#i had to end it before it carried on forever
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Prostitution (18+)
Sevika x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Of all the girls in the brothel, and she picked you.
WARNINGS: Brothel work (prostitute!reader), dom!Sevika, sub!reader, hair pulling, leather lingerie, grinding, fingering, strap-on use (r!receiving), Daddy Sevika, biting (briefly)
WORD COUNT: 2.1K
A/N: In honor of Arcane Season 2 coming out today, thought I would bring back one of my best kinktober prompts with everybody's favorite muscle mommy. Briefly considered making a part 2 for this but lemme know what you guys think?
dividers made by @cafekitsune
Why did you think this was a good idea?
Well, truth be told, you didn’t think this was a good idea… But it was the only idea you had left. Your family was dead, like everyone was in the Undercity. Your partner got herself killed from a shimmer overdose, and you were facing being homeless. Your entire world was turned upside down and it was all fucked to no end. But now you had to pick up the pieces.
You were hired at the brothel. What the actual fuck were you thinking? Well, you knew Babette, and she was willing to give you a chance. It was decent money, and you were given free food during every shift. How could you turn it down?
It was your first week and you have already been through hell. The women who came to the brothel tended to be high on shimmer and sloppy at best, but the men; they were aggressive, vicious, and you found yourself leaving with aches and pains every single night.
And yet, when you entered the room that you were assigned to today, you were surprised to say the least. The outfit on the bench was… strange. Normally, the clientele wanted something revealing, lace, and soft bright colors. No, you were given something black, made of leather, and matching black heels to complete the look.
“Don’t question it,” You told yourself. “Just put it on.”
You slowly stripped off all your clothes and pulled on the leather bustier and black lace panties. Your fingers twitched slightly as you strapped the heels to your feet and ran your fingers through your hair… Your lipstick was a deep maroon color, and you had dark, dramatic eyeliner. Seems like you thought it all out already?
Who was your client today? Why were you so nervous? What if it was a man that was three times your size? What if it was more than one man? What if you got hurt today?
“Did you hear about who she picked today?” A shiver raced down your spine as you approached the curtains in front of your door, biting down on your painted lip. Who were they talking about?
“Oh, I heard. Cute little new girl is about to get ruined today, huh?” You… they were talking about you! But who else? Who was she?
You’ll get your answer soon enough.
It felt like forever until you heard heavy footfalls in the hallways. Whispers carried in the corridors, along with the aggressive clicks of heels from your fellow ‘coworkers’ running away from whoever was making their presence known inside of the building. Your fingers trembled as you dared a peek out from behind your curtain.
Not even a second later, the curtain was being pulled back and in walked your client… Tall, muscular, handsome, and absolutely terrifying.
The brothel’s most regular visitor. Silco’s right hand… the person that everyone in the underground fears.
Sevika.
You nearly fell down the stairs, heels slipping on the concrete flooring as you tried to back away and give her the space she deserved. But it seemed she had other ideas.
Before your body could come in contact with the ground, the woman reached out and grabbed both of your hips with her hands. Her right hand was warm and calloused, a pulse beneath her flesh, but her left hand? Cold, sharp, and thrumming with the energy of her mechanical arm hidden beneath that cloak she always wears.
“Easy, doll,” Her voice is deep, husky almost as she steps forward and lowers you down to the stable surface behind you. Shivers raced down your back, and you couldn’t stop yourself from trembling in her grasp. For a moment, neither of you said anything. But then her eyes raked all over your body and she breathed, hard. “Damn, look at you… Pretty little thing all dressed up just for me?”
Were you supposed to speak? You have heard so many stories about Sevika… how aggressive and cruel she is out there on the streets, and how she kills without mercy or a care in the world. You were scared of her, to say the least… And Sevika could see it in your eyes. She knew what her reputation was and was more than happy to push the agenda.
“Scared of me?”
You inhaled sharply, your hands slowly sliding from your sides to hold onto her forearms. The whirring of the mechanics of her arm made your thighs tremble. “N-No, miss…”
“Funny,” Sevika reached down and gently ran her rough fingertips along the edge of your jaw before she slid her hand in your hair. “Only dumb girls feel no fear… Now, you aren’t dumb, are you sweet thing?”
You breathed slowly for a second, fearing you said something wrong to her. She looked amused, but looks could be deceiving… The gap between her two front teeth was cute. You focused on the crease of her jawline, the scars on her face, and the way her brows were pulled down.
She was so fucking hot that you forgot why you were afraid… and then, she grabbed at your hair, making you yelp and submit. Your hands had slid far too high up, and she was punishing you… Fuck, she was punishing you! “Better watch it. I’m paying to touch you, not the other way around.”
“But—” You hiccupped, looking into her eyes for the briefest second. She waited for your words to continue. “S-sorry…”
“Oh, she has manners?” Sevika showed off the smile that made your stomach flutter for a brief moment and reached down with both hands, gripping your thighs and lifting you off the floor like you weighed almost nothing to her. Out of instinct, your hands reached up and grabbed onto her shoulders for stability. “We’re going to have fun.”
Before you could utter another sound, you felt something press against you… something solid, and stiff. Something that felt like it was alive, right against the wet spot on your panties. A low moan left your throat, and you just immediately knew what it was.
“Take it off, doll,” Sevika breathed against your neck. “You know you want to.”
Fingers trembled as you reached for the cloak on her shoulders and slowly pulled it over her head. The brown fabric dropped to the floor behind her, and you looked down, confirming your suspicion. Sevika was strapped under her pants… the bulge was now way more obvious without the cloak.
“Feel that?” Sevika pressed her flesh hand to your rear and stepped forward, spinning you around and sitting herself down on the couch behind you. The second you were in her lap, she was pushing you down onto her hips and grinding the bulge against your cunt like it was her damn birthright to do so.
Your pulse quickened with every passing second, and you dropped your face down against her chest, breathing in the scent of tobacco and her natural scent… Strong, earthy, like a roaring wood fire. You didn’t know what came over you, but before you could scold yourself for knowing better, your tongue came in contact with her bear neck and your lips trailed all over her exposed skin.
Sevika tensed up and her fingers went from holding your hips to sliding under the fabric of your panties, grabbing at your flesh and making you instinctively bite down on her shoulder. Nowhere near enough to hurt, but enough for her to feel it. Sevika looked like she was about to start climbing the walls as she felt your hips roll forward on top of her.
With a simple flick of her metallic fingers, the underwear given to you was ripped off your body and you barely had time to recover before Sevika was lifting you off her lap and reaching to pull the zipper of her pants down. A sigh left your throat, and you could only push your face into her neck; Sevika didn’t like that.
“Nuh-uh,” She grabbed your chin with her flesh hand, pulling you back to look down into her eyes. Her grey irises were staring directly passed your fears and into your soul. It was like she was lighting you on fire from the inside out. “You look at me. Prettiest fucking girl is going to look at me when I fuck her.”
Her words made you blush from the tips of your ears down to your neck and you almost forgot that this was your job… It was easy to think that Sevika had just picked you out of everyone in the underground to have a night with. Not… that she was paying for it.
“Don’t worry,” Sevika smirked, that crease in her brow becoming more prominent as you felt her hand leave your face and slide down between your legs. When you felt her calloused fingers against your soft wet folds, you forgot how to breathe. “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”
The sound you made was beyond pornographic. Two of her fingers slipped inside of your wetness without any kind of resistance. Your entire body went rigid, and your eyes fluttered for a brief second before you forced yourself to look at her. Sevika smirked and basked in your expressions, slowly pushing you up and down on her digits.
What did you even say? What were you supposed to do? Sevika isn’t like your other clients… She’s so intense, even when she’s barely touching you. It feels like you are drowning, even if it’s just her presence surrounding you. Your inner walls squeeze at her fingers as she curls them at just the right angle. Sevika smirked.
