright, that's enough. Vanessa reaches to turn off the shower. The warm water ceased, and cold air rushed to sheathe her body in goosebumps.

She pushes herself off the floor, a small sigh leaving her body as her joints pop with the movement. She steps out of the shower, snatching the towel that hung just above her head on the shower curtain rod. She wraps it around her body, exiting the bathroom. Instead of drying herself off, she drops onto the bed. Her eyes would meet the ceiling as she sucked in a tired breath. Vanessa brings her hand to her face, allowing her palm to drag down it. Her arm would then fly out to rest against the bed, hitting her cell phone. She turns her head towards the direction of the phone, flipping her hand over to grab it.

The light turns on on the screen, displaying the time to her. It was now ten o'clock exactly. She watched her phone screen as if she was expecting a notification to appear. One would never come, though. Unblock Joe's number, commands a voice in her head. Unblock his number and text him. This voice wasn't thinking about her at all; at that moment, it was thinking about what Joe could do for her--what Joe could do to her. Look at her, acting like a touch-starved woman--Well, she was, but she refused to give in to those temptations again. Nessa did it once--er, twice...three times last night, but never again. She had a moment of weakness. Yeah, that's what she was going to go with.

Texting that man after sneaking out while he slept and blocking his number would be foolish. He'd probably call her every name under the sun if he had the chance. Vanessa couldn't say she doesn't deserve it. She was a jerk and entirely too old to be doing this. She drops the phone back onto the bed, her eyes falling shut as she does so. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." She mutters to herself. Vanessa rolls onto her stomach, burying her face deep in the comforter she laid upon. She draws in a deep breath before letting out a muffled scream against her bedding.

Why was she even this torn up over ditching a guy? People did it all the time. They hook up, and they go their separate ways! It's not like she was ever going to see the guy again. Joe lived in Pensacola, nearly a ten-hour drive from Miami. The chances of them ever running into each other again were slim. There was no need to feel embarrassed or upset, but for some reason, she was. These can't be her feelings; maybe they were his. Soul ties are a thing, or at least that's what she read somewhere once before.

She lifts her head from the mattress, her eyes searching for her phone again. Once she locates it, she snatches it from its spot on the bed and opens her browser. How to get rid of soul-ties, she types into the search bar. Several links would appear on the screen before her, her eyes quickly skimming over article previews. "Addiction?" She whispers to herself, her brows furrowed. "The fuck..?" She turns off the screen of her phone once more. Perhaps she's being dramatic.

These feelings she felt are temporary and eventually will be a thing of the past. Hopefully, in about a week or two--or four, things will be alright again. Joe Anoa'i is a complete and total stranger to her, someone she met less than twenty-four hours ago. There was still plenty she didn't know about him despite getting to know the man last night. She learned normal, surface-level things about him; fun facts, if you will. It wasn't enough to pine away over. He was still a stranger to her.

Nessa pushes herself off the bed, now walking to her closet for undergarments and clothes. She couldn't sit around the house, no, not in this state. Vanessa needed to get active and move around. Sitting at home would do nothing but make her mind drift off to the events of last night, and the last thing she needed was to think herself into a horny slump. Maybe a jog will fix this. Yeah, she'll go for a jog.

Joe turns onto his side, his arm stretching out to drape over something that wasn't there. His dark brows knit together in confusion as he allowed his hand to glide over the empty spot next to him. The sheets were cool to the touch, meaning his bed was empty. He forces his eyes open, his semi-unconscious suspicions confirmed almost immediately. Nessa was not next to him. He lifts his head from his pillow, glancing around the room in a half-sleep daze. "Nessa?" He calls out groggily.

He'd get no response back. Joe becomes still, his breathing quieting as he listens for movement. The suite was silent. He moves onto his back, his eyes finding the high ceilings cast in a dim white glow from the light outside. Alone was not how he imagined his morning would begin, but that seemed to be his reality.

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

Joe sighs at the sound of his phone ringing from the nightstand. The timing for a phone call couldn't be more perfect. He lifts his head, reaching out to snatch the phone from its spot. Without checking the Caller ID, he swipes to answer the call. "Hello?" He says.

"I thought your ass was never going to answer," Josh says from the other side of the phone. "Ay, you good?" Joe scoffs slightly at the question. He was something. He hadn't determined how he was feeling just yet.

"Yeah, I'm good." He lies.

"You sure?" Jon chimes in, now leaning into Josh's phone. "Because the damn plane was supposed to leave thirty minutes ago, and your ass ain't here."

Joe's brows furrow slightly at Jon's words. "What're you talking about?" He asks. Slowly, he pushes himself up in bed, allowing his hand to prop him up. His hair would fall around his face, dry curls caressing his cheeks.

"You late, fool!" Jon exclaimed.

"Ay, Paul over here tweaking, Uce. You in trouble." Josh sings.