“Oh, you like that?” Sevika kept you steady on her lap with her metal hand while the other one worked in and out of your pussy. “So wet for me, already? Barely touched you, doll.”
“Fuuck...” You rolled your entire body forward, biting your lip and leaning down just enough to press soft kisses against her face. “P-Please—”
“Please, what?” Sevika said sternly. “Use your words, doll.”
“I… I n-need… ohfuck...”
“Come on,” She smirked, curling her fingers at just the right angle that you almost feel your legs give out. “Just say it—”
“Fuck me,” You whine, finally giving in. “Please, please, please… fuck me, daddy.”
There was a hunger in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It was like a switch had flipped inside of her because in mere seconds, you went from sitting on her lap to her pushing you down into the floor that was littered with pillows, blankets, anything you could desire to make this as comfortable as possible.
Sevika all but ripped her pants to try and free what had been teasing you initially. You only had a few seconds to really look at the strap around her hips before she was lining the tip of the bright purple silicone against your core.
“Pretty little thing,” Sevika growled, almost ferally as she slammed down overtop of you. Suddenly, the leather around your chest felt entirely too tight, like you couldn’t breathe. You began frantically reaching for the ties to undo the restraint on your chest, and Sevika noticed because you gasped at her ripping the ropes off the bustier and pushing the fabric apart to really look at you.
“Now, because you were a good girl…” Sevika gently prodded your opening, making you whimper and reach for her biceps. “You get a warning before you get fucked.”
“Daddy, please—”
That was her trigger. You could only grab at her muscles before she was plunging all of her strap inside of your cunt like it belonged to her. You tried to scream, but nothing came out other than a strangled squeak as your head went back on the pillows and tears filled your eyes.
You aren’t a stranger to being stretched out like this. It wasn’t like it was your first day at the brothel… but it was your first day with Sevika. She only gave you a few seconds to adjust to that cock before she was reaching down with her flesh fingers and gently rubbing at your clit.
Your soft squeaks faded into intense moans, much to the woman’s delight. She chuckled, watching you squirm and look at her like she was an alien of some sort.
“Not what you expected, doll?” Sevika teased, rolling her hips forward and making you moan like the whore you were. “Didn’t think I’d care about making you feel good?”
Very stupidly, you nodded.
“Let me fix that,” She leaned down, and you curled your fingers into the leather of her jacket before bracing yourself for the most intense workday of your entire fucking life.
“Be good for daddy and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll beg me not to leave.”
And that is exactly what Sevika did.
#lgbt#lgbtq#arcane sevika#sevika#arcane#arcane league of legends#sevika x reader#dom!sevika#sub!reader#brothel#lesbian character#kinktober#kinktober 2023#sin archives#sevika smut#sevika x reader smut#arcane smut
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maybe it's not our fault - chapter 01
── synopsis: after a nasty breakup that’s left you completely shattered, you’re set on giving up on love forever. That is until, in a surprising turn of events, your respective best friends start dating and one of their main goals is to restore the peace in your broken relationship. Will their plan succeed? Will they manage to play cupid and get you and your high school sweetheart back together, or will it all backfire and result in the end of their own love story?
There is only one way to find out. If only your beloved’s heart wasn’t already broken beyond repair…
╰─▸ ❝ pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader
╰─▸ ❝ content: exes to lovers, angst, mutual pining, fluff, suggestive themes, drama and heartbreak, jock!hyunjin who is captain of the uni's football team + dance major!hyunjin, college au, lack of communication.
╰─▸ ❝ word count: 10k
a/n: it's here!! special thank you to my croissant baby laure @byunfirstlady (this wouldn't be a me story if i didn't mention her somehow fgfdgh) for reading this for me before posting!! since this is the first chapter, things might feel a little slow, but dw, it will all pick up soon! enjoy <33 and do let me know your thoughts after reading <3
“That is not going to fit!”
He scoffs, already annoyed. “Yes, it is! Just move over a little.”
“A little? I’m already stretched the fuck out! What more do you want from me?”
“Seohyun, I swear to fucking God – “
She yelps, most likely cramping. “Just pull it out, you dumbass – “
“What the hell is going on in here?”
You and Chan stop dead in your tracks, confused at the scene currently playing out in front of your very eyes. You were gone downstairs for less than ten minutes to get the rest of your stuff, with you and Chan carrying a box each that held the essentials to ensure this move went smoothly. And in that time frame, your two other best friends have already managed to be at each other’s throats.
The front door of your apartment was wide open, with dumb and dumber currently looking like two deers caught in headlights on opposite sides, separated by an old armchair whose springs had become a death trap over the years. Last year, when you held parties here, someone was always left standing — it was either the cursed chair or the floor, with most guests picking the latter once they were drunk enough.
“Uh, hi?” Jisung greets, forcing a smile onto boyish features that haven’t changed much since you met almost seven years ago, in high school.
Bewiled, you set the box down by Chan’s feet and approach. “Are you guys, okay? What happened?”
Whistling, Jisung tries to pretend he has everything under control. He doesn’t, he never does, that’s just the type of guy he was. “Duh, we’re fantastic! Everything is under control, don’t even – “
Called it.
“For the love of god, just shut up and let them help us already!” Seohyun barks from the other side, prompting you to peek in to see her straighten her posture, rubbing her wrists in obvious discomfort. With a sigh and a glare from Jisung who steps back to allow Chan to take his place, she explains. “We were trying to get this chair out to make room for the new one.”
Chuckling, Chan inspects the door frame while you pass Seohyun one of the boxes right over the ugly, red chair that’s seen better days. “And it got stuck?”
“Yes, because Jisung didn’t want to listen – “
“Or maybe because you started pushing when I wasn’t ready, like an idiot.” He counters instantly, never one to back out from a fight instigated by Seohyun. Not to be fooled, these two were as close as can be, the bickering reflective of their special bond.
You and Chan share a look as they start again, amusement clear in gentle, doe eyes that have comforted you numerous times over the years. Meeting back in the summer before high school, you and Chan have been attached at the hip ever since, clicking as pre-teens and growing up together, maturing down the same path that’s led you to the same university, and even the same major you also shared with Jisung. Music production has always been a passion of yours, so getting to fulfil that dream with your absolute best friend by your side was a blessing you couldn’t be more thankful for.
“Alright.” Chan stops their bickering, one hand landing on Jisung’s shoulder to get his attention. “Stand on it.”
“Pardon?” Jisung blinks at him, as confused as you and Seohyun were, not sure he heard Chan right.
Smiling, Chan squeezes his shoulder. “So, you can step on the backrest and make it fall over. It will be easier to move afterwards.”
“You think so?” He asks, biting down on his bottom lip, not confident in the slightest.
Your best friend nods, giving his bottom an encouraging pat. “Positively. Now go on, I don’t want to spend my whole day in this hallway.”
Seohyun scrambles back, unwilling to get caught in between Jisung and the chair, giving him enough room to do what he must to free her exit.
Watching the whole scene unfold has you smiling from ear to ear, struggling to keep your laughter at bay once Jisung realizes the task isn’t as dangerous as he expected. It’s anticlimactic, more than anything, as he gets on top of the chair to step on the backrest, going down slowly without even losing his balance.
He blinks, barely realizing it’s over before making eye contact with Seohyun who bursts out laughing like she’s been holding it in since the beginning. The three of you join in quickly after, your delight bouncing off the hallway walls and lifting the spirits tremendously.
After all, nobody in existence was ever excited for summer to end and classes to start again, with a new, even more demanding schedule than last year. You were in your third year now and things were bound to get difficult the closer you got to graduating.
This silly moment was exactly what you needed to start the new year right, sure it would become a core memory later down the line when you’d all be working adults, with even more responsibilities and nonexistent free time. The sight of Chan dragging the armchair out, without any difficulty whatsoever as Jisung and Seohyun’s jaws hit the floor, incredulous he didn’t struggle like they did, was sure to bring a smile to your face for years to come.
When your only access to the apartment was finally free, the four of you gathered inside with the remaining boxes.
“You weren’t kidding, you do have all of your stuff here.” Seohyun hums, scanning her surroundings, and her new home. The apartment was yours. You moved in just last year and you’ve lived by yourself until now, when you welcomed her with open arms and a little too much excitement.
“Yeah.” You nod, already moving around to put the scattered things back in their rightful places. “Sorry about the mess. I didn’t bother cleaning up before leaving.”
The living room was fine – your bedroom was the one that suffered the most, already dreading the thought of having to dig through all the mess to find most of your things.
The apartment was a gift from your parents, after successfully finishing your first year of university living in a dorm. Sure, having your own space was great, but you’d never trade that first year for anything in the world. That’s where you meet Seohyun after all, growing closer and closer with every sleepless night you spent together giggling and talking about everything under the sun, not feeling the hours tick by until one of your alarms would ring, signalling the start of a new day.
It was big, too spacious for only one person to live in, with two bedrooms and a bathroom straight out of an interior design magazine. Even though Seohyun didn’t move in until now, you were never truly alone with Jisung and Chris living right next door. Someone was always keeping you company, which you were thankful for, in more ways than one.
Already moving about like they owned the place, Chris and Jisung were helping you tidy up, with the latter moving to check for anything rotten in the kitchen. With four pairs of hands on deck, it didn’t take more than fifteen minutes for everything to be back to normal, leaving you to take care of the dusting.
“Alright.” Chan stands, carrying two trash bags. “Ji, let’s go get the armchair.”
Jisung follows before Seohyun calls after them. “Right, is it in your car?”
“I thought it was in yours?” He turns around, stopping in the doorway while Chan is already busy calling the elevator, further away.
You see her brows furrow, setting the duster down before grabbing her car keys. “Nope.”
The ding of the elevator gets your attention, and they share a look before hurrying after Chan, in search of said armchair, the door closing behind them with a quiet thud. You lived high up, on the 10th floor – nobody was ever willing to take the stairs and waste that much time.
And so, in the blink of an eye, you are left alone in the apartment that held so many of your memories, beautiful moments you wouldn’t trade even in exchange for forgetting the sad ones.
You feel a little lost, staring around like you couldn’t recognize your own home, shoulders slumping with a deep sigh. Your gaze moves towards your closed bedroom door, feet following before your hand twists the doorknob and you’re engulfed in sunlight, blinking rapidly to adjust to the change in lighting.
Inside, the sight that greets you seems frozen in time, transporting you back in June to the last moments spent in this room, where you were running around to pack in a hurry. You don’t dare move, just taking it all in as memories flood your mind and make your heart ache in your chest, what still remains of it, anyway.
All of your stuff thrown around haphazardly painted a picture you didn’t enjoy, yet couldn’t look away from either. Your bed remained unmade, with piles of clothing, bags and random objects occupying all the space. Framed photographs were thrown everywhere around the room, just so they would stop glaring at you from their place on your nightstand, face down and most likely damaged by the broken glass. The vase on your dresser, which used to stand tall with beautiful, healthy flowers seemed to have lost its color, struggling to fulfil its purpose because of the dried, mouldy peonies you didn’t bother throwing out before leaving.
But what’s even worse than the mess is what tipped you over the edge back then, falling to your knees on the fluffy, white carpet as you sobbed uncontrollably – the things he left behind were still here, in the exact same spots, in pristine condition. Your room looked like it barely survived the hurricane that shared your name, yet his red cap was still resting quietly next to the flowers he got you. One of his sketchbooks, still opened on that drawing he never got to finish as he got too busy with school, was on the other nightstand, on his side of the bed. A pair of his dancing shoes were by the door, right next to your comfy slippers. They have been there for so long, that you couldn’t enter your room without tripping over them and be reminded of his presence every single time. Hell, you bet if you checked right now, his toothbrush will still be next to yours in the cute holder you bought together, his razor not far away.
There were traces of him everywhere you looked in this apartment, clothes and necessities he left behind on his many visits. Like his football jersey, lucky number 20, you’ve worn more times than him, hung in your open closet among empty hangers that barely held on.
It wasn’t fair, how you seemed to crumble along with everything around you while he, and his stupid things, remained intact. The world shattered beneath your feet, freefalling to your doom of self-doubts and regrets while he continued with his life like nothing even happened. Like you never happened; like you weren’t such a fundamental part in his life in the exact same way he was in yours.
Your ex boyfriend moved on in the blink of an eye, while you were still here, crying at the sight of a stupid toothbrush.
This will never be fair. Why did you always seem to draw the short end of the stick?
New beginnings were usually your favorite. Starting another book, turning a new leaf and switching up your wardrobe for a change, getting the inspiration for another song – these were all activities that brought you joy. Now, returning to campus at the end of summer vacation to begin another school year? For the first time since starting university two years ago, felt like an impossible task, one you weren’t ready for in the slightest. Because how could you ever be ready to start your junior year without him?
How could you possibly embark on a new journey without him holding your hand and guiding you through it all, navigating around every hardship with ease like he was the most experienced sailor in existence?
You had no answers, only questions. Too many that were also too loud, bouncing off of the sturdy walls of your mind that were threatening to crumble with every thud, remaining standing only thanks to the unbearable headaches that reminded you to take a break from all the overthinking.
Your mind went quiet as another voice made its presence known, bringing you back to the world outside your bedroom while shooing the dark cloud above your head out the window with ease.
“Oh my god, we lost the goddamn chair!”
A wet laugh escaped your lips, more tears rolling down your cheeks as you desperately tried to wipe them all before joining your friends in the living room. You weren’t stupid – they were worried. That’s why Seohyun was moving in, in the first place. To keep an eye on you at all times, when the other two couldn’t be there and provide the much needed support you craved so badly.
Not like they knew you were aware of their little plan, having them figured out from the moment they showed up at Chan’s doorstep in Australia, last month. They’ve been tiptoeing around you since then, not knowing what emotional state you were in or what’s changed or hasn’t in the two months you spent apart. Sure, Chris might have filled them in, but they were still afraid. Afraid they were going to mess up somehow and have you slipping through their fingers and shatter at any moment, like you were nothing more than a fragile package, all progress lost the second something that reminded you of him jumped into your path.
And, you hate to admit but they were right.
They failed to take into consideration that even though your ex never actually moved in, the apartment was his as much as it was yours, quickly becoming your shared home as you fell into a routine that involved the other at every step.
Your three close friends were the only people present, but all you could see was him, a ghost roaming around and haunting every corner of the house you now despised, his giggles caressing your ears gently every time you moved from one room to the other.
Just being here felt like torture. How were you supposed to spend another two years sleeping in the same bed you shared with the person you thought was going to be your forever?
“Sweetheart.” Chan’s gentle voice coaxes you out of the room as you manage to pull yourself together, no sign of crying or distress still present on your features. If anything, they looked worse than you, crestfallen and a little embarrassed.
“We have something to tell you.” Seohyun steps closer, gently taking your hands into hers and intertwining your fingers loosely.
Jisung nods and is by your side in a second, throwing an arm around your shoulders as he lowers his mouth to your ear. “Chris lost your new armchair.”
“What the fuck?!”
Your laughter joins theirs, a beat later, as Chris remains the only one standing there, arms crossed over his chest with his words falingl on deaf ears, nobody paying attention as he begins defending himself.