"Yeah, I ain't ever seen him this red before. Boy, that man is hot." Jon sings. Joe throws back the covers from his body, standing from the bed. His joints would pop as he stretched, a sigh leaving his lips as he did so.

"Is that, Joe?" Paul says in the background. "Let me talk to him." Joe rolls his eyes, his head moving in a circular motion as he does so. He didn't have time for this.

"Nah, it's our dad, Wiseman." Josh lies. "Bruh, bring your ass on." He says lowly to Joe through clenched teeth. The call will end, sending Joe back into silence again. He tosses his phone on the bed, his eyes taking in the room around him.

"Ness?" He calls out again. No answer. The bathroom door was open; the small room shrouded in darkness. He'd grab a handful of sheets, pulling it from the bed to wrap around his waist.

Thin, white cotton sheets skimmed delicately against the marble floor as Joe approached the staircase. He stops at the top and peers over, hoping to see the beautiful woman from last night down below, but she is nowhere to be seen. He spots his clothes draped along the back of the couch, but hers, which once laid alongside his, is now gone. Joe's head turns slightly, his eyes finding the morning sky outside his windows. Vanessa had snuck out before he woke up. Has he ever had this happen before? No, no, Joe couldn't recall. Maybe while he was in college, but after? No, he couldn't say he has.

Like he said earlier in the night, he wasn't interested in hooking up with her, and what happened between them was not planned. He just wanted to spend his last night in Miami with her. One thing led to another, and they ended up in bed together. Getting her there was not his intention at all. Hopefully, she doesn't assume that was what he had planned with inviting her here. His mouth would twitch to the left as he sniffled. Now that he thinks about it, maybe that's why she snuck off.

Again, that wasn't his intention, and he thought he did a good job assuring her he wasn't one of those guys. Did he slip up at some point last night and say or do something that might've thrown her off? He recalls the night just as he remembered it best. They talked, swam a little, and lastly, came back here. Nothing happened between the roof and the bedroom, he thinks. The wine they had wasn't too strong--at least not strong enough to hinder his ability to remain courteous.

Joe's gaze lowered to the floor, his shoulders rising with the breath he was taking in. He was feeling plenty of things right now: embarrassment, disappointment, confusion, and maybe a little anger. The anger is what confused him, though. Vanessa was essentially a stranger--why is he upset that she left?

Try to call her, a voice says to him. No, shoot her a text instead, it backpedals. He shakes his head at the thoughts. No, both options were heavily confrontational. He didn't want to come off weird to her, but then again, it was probably too late. Joe lifts his hand to his forehead, pushing his hair back against his forehead. He shuts his eyes only briefly. "She's just a girl." He mutters, lifting his head. For some reason, those words sounded untrue--coming from his mouth. Was it a false statement?

It doesn't matter--he'll get over it eventually.

Joe slowly turns, now sauntering towards the bathroom. He needed a shower. Vanessa's actions had left him questioning himself again. Was it the sex? His brows would knit together at the thought. It couldn't have been. One thing he knew for sure was that he was damned good at that. His mind would drift off to last night again.

Joe thought they had spectacular bedroom chemistry. He and Nessa left not a single part of that bed untouched. How they managed to stop themselves from going longer than they already did was beyond him.

His hand skims the wall, flicking on the lights within the bathroom. He'd come face to face with his reflection in the mirror, finally seeing his disheveled appearance. His hair stood wildly on his head, his curls defined in some spots and tangled in others. He looked well-rested despite getting hardly any sleep at all. The flight to Texas would be irritating with how the twins said Paul was acting. With how Joe felt, Paul might get some of that attitude back.

He should've left yesterday when he said he would.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I heard a lot of y'all was judging Nessa for sneaking out the crib before Joe woke up lol

What's that all about? Y'all wouldn't do the same thing after a one night stand? 😂😭

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland @queeny23 @pytbgeezy @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

#wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns x oc

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southtopaz · 4 months ago

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PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, mention of violence, swearing, mention of death, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts.

Word count: 3k

A/n: the next 3 chapters won’t follow Scream 6 plot as I wanted to add more storyline to the characters outside of the movies. If you want to read just Scream 6 plot, skip to Part 12. I’m also not going to follow the original timeline as Scream 6 will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Iris leaned against the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in hand, gazing out the window at the bustling streets of New York. The city hummed with life, a vibrant symphony of honking cars, distant sirens, and the chatter of people rushing by. It had been a month since she, Tara, and Sam had moved into their modest apartment in Brooklyn, and slowly everything was falling right into place.

"Can you believe we actually live here?" Tara exclaimed, bouncing into the kitchen with a bright smile that lit up the room. Iris, lost in her thoughts, jumped slightly at her voice. She turned to look at her friend and found herself taking in Tara's relaxed appearance. Her hair was still damp from her morning shower, and she wore an oversized sweatshirt that hung loosely on her frame. Feeling a strange flutter in her chest, Iris quickly averted her gaze, a wave of confusion washing over her. What was happening to her? As a distraction, she reached for the coffee pot and passed Tara a steaming cup. "It feels like a dream," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

"More like a chaotic dream," Sam replied, emerging from her room with a stack of books. "I can't find anything in this mess. I'm still trying to locate my favorite sweater."

Iris chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Which one? The black one? Or the other one that's also black? Or wait—what about..."

"Point taken! It's not my fault black goes with everything!" Sam exclaimed, feigning annoyance at Iris's playful critique.

"Oh, I see you're breaking out the spring colors," .

Sam threw a small book at her, but Iris was quick to dodge it, laughter bubbling up as she ducked.

"Maybe it's a sign that you need to embrace the New York fashion scene," Tara chimed in, grinning.

"I rather die but thanks"

As they settled into their new routine, the trio found joy in the small things: discovering local coffee shops, exploring vibrant street markets, and hosting movie nights along with Chad and Mindy in their living room, which was still adorned with unpacked boxes. Soon they were going to start their classes so they were trying to enjoy the most they could before they inmersed themselves in books. Iris was also searching for a job because she didn't want Sam to be the only one contributing financially, and she wanted to stop her mom from having to spend money on her.

Some weeks later, even with Iris getting a job on a coffee shop, they soon realized that money was still running short. With rent prices in New York being what they were, they knew they needed a fourth person to share the burden. They set up an anonymus ad, detailing their apartment and what they were looking for. They were all wary but they knew they didn't have a choice.

After a few interviews that felt more like awkward first dates than roommate searches, the trio finally met Quinn, a girl with fiery ginger hair that seemed to glow under the dim light of their cluttered living room, and strikingly blue eyes that sparkled with confidence. She was majoring in biology, and perhaps the most intriguing detail was that her dad was a cop. As she strolled into their apartment, she instantly filled the space with a vibrant energy.

The living room was still a whirlwind of unpacked boxes and mismatched furniture, a mix of secondhand finds and items from their old homes. Colorful pillows were scattered across an old couch, while a coffee table was littered with snacks from their latest movie night. A small bookshelf leaned against the wall, stuffed with books that had yet to find their proper places. The air carried the faint aroma of popcorn mixed with the floral scent of a candle they had lit in a moment of desperation to mask the smell of takeout.

"So, how long have you guys been looking for a roommate?" Quinn asked, casually leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed with an air of confidence.

"For a few weeks, but as you can see, we haven't had much luck," Sam replied, gesturing toward the chaos. Her tone was laced with a hint of frustration, but there was also a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

"Is it because people in New York are weird, or are you guys just too strict?" Quinn quipped, raising an eyebrow playfully, a smirk dancing on her lips.

"Honestly? A little bit of both," Tara admitted, sharing a knowing glance with Iris as they both recalled some of the more bizarre people they met.

Quinn let out a soft laugh. "I get it! You should have seen my last roommate, she was a little bit weird. She had a pet rat, and that little fucker would sneak into my room all the time!" She shuddered dramatically, her eyes wide with mock horror, and Iris couldn't help but snort at her antics.

After a bit of small talk, Quinn leaned in closer, her curiosity piqued. "So, where are you guys from?"

The three friends exchanged glances, an unspoken agreement passing between them. "We're from Woodsboro," Sam said, determined to be honest, at least about this part.

"Oh, okay. I think I've heard that name before," Quinn replied, making a nonchalant face as she glanced around the apartment. "I come from Philadelphia, but I think I already mentioned that" she added with a light laugh, her eyes sparkling.

"Why did you move here? Just for college?" Sam asked, genuinely curious about the girl who seemed to fit right in.

"Well, actually, I moved because my dad got a job here at the police station, and I figured I'd apply to a university while I was at it," Quinn explained, her tone brightening with pride.

"Your dad is a cop?" Iris inquired, raising an eyebrow, intrigued. After Quinn nodded, she exchanged a quick glance with Tara. Having a roommate whose father was a cop felt like a safety net in their world, right?

Sam, sensing the conversation flowing nicely, offered to show Quinn what would be her room and slipped away, leaving Iris and Tara alone in the living room. They both knew that Sam had her own agenda, to continue interrogating the new girl.

"So, what do you think of Quinn?" Iris wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

"She seems nice. It could be good," Tara replied, her tone thoughtful as she leaned back against the couch, letting the cushions cradle her.

"Maybe she likes horror movies too, she could even join our movie nights!" Iris exclaimed, though she knew no one was going to interrupt the nights in where Tara tried to convince her that horror movies are the best.

"Nope, that's our thing, just you and me," Tara said, playfully rolling her eyes as Iris draped an arm around her shoulder.

At that moment, Sam and Quinn returned, and Sam subtly nodded at Iris and Tara, signaling that they'd found their new roommate. . "Well, Quinn, pleasure to meet you, and welcome to your new home, I guess!" Sam said, her smile a bit awkward but genuine. "My sister and Iris will fill you in on everything else you need to know."