When you’re pulled into a warm embrace, with Jisung’s cologne enveloping all your senses, you can’t help but start wondering. Is this a good time to finally reveal you never actually ordered a new chair or…?
︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
Saturday slipped away into a moment in time, and before you knew it, Sunday was upon you. Your last chance at relaxing before the craziness began, and you’d be thrust into a series of new projects, classes and assignments that were already giving you a headache.
Despite spending the previous night celebrating a new beginning with your best friends, having an intimate pizza party with karaoke and a little too much alcohol, you wake up bright and early to get to a previously made appointment. Usually, you wouldn’t go anywhere for the summer, for the first two months anyway. But since you flew out of the country as soon as your exams were over, you didn’t get to help the animal shelter you have been volunteering at since your first year. It left a hole in your heart, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel guilty for disappearing into thin air, with nothing more than a text sent to the owner to let her know you’ll be going away for a while.
Hopefully, they’re willing to forgive and forget and let you make up for it by spending the next two months as involved as possible.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Comes Chan’s groggy voice, still husky from all the singing he did last night, stumbling out of your spare bedroom with barely open eyes.
You startle, losing your balance while putting on your other shoe and crashing into the wall by the front door. You were hoping to make a swift escape and return before any of them rose since nobody in their right mind would willingly wake up this early.
He appears from around the corner, tank top slightly raised as he’s trying to scratch at his back. “You good?”
“Yep, everything’s just peachy.” Regaining your footing, you manage to put your shoe on and turn your back to him to get a jacket, feeling too awkward to make eye contact right now, which Chan would have laughed about if he wasn’t so sleepy.
“Where are you going?” He yawns, turning to squint at the clock on the far wall, above the couch. “It’s literally 7 am, too early to even be alive right now.”
For some reason, you hesitate to tell him, too out of it for your, and most definitely his liking. Being here was certainly not doing you any good, the walls closing in every time you tried to breathe and lift all the broken pieces of your stupid heart off of your lungs. It felt suffocating, especially when you were left alone with your thoughts as you zoned out one too many times.
Still, you mumble under your breath, reaching for your keys as silently as possible.
“Huh?”
With a sigh, you finally face him, eyes downcast. “Furry Friends Rescue.”
The smile that stretches across his features as he processes your words is so wide and contagious, it brightens up the whole room like he was somehow related to the sun itself, light radiating off of him in waves. It wakes him up instantly, and before you know it, he slips into a pair of slides left by the door and flies to his apartment.
You look after him, confused, and step into the hallway at the same time he does.
“Alright, let’s go!” He beams, locking his door before reaching for your arm softly. “I’ll drive you!”
“Wait, are you sure? I can – “
“Yes, I’m sure!” He frowns, shaking his head and pulling you after him with his newfound energy. “You love it there, and I know you already miss Berry. The least I can do is offer you a ride, are you kidding?”
You can’t help but smile at the mention of his puppy, spirits lifted in an instant. She was such a special little lady and you really bonded in these three months you’ve spent at his parents’ house.
Your parents never allowed you to have a pet, with your mom being allergic, so you did what you could to fill the space that remained constantly empty in your heart.
The drive there is full of laughter and even more singing, with Chris bringing back one of the activities you loved doing since he first got his license back in high school. Carpool karaoke has always been a must in his car, and that’s why you rode with Seohyun on your way back from the airport yesterday. You were a fool because nothing was quite as therapeutic as being silly and singing Disney songs at the top of your lungs with the only person who’s watched you grow into the adult you are today.
The drive to your destination isn’t long, but you still manage to squeeze in five songs before you get off and Chris speeds off. Only after wishing you a good day and making you promise you’ll call once you’re done so he can come pick you up, too. He was too kind, willing to do too much for you sometimes, but you were just the same. You’re afraid you might try moving the moon if he asked, one day.
Your annoying, overprotective brother who wasn’t really your brother, who’d push you into the pool before jumping in to save you in the same breath. He was such a guy.
Approaching with a prep to your step, the shelter’s surroundings have changed drastically since your last visit. The trees in the back have dyed their leaves in warm shades of orange and yellow, scattering some on the ground in hopes of attracting more pet lovers. A beautiful background always pulled people in, just like all pretty things did, and this autumn is particularly beautiful, with sights straight out of famous paintings. Seoul was truly a special city, one that’s nurtured and taught you the meaning of the word love that’s being thrown around too casually for your taste, these days. The city you grew up in, where you found your love for writing and composing, and where you met the most amazing people on this planet.
No other city could compare to your birthplace, no matter how pretty or modern it was.
Just as you make to try the door, with your apology speech all ready to go, it suddenly opens and forces you to take a few steps back in surprise.
“I’m sorry, we aren’t open yet.” The apology comes from a tall man, whose delicate features would have fooled you into believing he wasn’t older than a high schooler. Yet his physique begs to differ, you could tell even from beneath all the layers. He’s wearing the shelter’s apron with the logo you’ve had Jisung design a few years back. A new employee, perhaps? You don’t recognize him, so that’s most likely the case.
Your gaze travels upwards until it meets his brown eyes that fidget at the sudden contact. “Sorry, I’m here to see Mrs. Jeon?”
The stranger shakes his head, bleached blond hair hiding an undercut following his every move. “Mrs. Jeon is out of the country.”
You wait for him to continue, provide more details but when he doesn’t and only raises a brow that almost asks ‘what are you still doing here?’ you sigh and turn to leave. “Right. Will you please tell her Y/n has stopped by?”
“Wait, Y/n L/n?”
You turn right on your heel, both of your eyebrows raised as if to challenge his. “Do I know you?”
He brings his hands up, showing he means no harm as a smile finds his rosy lips, one you don’t truly grasp the meaning of. “No! But I know you.”
Alright, now you’re properly creeped out. Noticing the look on your face, the man quickly corrects himself, letting out an awkward laugh as he rubs the back of his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not good with strangers. Mrs. Jeon does! I was recruited in your place when you didn’t come back in June.”
Oh, so he was your replacement. Great. You had no idea you’d entered a race to see how fast people and places you frequented could replace you during the summer. Very motivating and uplifting. You should have stayed home.
“Oh.” Despite all the thoughts overlapping each other in your head, you only manage to sigh, properly exhausted.
His eyes widen slightly, and without thinking, he grasps your elbow when you turn around to leave for good. “Please do come in! Mrs. Jeon has been waiting to hear from you. She left a note.”
“A note?” When he nods, you shake off his hand and accept the invitation, stepping inside filled with curiosity.
All of the furry friends were in the back, in a separate space away from the reception. The place was modern, decorated in warm, pastel colors that seemed to welcome you with a fuzzy hug, the surroundings pristine. Furry Friends Rescue was built from the ground up by Mrs Jeon’s late husband, who passed away a few years back, right after you started volunteering here. To honor his life, she kept this place running, making it her mission to find loving homes for all the animals that were brought in, investing most of her resources into modernizing the place and treating the animals like they deserved to be treated.
The shelter housed a veterinary office and a pet salon, run by other volunteers who were experts in their fields, students alike and even working people who would come by to offer a helping hand whenever they could. Mr Jeon was a vet – he used to treat all of the animals before he fell sick and became unable to work.
Making his way around the reception desk, which truly resembled the entrance of a corporation, even with all the pet pictures plastered on all the walls, and the dog pattern on the couch, the man picks up a note that was next to the bone-shaped phone.
“Here.”
Your fingers brush his as you take the small paper from him, but you don’t pay any attention to the slight color that appears on his cheeks.
Dear Y/n,
I hope your precious heart managed to heal during your trip
What fitting words for someone who had no idea why you left in the first place. Guess Mrs. Jeon knew you better than you thought, after all.