Iris gave a thumbs-up to Quinn, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous energy. She had to get used to someone else living here. "Yeah, welcome! It's a bit chaotic, but it's home," she added, trying to reassure her.

"Okay, cool!" Quinn replied, then added with a teasing grin, "By the way, you guys look really cute together. How long have you been dating?"

Both Iris and Tara froze, their eyes wide in shock. They exchanged a quick glance and suddenly they realized that Iris still had her arm around Tara's shoulder, and Tara had inadvertently intertwined their fingers. This was not looking good for them.

They quickly disentangled themselves, deep blushes spreading across their faces. "Oh, no, we're not—" Iris stammered, her heart racing.

"What? No, no—" they spoke in unison, completely flustered and embarrassed.

"We're just friends," Iris clarified, trying to regain her composure, her voice a little shaky. "Best friends!"

"Omg, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to assume!" Quinn exclaimed, her face a mix of embarrassment and amusement, her cheeks flushing as she realized the misunderstanding.

Iris and Tara waved it off, trying to hide their awkwardness, while Sam stood to the side, silently laughing at the whole situation, her shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles.

After some time, Quinn excused herself, and the three friends were left alone once again, the tension still hanging in the air. "Well, that was fun. I'm just gonna go..." Iris said, signaling backward toward her room, desperate to escape the lingering awkwardness. "To my room."

Once Iris left, Sam turned to her sister with a teasing grin, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Tara, however, pointed a finger at her, ready to defend herself against any teasing that was sure to come.

"Not a word, Sam," she warned, her voice stern.

"I didn't say anything," Sam replied innocently, her grin widening as she leaned against the wall.

"You're thinking it," Tara shot back, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Everyone is thinking it" Sam quipped, unable to hold back her laughter any longer.

"Shut the fuck up".

Two weeks later, classes started. Iris adjusted her backpack as she hurried across the bustling campus of Blackmore University, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. It was her first day, and the sprawling brick buildings felt both intimidating and inviting. The crisp autumn air filled her lungs, energizing her as she navigated through a bunch of students chatting animatedly.

She finally reached her classroom, a bright, airy space filled with wooden desks and large windows that let in the golden sunlight. As she stepped inside, Iris found a seat near the front and unpacked her notebooks, eager to absorb everything she could. Just as the professor began the lecture on cognitive behavioral therapy, a girl with brown hair and a bright smile plopped down in the seat next to her. "Hey! Is this seat taken?" she asked.

"Not at all, you can sit".

"Thanks, I'm Anika". she introduced herself with an enthusiastic smile.

"Iris," she replied, returning the smile. "Nice to meet you!"

The lecture unfolded, filled with complex theories and intriguing concepts, but Iris couldn't help but sneak glances at Anika. The way she scribbled notes furiously, then made funny faces at the professor's overly serious demeanor, made Iris chuckle more than once.

As the class came to an end, Iris gathered her things, and Anika turned to her, an excited glint in her eyes. "So, what did you think of the class? Aside from the professors boring voice"

Iris laughed. "It was interesting but I'm not gonna lie, he did make me wanna go to sleep at some point"

"God, I wish we could steal their coffee" Anika quipped, her smile wide. They both stood, now surrounded by a stream of students making their way out of the classroom. "What other classes do you have today?" Anika asked as they walked down the hallway together.

"I have social psychology next. How about you?" Iris replied, feeling a sense of ease as they chatted.

"Same! I guess we're officially psychology buddies," Anika said, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

As they settled into their seats for the next class, Iris couldn't shake the feeling that she had just made her first friend. Throughout the lecture, they exchanged snarky comments and jokes, growing more comfortable with each passing moment.

After class, as they wandered outside, the campus was buzzing with energy, students lounging on the grass or rushing to their next classes. Anika turned to Iris, her expression turning more serious. "So, what made you choose psychology? Just curious."

Iris took a deep breath, thinking about how her own experiences shaped her decision. "I guess I've always been fascinated by why people do what they do, why they are willing to do things that sometimes are not morally correct" Iris had always been interested in psychology but after what happened eight months ago, it was like she had this need to understand people's actions and maybe to understand her own. She pulled the trigger that killed someone and she still doesn't feel bad about it to this day. She couldn't say all of that to Anika yet so she decided for a simpler explanation. "It feels like understanding people can help us navigate through the chaos of life. Plus, I just want to help others find their way, you know?"

Anika nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I get that. I want to figure out how to help people but also how to help myself. I mean, if we can understand our own minds, maybe we can navigate better this world."

"Exactly!" Iris said, her heart swelling with the connection. They exchanged numbers before parting ways, both feeling a spark of excitement for what lay ahead. As Iris walked back to her apartment, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of her first day.