If you’re reading this, it means I have not yet returned from visiting my grandbabies. It also means Jaemin is the one looking after the place
Please work together until I’m back. He’s a nice kid and I believe you’ll get along well
That is if you’re still willing to return. Always put yourself first. If quitting is what you think is best, just know I’ll never hold it against you
With love, grandma J
P.S. there’s a surprise on the other side 😊
Curious, you flip over the page, eyes scanning the familiar handwriting to decipher what has she left you. A giggle escapes you soon after, shaking your head with fondness spilling from your eyes at her antics. You’re glad that after everything she’s been through, Mrs. Jeon has never changed.
“Is something funny?” The guy you’ve come to learn is named Jaemin asks from the other side of the desk, head tilted slightly in wonder making him resemble an actual puppy.
You dismiss him with a wave of your wrist, pocketing the note. Mrs. J’s brownie recipe you could never get enough of wouldn’t interest him anyway.
“So, you’re Jaemin?” You finally ask, giving him a once-over. He was tall, wearing a denim-on-denim outfit and smiled a little too brightly for your liking. Still, he did look like a nice guy, so you might as well give him a chance, even if meeting someone knew was the last thing you wanted to do.
As expected, he beams, thrusting a hand forward over the desk. “That’s me! Nice to meet you, Y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
You give him a small but genuine smile and shake his hand. “I’m a third year at SNU so I usually volunteer here during summer vacation. I hope we get along.”
He nods, listening to your every word. “Yeah, Mrs. Jeon mentioned we go to the same university. I’m a second year majoring in dance! I’m also a part of the football team so I apologize in advance if I ever end up leaving you here all alone when the season starts.”
Oh, what were the odds?
Your smile drops despite your effort in not reacting, retracting your hand a little too quickly while nodding and trying to act as normal as possible. “Cool.”
Turning around, you begin walking in the opposite direction to escape from this awkward situation Mrs. J has unknowingly put you in.
“Shall we go see the animals?”
He’s on your tail soon after, grabbing another apron on the way for you with that ever present sunny smile of his. Jaemin reminded you of a hyperactive puppy, a golden retriever who would do anything to make you happy, pulling silly stunts and stumbling over his own feet.
Turns out, his bright personality isn’t the only reason Mrs. J has hired Jaemin. You spend the next four hours together, taking care of the animals and talking, to your surprise. They all seemed to love him already, causing a ruckus at the mere sight of him, excited to be let out and greet you both properly. The puppies especially as they’d run back and forth from you to him without stopping for a while, barely managing to bottle feed them in their excitement. Jaemin was nice, and easy to talk to, happy to get to know you but also talk your ear off when sensing you might need a laugh, managing to make everything funny. A great pick me up, you ended up agreeing with Mrs J’s statement – he was a good guy, the best that could have replaced you and helped her and all the staff in your absence.
For some reason, he felt comfortable opening up to you, and in turn, you told him some things about yourself too.
“What made you want to volunteer here?” He suddenly asks while cradling a noisy kitten, the sight comical.
You barely think before answering, gaze still trained on the bichon that has fallen asleep in your lap while you were brushing her. “I wasn’t allowed to have pets growing up, and I’ve always loved them. I was lucky my best friend had the most adorable puppy in the world right next door, but it wasn’t the same as owning one, you know?”
Jaemin nods, finally calming the kitten, eyes on you. “Oh, that sucks. I couldn’t imagine life without my two babies at home.”
You look up, curious. “You have dogs?”
“Two cats.” He throws a peace sign, chuckling when you smile. “I’m from Busan, so I only get to see them on holidays. I thought coming here and helping out four days a week might help me miss them less.”
“And? Does it help?” You point to the kitten that has fallen asleep in his arms, head crocked to the side weirdly. Looking down, he laughs and sets her in his lap, using his knuckles to gently pet between her ears, one of his hands as big as her whole body.
“It does, actually.” He smiles absentmindedly, most likely reminiscing about his fur babies. “But only momentarily. When I’m back in my dorm room, I still feel their absence.”
“I’m sorry.” Is all you say, a deep pang of sadness hitting you out of nowhere. You guess this is how Chris and Jisung feel as well, both away from their respective dogs they’ve more or less grown up with.
Jaemin shakes his head, still smiling and not as sad as you’d thought he’d be. “None of that. I facetime my mom every night just to see them.”
“That’s cute.” A smile finds its way on your face as you imagine him using the same baby voice he uses with the animals here on the phone with his mom, cooing at his cats.
“You’re cute.”
An uncharacteristic silence falls upon you as Jaemin searches for your gaze, dying to understand your reaction. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just weird, making you feel like you were doing something wrong. Which made no sense. Jisung and Chan called you cute all the time; not out of nowhere, but when the moment was right. Heck, Seohyun would write entire pages praising your beauty whenever you posted on Instagram – you knew you were cute. But this was different, this was someone that meant it romantically, you could tell. He was flirting with you, shooting his shot and seeing where it landed.
That wasn’t something you could reciprocate, especially not now.
When he notices the look in your eyes, the storm brewing behind them, he adds. “I was talking about Belle over there.”
You look down at Belle, the fluffy bichon in your lap, who is currently sleeping soundly on her back, tummy up and randomly kicking her feet once in a while, dreamland surely rowdy.
“Shut up.” You laugh a moment later, appreciating how fast he took the hint and backed off, leaning over to softly push him on the doggy mats, to which he pretends to fall just for your amusement.
With that out of the way, things return to normal quickly and before you know it, the other volunteers arrive and you’re biding Jaemin goodbye and going on your merry way, back to your apartment.
It’s afternoon now, hopefully your friends are awake by now.
︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
They were in fact, not awake. Jisung just moved himself from the spare bedroom he shared with Chris for the night to the living room couch to sleep some more, without having to deal with the other’s snoring. Seohyun was buried in your blanket, hiding from the world, in the same position she was in when you left that morning.
Like it or not, it seems their bodies were incapable of pulling all-nighters after doing it for so many years without suffering the day after. Hopefully, you all manage to fix your sleep schedules before your classes start properly, not wanting to miss too many and be left behind, confused out of your minds and barely figuring it out by the time exam season rolls around.
︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
“I’m sleepy.” Seohyun complains, reaching up to rub her eyes before remembering the pretty eyeliner currently gracing her eyelids and stopping at the last second, groaning.
You giggle, full of energy from the coffee Chris made sure got into your system before your first class, swirling the ice in your cup absentmindedly, mind somewhere else.
Busy on his phone, he doesn’t even look up as he responds. “You barely made it to class this morning and you’re still complaining?”
Monday, 10:15 am. Your first class of the day officially ended fifteen minutes ago and as you’ve been doing for two years now, your friend group meet up at your favorite location, the diner closest to campus that has become some sort of sanctuary by now.
Seohyun was majoring in communication so she did not share your classes yet somehow, the four of you have started the new school year in the same way – with a boring, way too long 8 am lecture that almost erased your will to live.
She shoots him a dirty look he doesn’t notice, but otherwise doesn’t respond, too tired to bother with Chris and his top student agenda. Because being popular, good at sports and everyone’s friend wasn’t enough for him; your best friend was the academic weapon every freshman aspired to be, without trying too hard either. Hands down the most gifted and smartest person you know.
“You did go to bed super late last night.” You reach for her hand across the table, gently massaging her palm in hopes she’ll feel a bit better.
Just then, Jisung returns with your drinks, handing them out one by one like he was a barista himself. When he’s done and you all thank him, he takes his seat across from you and Chris, next to Seohyun. “What did I miss?”
“Seohyun was complaining.” Chris responds instantly, fingers typing away. What could be more interesting than spending time with your closest friends?
“Oh, so nothing new.”