After two months of classes at Blackmore University, they all settled pretty well into their new lives. They had already met Chad's roommate and new friend Ethan, and even though they didn't really talk, he seemed great. So she decided it was time to introduce her new friend Anika to the rest and what a better introduction to her group than a movie night.

*Hey! We're having a movie night at my place this Friday. Wanna join?* Iris sent a quick text to Anika.

Within minutes, Anika replied with an enthusiastic thumbs-up emoji and a string of excited messages. *Count me in! What are we watching?*

Iris grinned as she typed back, *Some classics, does pizza sound good to you?*

As Friday evening approached, everyone was already there, arranging cozy blankets and cushions on the floor.

"So tell me again, on a scale of 1 to 10, how pretty is your friend?" Mindy asked, her tone mischievous as she plopped down onto a cushion. Just as Iris prepared to respond, she swiftly threw a pillow at Mindy, who expertly dodged it.

"What? I'm asking an important question!" Mindy defended, her laughter echoing in the room.

"I agree with Mindy; I want to know too!" Chad chimed in, raising his hand like an eager student, a grin stretching across his face. He leaned forward, clearly invested in the banter.

"You both are disgusting. I'm not going to answer that," Iris said, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the amusement dancing in her gaze.

"So, like, a ten then?" Mindy shot back, winking at her brother, who snickered at the playful exchange.

Just then, the doorbell rang, slicing through their lighthearted conversation. Iris jumped up, a flutter of excitement in her chest, and rushed to the door. She swung it open to find Anika standing there, vibrant and cheerful, a large bag of gummy bears in one hand and a couple of cold beers in the other.

"Hi, girl!" Anika greeted as they embraced each other, stepping inside with a wide smile that radiated warmth. "Didn't know what to bring, so I brought my two faves!"

"Beer and candy? Yeah, everyone is going to love you," Iris exclaimed, grinning as she led her friend into the living room.

Chad was the first to approach, extending his hand with an inviting smile. "Hi, pleasure to meet you! We thought Iris invented herself a friend,".

"Asshole," Iris muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes at Chad's antics while stifling a laugh.

Ethan, Quinn, and Sam soon joined the introductions, each welcoming Anika with friendly smiles. Sam, however, approached a bit more cautiously. Still, she was as nice as she could be for Iris's sake.

Anika's gaze then shifted to the shorter girl in front of her, and her smile widened. "Ohh, you must be Tara!" They embraced warmly. "Iris talks about you all the time."

Iris's eyes went wide, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "The fuck, no, I do not!" she protested, trying to sound incredulous but failing to mask her embarrassment.

Tara beamed at Anika, her confidence surging. Once she heard Iris's flustered response, she couldn't resist. "I mean, she just said you do. Can't get enough of me?" Tara declared, her tone playfully bold, reveling in the moment.

"I only talk about how much you annoy me," Iris shot back, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at Tara, who laughed heartily, her joy infectious.

Tara turned around just in time to see Anika mouthing to her, "No, that's not true," and the girl couldn't help but smile. Oh, Tara really liked Anika.

Tara moved closer, a playful glint in her eye as she threw the pillow back at Iris, leaning in as she did. "You're extremely red," she teased, enjoying Iris's flustered reaction.

"No, I'm not!" Iris protested, her voice a little too defensive.

"Like, actually crimson," Tara quipped, laughter bubbling in her throat.

"Go to hell Carpenter".

"I just love to annoy you".

"Yeah well I'm going to love to push you out of the balcony".

Anika then turned her attention to the last person she hadn't met yet. She found herself in front of a strikingly attractive woman with curly hair, who was staring at her with her mouth slightly agape, as if trying to process the situation.

"Hi, I'm Anika," she said, her smile bright and amused as she took in the girl's stunned expression.

"H...hi, I'm Min...dy," Mindy stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. The moment was comically awkward, and both Chad and Iris exchanged glances, barely able to contain their laughter at the sight of Mindy's flustered face.

"Nice to meet you Mindy"

"Yeah same". Mindy came out of her stupor. "Please make yourself comfortable". And she proceed to show her around the apartment.

"It's not even her apartment". Iris said.

"Let her be gay in peace".

As the evening unfolded, soon laughter filled the room as they settled in. Mindy, strategically positioned herself next to Anika. Even with the movie playing, they all stayed up talking. Mindy and Anika continued to find ways to strike up a conversation with each other, it seemed that they had a lot in common. Anika cracked an extremely funny joke at one point, to which Mindy gave a loud snort.

"Did I really just laugh-snort? Oh no." She was embarrassed as Anika just giggled in endearment.

"It was cute".

Iris stared at her two friends lightly flirting with each other and she couldn't help but smile at Mindy's face, she was in complete awe as she listened to everything Anika had to say.

Well, mission get Mindy and Anika together just started.

#scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #scream x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #sam carpenter #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader

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fandomfluffandfuck · 5 months ago

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Pussy Steve in a leg spreader is all I can think abouttt... Unable to escape any of the touch and he's sooo sensitive guh

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Ngl, since you sent this in in fucking August, oh god, this is all I've been able to think about.

I just... yeah. It's been on my mind. There's something about spreader bars that I fucking dying for and putting pussy Steve in one? Why didn't I think of that earlier!?

Since Bucky and Steve stumbled into the discovery of how fucking good messing around could feel when they were horny, clumsy teenagers all awkward and lanky limbs, Steve has sworn that the thing Bucky likes most is, just, punking Steve. Fucking with him.

It started legitimate, at least. His thing.

His kink, maybe.

Back then, when Steve was all too close to stumbling and falling through death's door from his precarious place curled up on its stoep like some abandoned orphan, it was for his own good. He didn't want to admit it, not even fucking close, and Bucky didn't demand that he did, but he kept it in mind regardless. He kept Steve still yet aroused, enough to keep him hard (or most of the way there) but not enough to send his heart into a frenzy of the wrong kind. That, usually, ment working him up nice and slow. But, somewhere along the way, between life and body altering transformations and devastating plunges into death and through it, the habit stuck. Maybe they just never had time to learn any other way, though.

Now, still, Bucky fucks with him by winding him up nice and slow. Consistent and sensual, as if waiting for his body to work itself up through its slow circulation and anemia and everything else going against him. He likes to watch the color wash into Steve's pale skin; he likes to feel how he burns hotter with rising arousal; he likes to hear the stuble pick-up of Steve's breath, getting more shallow and hitched; he likes to know that he's making Steve feel good, good enough to be a tugging, distracting current that's not breaking right now, not yet, but it will be, it will build and build and get to the point where, eventually, Steve just can't stand it and he'll shatter. But. By the time that he's breaking, he'll have been so fucking worked up that he doesn't see it coming. Sometimes, that means cumming without a sound, mouth hanging open, nothing but a silent exhale of agony, or, sometimes, that means cumming with a shocked, unrealized wailing-moan as he flails over the edge whether he wants to or not. He's been boiled alive, the water growing hotter so incrementally that he didn't even know.

It's that moment that Bucky chases: the break.

The moment of the break. But, still, getting Steve--a stubborn little spitfire--to break isn't half as fun without a crazy-long, agonizing wind-up. It adds to the break. The anticipation makes it better. Worse, to Steve.

Today, the slow, consistent, easy wind-up wasn't as, uh, private as usual, though. Steve wasn't laid out on the couch in their apartment, held in Bucky's lap, back-to-chest, with Bucky's fingers finding their way up his tight, tight shirt to trace over his skin, the valleys and hills of his muscle definition. Bucky just 'innocently' touching until he's not, circling and plucking and playing with his sensitive nipples until Steve's panting and has lost all sense of time. When did this even start? What time is it now? Will this ever end? Steve wasn't in their shower on a slow, lethargic evening--nothing done all day but lay around, alone together--Bucky sliding in behind him to wash his body and tease him until he's plenty fucking wet to let Bucky in by the time he reaches between his legs, sliding his thighs apart with relaxed, unhurried hands. Fingering him with no rush. Not even stretching him out on more than two fingers. The two of them enveloped in nothing but pouring sheets of water and hot steam. If the mirror could, it'd be blushing, watching Steve get pressed tight against the glass shower stall wall, his face and tits smushed, displayed, all pale pink and desperate. Steve wasn't in bed, either, under orders to not move an inch, or Bucky would stop. Still, still, still--not tense but torturously relaxed--as Bucky skirts the line between massaging him and tickling him, waiting for him to be 'ready...' Whatever that means. Steve's past ready. Hot and wet and puffy between his legs. One touch there, and he could come apart. If only Bucky would. But, no, none of that. Steve wasn't alone.

They weren't alone.

Well, at one point they were, now, when it really fucking starts, they aren't alone.

Winding-up, tighter and tighter and tighter, Steve is trying not to fucking lose his mind in the middle of a goddamn meeting. He's fucking surrounded. All sides. Right. Left. Behind him. Infront of him. Some people are in their supersuits and other agents in low-key, blacked-out S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms.

It's a storm of faceless, nameless shapes that are hardly even people to Steve right now. Whatever the hell this meeting is about (debrief? It's got to be a debrief, right? Bucky wouldn't endanger him or other innocent people by preventing him from taking in intell, right?), Steve isn't registering a lick of it. Instead, he's focused solely around the buzzing, aching, nearly-silent bullet vibrator in his boxer briefs. They're just fucking tight enough to keep it in place, nevermind how Bucky just so effortless slipped it into the pocket at the front of his drawers like it was meant to be there--as if there was no way in hell that Steve would go without it, of course, not.