At the same time, you softly smack the back of Chris’ head while she smacks Jisung, with a little more force, only the latter reacting loudly.
“Stop being mean.” You reprimand, and Chris puts his phone down with a sigh, leaning back in his chair to stretch his arms above his head.
“For your information, being late was not my fault.” Seohyun chimes in, finally in the mood to explain herself after taking several sips of her coffee. “This random guy ran straight into me, I was tackled to the ground!”
Concern flashes over your features. “Are you okay?”
She nods. “Yeah, don’t worry. He helped me up and gathered all of my books while apologizing. Then I met up with Ji and he carried my bag to class.”
Both you and Chris shoot Jisung a curious look, not convinced he went through all of that trouble out of the kindness of his own heart.
“In my defense,” Jisung shrugs, his arm thrown over the booth behind Seohyun’s head, “I really did not want to come to class.”
Chris chuckles and sips from his strawberry milkshake while you shake your head, smiling and pinching the back of Jisung’s hand that was resting on the table, to which he retaliates by throwing the straw paper in your face.
“To be honest, I wasn’t paying attention either so he’s not entirely to blame here.” She continues like neither of you has said anything, resting her head in her palm with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Besides, he was fucking gorgeous. I swear I’ve never seen such a beautiful man before. And his freckles? Literal constellations right on his cheeks, oh my god.”
“Okay, Juliet, pipe down.” Jisung flicks her forehead and she swats his hand away, glaring.
Amused, you lean closer with interest. “Did you get his name?”
She shakes her head. “No” Then, her gaze moves to Chris. “That’s why, I need you to find him for me.”
Raising a brow, he reaches for your drink to have a taste before responding. “What am I, the local newspaper? You’re the one who bumped into him.”
“Yes, but you literally know everyone on campus.”
He makes a face, deeming your drink too bitter for his taste. “So do you.”
That was true. Seohyun was the definition of a social butterfly, mingling with all cliques and being liked by everyone she came into contact with. However, she was also very perceptive so if someone’s vibe seemed off, she could come across as cold and aloof, not giving them the time of day.
“Please?” She continues, resorting to the infamous puppy eyes. “This guy might be the love of my life, Chris, please help me.”
“What about Mark?” Jisung buts in, giving her a questioning look. Immediately, you and Chris signal for him to cut it out, abort the ship and never utter that name for as long as he draws breath.
Seohyun’s gaze drops to her cup, manicured finger moving back and forth on the edge, pretending she didn’t hear any of the words that have left Jisung’s mouth. To his credit, Jisung looks a little guilty, arm sliding over her shoulder and squeezing briefly in a silent apology, hoping it will be enough to fix things.
The probability of this mystery guy being the love of her life was low, but Chris seemed to feel bad enough to give in, exhaling deeply. Seohyun’s track record wasn’t great – for some reason, she always fell for emotionally unavailable guys, with her latest situationship ending not too long ago once she realized Mark did not want anything serious.
She didn’t deserve all that. Seohyun was the sweetest, kindest person you knew, with a heart of gold. If anyone deserved to find true love and grow old with rosy cheeks, still feeling butterflies at the mention of her beloved’s name no matter how many years passed, it was her. And you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make that happen.
“Let’s find this pretty boy of yours.” You smile as Chris nods, enjoying the way her face gradually lights up.
“Really?”
“I’d feel like I kicked a puppy while it was down if I didn’t, so what the hell. We’ve done crazier things anyways.” Chris adds and she squeals, getting out of the booth to come over and hug him, suddenly excited.
“Oh!” She rushes back to her seat, instantly rummaging through her bag. “This is his. I think it got mixed up with my books when I dropped them. He was in a hurry.”
The three of you huddle together as she places a small notebook on the table, curious about its contents that might reveal the identity of Seohyun’s prospective new…something. Let’s hope boyfriend, and nobody that treats her less than that.
Chris is the one who dares open it, flipping through the pages in wonder.
“These are…recipes?” He blinks, drawing a blank as the measurements for the perfect ‘gooey brownies’ stare him right in the face.
None of you says anything for a moment, the gears in your head turning and working simultaneously before Jisung breaks the silence with an unexpected outburst.
“Oh my god, he’s a fucking loser!”
Safe to say, he got smacked a couple more times before your next class of the day. Lovingly, of course.
︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
With everyone promising to ask around for Seohyun’s prince charming, you go on with your day until your last class, when you established to meet again for a little get together with all of your other friends.
The sun was starting to set, casting a warm, golden hue that extended throughout the whole campus, creating mesmerizing surroundings you could barely look away from. Thankfully by now, you’re outside, enjoying the warm breeze and nice weather that might not return any time soon as the days will only continue to get shorter and shorter as time passes.
You’re currently near the football field, cutting through near the bleachers to get to the other side where Chris and his swimming team are currently meeting. Seohyun is skipping a few feet in front of you, obviously in good spirits.
“Didn’t know Chris needed a chaperone.” She teases, turning to you with a smile as she starts walking backwards.
You chuckle. “Well, he is our ride.”
“We could have walked.” She stretches her arms as if to prove a point. “It’s such a beautiful day! It’s a shame we have to miss out on the rest of it, too.”
You were on your way to a bar, a new one that opened all the way in Hongdae. The owner has invited 3racha, Chris and Jisung’s music group personally, so it would be rude to not show up, even if you did share her sentiment. If it were up to you, you’d be in bed, snuggling already, but your friends have made it a point to keep you out of the house as much as possible.
“Just say thank you, Seohyun.”
“Thank you, Seohyun, for being the hottest girl around!”
You both laugh, enjoying each other’s company before she turns back around and resumes her skipping, long, bleached hair flowing freely behind her in the prettiest way. As you reach for your phone to record her for memories, a speck of red gets your attention in an instant.
You keep walking but your eyes are glued to the field now, to the eight or so guys dressed in the white and red uniform of your university’s American football team. Your heart rate picks up in an instant, scanning their jersey numbers in a hurry.
Relief floods your system when you don’t find what you’re looking for, slowing down. These guys looked young, most likely freshmen trying out for a spot in the most famous football team your university has had in years. You didn’t know how that worked, your memory failed you as you tried to remember when tryouts took place. It seemed a little too early for all that though, too soon to be looking for new people when the season kicked off somewhere in October, a good month and a half away. You couldn’t help but wonder why the hurry.
“Y/n! Watch out!”
Seohyun’s screaming startles you out of your thoughts, your eyes coming into focus to see a football flying right in your direction, quickly approaching your head. Before you know it, you’re ducking and running, feeling bad for snoozing and interfering with practice. Of course, this had to happen, you were cursed after all. You could never be near a sports field without something hitting you, no matter how small or insignificant the object, it always had to make contact with your face.
However, you don’t make it very far before you come to an abrupt stop as you collide with something or better said, someone, the impact causing you to stumble a few steps back until rough, gloved hands stabilize you by the shoulders.
When you regain your footing and finally look up at your saviour, your heart actually stops.
Because the one looking back, right through you is none other than Hyunjin. Your Hyunjin.
Or actually, he wasn’t yours anymore, now, was he?
Hyunjin who’s written his name across your heart in golden letters, that suddenly lit up at the mere sight of him. Your ex-boyfriend looked almost unrecognizable, his short black hair replaced by long, bleached locks that were pushed back, away from his face in a little ponytail.
You were a fool to think he wouldn’t be here. He was the captain after all and the coach was nowhere in sight.
The air wasn’t entering your lungs anymore, yet somehow you were still breathing, being kept afloat by his familiar hands on your skin, so overly conscious of his touch that you barely registered the shiver running down your spine.
After three months apart with no communication, Hyunjin was finally looking at you, forced to acknowledge your presence. It felt a little surreal, bumping into him so soon. Sure, you were expecting it, but not on your very first day back to campus, not when you still haven’t processed the fact that you weren’t together anymore. Everything in you longed for him and all his endearing quirks, even after all this time; even after he broke your heart.
You don’t dare look away, and neither does he, enthralled by those beautiful eyes of his that used to watch your every move with so much love and care. Now, you don’t see any of these emotions, but there is an intensity to his gaze that you can’t quite put your finger on. Time always seemed to come to a stop when you were with him and right now it was no different. All of your surroundings faded, leaving him the sole object of your attention.
There was a new piercing adorning his face, right under his bleached eyebrow. It looked good, like everything he deemed worthy enough to leave a mark on his body. But that wasn’t what got your heart beating again, pounding against your ribcage at an alarming pace he was sure to hear even from afar.
Without looking away, his hands slide down your arms slowly, and for a brief moment, you think they’re going to find solace in yours, just like they’ve done for all these years. By the surprise flickering in his eyes, you believe he thought of the same thing, catching himself at the last second and taking a step back, arms falling to his side heavily.
“Yo, what the fuck was that?” A new voice has you both snapping out of it, finally allowing you to look away and escape the staring war neither had the resources to win. It’s familiar, and as someone stops right by your side, seemingly out of nowhere, there’s no doubt in your mind about his identity.
“Y/n, are you okay?
You blink, and the magic from before finally dissipates completely, almost like the spell Hyunjin has got you under broke the moment he made himself busy by reaching for his helmet on the ground. When you manage to tear your eyes from him, Yeonjun, one of his friends and teammates, comes into view and places a hand on your shoulder in concern. The ball that almost collided with your head is under his other arm, and you notice that he’s not wearing his gloves as he should be.
Eventually, you nod, looking straight into his eyes while mustering your most convincing smile. “Yeah, don’t worry. Nothing even happened.”
“It almost did.” He states, glaring towards the group of men who seemed glued on the spot. “If it weren’t for Hyunjin, things might have ended badly.”
You look away, not knowing how to act around them anymore. Hyunjin doesn’t respond either, just moves out of the way as Seohyun sprints to your rescue, pulling your body into the tightest hug and putting some distance between you and the two men.
“Are you okay? You’re not hurt anywhere, right?” She’s instantly checking you all over, dusting invisible dirt off your clothes before patting your head lovingly, just like a mother would do to comfort her sobbing child. Truthfully speaking, you weren’t far from turning into one, but the mortification of bursting into tears in front of all these people kept your emotions in check. You reckon a football to the face would have hurt less than having Hyunjin treat you like a stranger he’s meeting for the first time, barely reacting to your sudden appearance.
In hindsight, him reacting differently was almost impossible. Especially in the way you’d want him to react. Hyunjin had changed right before your very eyes in the last months before your relationship ended, burying his sweet and sensitive nature so deep down that you feared it might have gotten erased permanently.
Grasping her hands, you nod to calm her racing mind. “I’m fine, mom.” Then, you turn to Yeonjun again. “Sorry for interrupting practice like that. I should have been more careful.”
You hear Hyunjin scoff from somewhere behind you, still not brave enough to show his face, while Yeonjun shakes his head vehemently. “Nonsense. You did nothing wrong. Those guys though? They did plenty.”
He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before excusing himself to join said guys, voice loud and annoyed. “Who were you passing that to? Are you fucking blind or just stupid?”
Yeonjun had no authority over them, not like Hyunjin did anyway. But he was still a seasoned player, one that’s been with the team for two years, so his words carried significant weight. He was a year older than all of you yet only decided to give football a chance in his second year, joining the team at the same time as Hyunjin. Their roles on the team were the opposite of each other – while Hyunjin was on the offensive, Yeonjun was a defensive player in charge of keeping the other team as far away as possible. Yet, they clicked and worked so well together that the probability of SNU losing a game with both of them present was close to none.
Bonding outside the field proved just as easy and before you knew it, Yeonjun became one of Hyunjin’s treasured friends, bringing their envied teamwork to more events than necessary.
For these guys to have a chance before the coach, they first needed to impress these two. And one thing about Hyunjin was that he was very hard to impress, especially in the areas he excelled in.
Your eyes naturally gravitate towards him along with your thoughts, his magnetic field still as strong as always. To your utter surprise, he moved to stand a little further away, facing his potential new teammates.
“Who threw that?”
The sound of his voice alone is enough to overwhelm you, suddenly way too emotional to keep still, to manage to keep your cool and act as nonchalant as he was. You haven’t heard that voice in so long, you’re sure you’d have collapsed if he as much as uttered your name.
Your name on his tongue has always been your favorite sound, no other word ever coming close to having that same effect.
Sheepishly, one of the guys steps forward while rubbing the back of their necks, visibly taken aback by the coldness in Hyunjin’s voice.
Hyunjin’s eyes narrow just as Seohyun links her arm through yours and tugs your body closer.
“Apologize.”
“Yes, captain!” He nods instantly, bowing repeatedly in Hyunjin’s direction to show exactly how sorry he feels for disappointing him. “I’m –“
“Not to me.” Hyunjin crosses his arms over wide chest, shoulder blade plates making him look even more intimidating as he stands to his full height, rolling his eyes. “To her.”
Your eyes widen as the guy looks up, searching for you with confusion visible even through his big helmet. Hesitantly, he changes targets, stopping before you and Seohyun.
“Hyunjin – “ You manage to squeak out, hating the way your voice almost gets caught in your throat, heat rushing to your face.
“Let him apologize.” His gaze travels to you leisurely, impatience clear in usual doe eyes.
But you aren’t far behind, a little annoyed by his insistence, managing to pull yourself together to counter. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“And last I checked, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” As quick-witted as always, Hyunjin isn’t even looking at you anymore, not bothering to react in any other way, like you weren’t even worth getting annoyed at. “He made a mistake that under normal circumstances, could have cost us the game. He needs to own up to it and apologize not only to you but to his teammates as well.”
Then, the guy seems to get smaller under his sharp gaze, instantly dropping into a deep bow and obeying Hyunjin’s words to a T. “I’m so sorry for throwing the ball in your direction!” In the next second, he’s spinning around and bowing to the other guys as Seohyun struggles to keep in her laughter at his next words. “I’m sorry for being an idiot!”
To his credit, Hyunjin hasn’t addressed him as such, always one to keep things professional. Yet, you notice the slight twitch of his mouth, obviously pleased and amused as Yeonjun bursts out laughing.
The guys bow in return, and suddenly they’re all shouting apologies at each other, owning up to all of the little mistakes they’ve made up until now that might’ve inconvenienced the other in some way, feeling bad for possibly giving anyone a hard time.
Not being able to hold it in anymore, your best friend almost collapses from laughter, needing to walk it off to calm down, only to start again as she locks eyes with Yeonjun a little farther away.
You’re so taken aback that you don’t even know how to react, watching the scene before you as flabbergasted as one could get. It was wholesome to see these kids already acting like a team but a part of you couldn’t help but feel bad once it remembered none might actually get to play and represent their university on the field. Hyunjin was trying to instil some discipline into them, but at what cost? What was the point?
Just as you’re contemplating everything that happened, the eight guys suddenly stop and turn to bow in Hyunjin’s direction as well, apologizing at the same time like it’s an activity they’ve rehearsed beforehand. It gets quiet as they wait for an answer, not even daring to raise their heads and see Hyunjin’s reaction, just patiently waiting for the go ahead so they can go back to practice.
Since when was Hyunjin running this team like the fucking marines?
Despite not looking at him, when Hyunjin nods they all stand to their full heights before him, awaiting further instructions. The mood shifts, all tense and serious like they weren’t sweet and wholesome just a moment ago.