Steve and Bucky's ears are the only ones that can pick up the subtle earthquake plundering Steve, crumbling his earth, inch by inch as that fucking tiny ass vibrator pulses, buzzes, and rumbles tightly against his swollen clit, soaking the dry-fit material of his boxers.

Oh, god.

All the fucking hours--it feels like hours--they've been sitting here Steve's had to keep himself from squirming or whining or doing anything that'd tip off anyone to the toy going at him. Whatever Bucky's doing to control it or whatever pre-set he's put it to, the pulsing vibrations are perfectly balanced to keep Steve balanced on the razor edge of agony. It's not enough to make him cum. It's too much to not be desperately arousing. And it's not consistent enough to be ignorable. He's still fucking sensitive to it, even after all the dragging, droning conversation.

Trying to keep himself together has resulted in the flush that he knows is painted across his cheeks, sitting high like a sunset just starting, not yet kissing the horizon line. But, more, the way he's sweating like a dog. He can feel the rivers of it pouring down his back, pooling underneath his arms, the dimples of his back, and down his asscrack to the insides of his thighs where he's urgently pressing them together. He isn't sure if he's making it better or worse for himself, pressing his legs together. On one hand, it makes him less fervently paranoid that someone else can hear his little vibrator where its rawing him, making him crazy, but on the other hand, clenched tight in his fist, it's making the vibrations spread through him so much easier. A rock thrown into a pond with the ripples emanating out, lapping at the shore. Steve's nerves are the taut surface of the water, every single vibration a pebble that builds into not little ripples but huge waves that lap and erode at his edges, making him think he's about to cum in his chair, hardly resisting from grinding into his seat, bucking his hips and letting his eyes roll back, his lip coming out from between his teeth to moan more like a roar, finally fucking released from his ongoing torture and devastated by how it eats at him. All that pleasure. Too much.

Right when Steve's about to fucking tap out, thunk his head on the table and shoot his hand down between his clenching thighs to ride his own hand to completion--shoving the vibrator tighter against his wet, wet, wet, and swollen, tortured, clit--as he moans. Fuck all the people in the room, they all have to sign so many NDAs to work for an agency like this, what's another one for, oh, yeah, that time that Captian America orgasmed out of nowhere in the middle of a meeting. Right then, Bucky's metal hand lands heavy on his upper arm, digging his fingers into his bicep through his suit and dragging him to his feet.

Steve feels like a mess.

Steve is a mess.

He can't believe no one else knows what's happening. He's hardly lucid enough to grunt out a 'yes' or bob his head or to anything to make it seem like he's on the same fucking planet as all the people around him. It's just enough, though. Just enough. Not, not enough--

If Steve was sure everyone knew what was happening when he was using all of his self-control to not hump the chair he was sitting in, then he absolutely fucking knows that everyone is immediately crystal clear about what's going on when Bucky hauls him out of that boardroom. Bucky is dragging him away, steadying him on his shaking feet, to fuck him into next Sunday. They know.

Bucky is dragging him off to fuck him.

Pre-emptive relief crashes over Steve like a wave at the realization and he pays fuck all attention to the sights and sounds around him. All he knows is that one minute they're in the meeting, it's dismissed, and the next minute, Bucky has cornered him in the elevator, and they're moving. They're alone. Steve doesn't just melt against the hot, solid line of Bucky's leather-clad body, he disintegrates.

His knees go weak, and his hands curl into clinging, pawing clumsy things that won't work. His face buries itself in his chest--between his pecs, if they were naked like they ought to be--and groans with all the breath in his chest, punched out.

Indulgently, Bucky holds him there like that for a moment, scruffing him around the back of his neck like he's a shaky, anxious kitten. Steve might as well be the way he mewls when Bucky brings up one of those fucking killer thighs to grind against his pussy.

Steve mewls.

The thick, solid muscle of Bucky's thigh forces him to confront, right fucking here in this work elevator, just how wet he is. He's wet. Soaked. Vibrating hard. He's been dripping the entire time they were in that stupid meeting, messing up his boxer briefs and probably even the inside of his suit--it's gonna be a bitch to clean. It's gonna smell like sex forever.

Steve isn't thinking about cleaning.

Steve is, oh, oh--

Bucky has him right fucking there, about to fucking cum, he's so close, he can feel the heated, tangled knot of pleasure pulling taut low in his belly, about to fucking fray apart. Pulled apart. It's in the back of his throat. He can feel it in his teeth, creeping into the muscle of his jaw, he's half-clenching his jaw and half letting it hang open. He doesn't know what his face is doing; it's probably fucked-out and dumb. But--

"Ah, ah, ah," Bucky tuts at him, pulling his thigh away and pulling him up by the nape of his neck.

Steve doesn't give a second thought about the pathetic, sharp whine he gives at having his orgasm disparagingly denied. Ruined? Whatever the fuck happened that's left his whole fucking body quivering and raw. He was so goddamn close!

So, so fucking close that that's the only thing he can hold onto. And even that, as Bucky pulls him out of the elevator--out out the building through a dizzying revolving door, pushes him onto the back of his motorcycle, heaves his arms around him, and drives them home--slips through his fingers like sand. Steve isn't holding onto anything. His arms are physically around Bucky's stocky waist as they ride, holding on, but he's not emotionally holding on to fucking anything. His brain is dripping out of his ears. Hours of vibration, his thighs clenched together, trying to keep it together. Now, his thighs are split wide around the heaving, breathing, rumbling body of Bucky's bike. It's a fucking animal.

Bucky drives like an animal. Feral and reckless as New York blurs messily past them. And Steve just nuzzles in tight, moaning recklessly and unashamedly into Bucky's ear from over his shoulder.

He's beyond desperate.

The blurred, smeared paint effect of the world around him gets worse when they're off the bike. Closer to home, Steve feels more of that pre-emptive relief surge through him more. He can't put himself back together, first shaken apart in that meeting and then blended up by the motorcycle ride. Too much. Not enough. Steve needs more.

Steve knew he was wet, but he didn't realize just how wet he fucking got until Bucky grabs him and twists him around, hauling him over his shoulder, smacking his ass and keeping a heavy, possessive hand there while he walks Steve's quivering body deeper into their home just to pin him down against their mattress all handsy and strong. Steve can't fucking fight. He just lays there, teeth chattering. He's vibrating so much himself he doesn't know if the bullet vibe is still on or not. He doesn't need it. He just. More. He needs more.

Steve needs more, thrown in through their slammed-open front door and stumbling in, unsteady and breakable as a fawn. Fuck it. He's not breakable, he's already broken. Broken open and spilling molten hot--pouring out his lust.

He's so fucking on edge anything could set him off. Anything will set him off. Just. Please.

Steve can hardly fucking hear Bucky over the blood rushing in his ears, his heart pounding like mad. But he's saying something, asking something with that damn gorgeous Chesire cat grin, all predatory and sharp, "you gonna show me how fucking wet I make you, baby?"

"Wrong answer, honey," his salacious grin widens dangerously the higher he gets off teasing him.

Steve can't think.

He can't hear.

He can't move.

Yet, he must shake his head, trying to clear his mind, figure out what the fuck is happening, what to do, because Bucky responds to him like he's answered. Like he can do anything. As if Bucky hasn't turned him into a useless pile of wet, desperate need.

And while Steve can't move, so overwhelmed with his lust, Bucky has no such issues. He's crawling off the bed where he has Steve fucked up and pinned to grab, grab--

There's no time to really process what the fuck that is, what it's doing to him, and how it feels on him when suddenly, like a switch flipped, Steve's cunt is hot and wet and kept clenched between his tensed thighs then Steve's cunt is cold and drenched and exposed to open air.

Steve's vision is so hazy and blurred he doesn't even know what it is and he doesn't think it matters anyway because Bucky isn't using it, rather he's running his hands fervently all over Steve's quivering body to strip him of his uniform. The distraction doesn't last long, though, as ruined and desperate as Steve is, Bucky is the same. Their desire intrinsically intertwined. Twinned and deepened. Made that much more perilous together. Once he's stripped to nothing but his sweat and blush, Bucky uses that thing he grabbed.

It's a spreader bar. The thing. It's a long bar, reinforced, and forcing Steve's legs wide, wide apart.

Bucky peels Steve's legs apart with a grunt and obscene show of strength, his flesh arm fucking flexing and his metal arm revving--recalibrating in a way that Steve could drool over all fucking day--and makes Steve too fucking aware of how stupidly turned on he is. He's wet. He's swollen. He's raw. He's quivering in phantom vibrations. He's so fucking aware of how exposed he is.

Exposed.

He can't keep his legs together. Bucky is just--

Bucky has him.

Bucky is pawing at his wet pussy like the big bad man he is. Fucking him up like he's the wolf and Steve is innocently lost in the wood. Steve should be afraid of his claws, but he isn't. He really isn't. He wants claws. He wants teeth. He wants.

His pussy is so hot and slick compared to the rest of the air in their bedroom. It's mortifying. Could he be wetter? No. He couldn't get any fucking more turned on without just dying. He might die here. Steve wails and jerks but doesn't get anywhere. He can't. He's spread.

Oh.

Oh, god.

Unceremoniously then, exposed and spread, Bucky shoves his face up there, licking his wet slit hotly, and Steve squeals.

What is he going to do to him? Steve could sob. Steve is sobbing. What isn't he going to do to him? He just wants to cum! Bucky doesn't have to kill him. He can just let him cum! He doesn't have to murder him!! Just let him cum!

Pleeease.

#i hope you enjoyed this #this was what i spent my evening doing lol #got home did a shit ton of studying and then wrote filthy smut #lmao #asks #fandomfluffandfuck #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #pussy steve #big sub steve #dom bucky

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