“Since none of you seem able to handle one of these yet,” he barely finishes his sentence before Yeonjun passes him the ball, catching it with ease to hold up for the others to see. It all happened so quickly and naturally, that the others most likely didn’t notice, but you did. Hyunjin isn’t using his dominant hand. “you’ll be running laps until the coach gets here. Whoever is not up for it, drop your gears – you’re out.”
You’re expecting complaints and groans in protest but instead, they all nod and succumb to their miserable fates, doing exactly what Hyunjin has instructed. A little further away, you notice Yeonjun laughing without shame, having a blast at their expense.
“Asshole.” Seohyun murmurs, rolling her eyes, and you’re unsure who she’s talking about. “Let’s go. Any more time and Chris will send his speedo wearing army out in the wild to look for us.”
You want to laugh, to agree, and turn your back on this incident and leave without a word. But you can’t, feet lodged into place like you were standing on the biggest patch of mud around.
Hyunjin’s back was already to you, form cladded in that familiar uniform you’ve felt under your fingertips for years. The 20 under his surname written in capital letters on his jersey were almost mocking you, mad for holding their twin hostage in your mess of a closet. It doesn’t matter – in a month or so, they’ll be replaced in favour of a new design that comes around every new season. Just like your presence in his life will inevitably be filled by someone else; someone better, capable of loving him at his worst.
You had so much to say, so many words eager to escape and latch onto him, to get his attention and feed from it, growing bolder and more desperate with every second spent by his side. Hyunjin always brought the best out of you – until he broke things off. Then everything just came to a stop. Like someone lifted the stylus off of a vinyl before the song got the chance to come to an end, damaging the record and your ears in the process.
You loved music but suddenly, your life was quiet.
Hyunjin has been your muse for the entirety of your relationship, all of your songs based on him and the love that managed to blossom thanks to your shared effort. The butterflies and the fireworks all faded without a trace, making your music sound bland and meaningless, off-key since the one who inspired it was no longer there.
You wanted to call out his name, get him to stop and not leave you behind again but you didn’t know how, unable to without bursting into tears and breaking down for everyone to see. Hyunjin has been a part of your life for so many years, how were you ever supposed to start acting like he never was? Erasing him and the mark he left would surely be impossible without a potion of sorts, some Eternal Sunshine mechanism that will ensure your brain will be tricked into believing he was never here, to begin with.
Seohyun is off to the side, giving you the space needed to put your thoughts in order, for your next move. This was your chance, the moment you’ve been waiting for.
But you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t run after him no matter how loudly your heart was screaming in protest.
So, you turn around and latch onto your best friend as she begins pulling you along, quick to come to your rescue as always. Struggling to keep it together, with tears welling up in your eyes, you miss the way he turns to look in your direction one more time. One last time.
You’ve always believed Hyunjin was the love of your life, the one you’d grow old holding hands with.
Now, your perspective has changed, as did the main character role he has played in your story for the past five years. No longer was he the charming male lead, the prince coming in on a white horse to swoop you off your feet in a grand gesture of romance.
Hyunjin was the loss of your life. The one that managed to get away even with the tight grip you’ve tried to keep on his heart.
Hyunjin transformed into a background character that won’t be there for the ride, and won’t get to witness the new developments happening from now on in your life.
You would have rather been the one written off the story if it meant keeping him. Unfortunately, that was not a possibility since without you, there wouldn’t be a story to begin with.
︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#hwang hyunjin x you#hwang hyujin imagines#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin angst#hyunjin series#hyunjin scenarios#hwang hyunjin fluff#skz series#skz angst#skz fluff#skz fanfic#stray kids imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#stray kids x you#skz x you
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You’re all I want
joost klein x fem!reader
description: Joost and reader experience the hardships of a relationship, until their biggest fight yet— which is resolved by some much needed make-up sex
word count: 2.7k
warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut; f!receiving oral, protected piv,
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The moonlight creeps in through the window, your only source of light in the dark room. Not that you needed much light anyways; for the past twenty minutes you’ve been staring at the wall across from you, your thoughts filling the emptiness. All the hurtful words Joost said, all the blame he put on you; all the things you said to him, things that you didn’t mean but in the heat of the moment, didn’t care to think twice about them— it’s all there, eating you alive, digging holes into your heart.
Deep down, you know this fight was bound to happen at some point, it had to. Joost working endlessly from day to night for the past month, being gone for hours, along with your already packed schedule that never seemed to overlap with his— it had definitely created a certain tension in the air. If you were lucky enough, you’d only see him in the early mornings and late at night. Naturally, all the pressure, all your worries, the exhaustion of it all would lead you both to take it out on each other— you didn’t mean to, but after a long day, every little thing seemed to irritate you, before it turned into yet another fight.
But this— this had been your biggest fight yet. It had started out as per usual, one of you complaining about something you can’t even remember now, before in a matter of minutes, it had turned into a meaningless competition about who “works more” , who’s “more tired”, who “cares more” about the other one; it was so meaningless but so hurtful at the same time. Joost’s voice still lingers in your mind, the heavy silence in the room after he accused you of not caring about him, of not loving him. Then of course, all the awful things you said in return, trying to fix things by defending yourself but making them worse in the heat of the moment.
Joost eventually left; presumably off to the balcony to smoke a cigarette like he always does when he’s stressed out or mad. Usually, you’d leave him be and ask him about it later but now… now you know exactly why he’s upset, and to realize that you’re the reason for it makes your chest hurt. Your eyes start getting watery again as you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, when you hear a knock at the bedroom door; you don’t bother to reply, already knowing who’s the one knocking.
The door opens reluctantly, the yellowish light of the hallway peeking into the room as Joost steps in, in his grey sweatpants, the graphic hoodie you’d gotten him for his birthday that probably carries the scent of his camels now.
He stands by the door for a second, “Were you sitting in the dark this whole time?” His voice is calmer than before, strangely comforting even after everything.
You ignore his question, turning your head to gaze at the cloudy night sky out the window. Hearing him walk over to you, the bed sinking as he sits down facing you. He opens the bedside lamp with a faint click noise, painting the room in a dim yellow light.
You feel Joost caressing your thigh, immediately drawing your gaze back to him,
“You know I didn’t mean those things, right?” He gives you a weak smile, a hint of regret hidden in his eyes.
You sigh, “I don’t know. Did you?” You try to make your voice firm, but the sadness is obviously there, indicating that you’ve been crying.
“No,” He shakes his head repeatedly, as if he’s scolding himself. “No, of course not liefde,” Liefde. At least, he still calls you that— hadn’t heard it from him in what feels like forever.
You stare at him, images from your argument flashing through your mind; all the things you called him, asshole, douchebag, selfish, ungrateful— but at the end of the day, he’s still your Joost, walking into your bedroom to apologize, like a kid asking their parents to sleep in bed with them.
You purse your lips, attempting to hide the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Okay. I believe you,”
Joost also smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he hugs you. You wrap an arm around him, stroking his back, allowing yourself to melt into his touch. “I’m sorry,” He mumbles, his lips grazing your ear as he caresses your hair, leaving another kiss to your temple.
You smile, letting out a dry chuckle. “It’s okay. I wasn’t any better either,”
His kisses don’t stop, but rather his lips wander off to your cheek, then lower to your jaw, before he’s fully kissing you again. You kiss him back slowly— it feels somewhat different, in a good way; like all the doubts and fears have left and the only thing present is pure love, just you and the Joost you fell in love with, his lips on yours.
He pulls back shortly after, leaving you to take a deep breath. “Lie down for me baby,” His tone is soft, yet compelling and you can’t help but do as he says, wordlessly leaning back onto the pillow. He slightly hovers over you, takes his shirt off in a quick motion as you stare up at him; perfection, that’s what he is to you. And it hurts to think that he doesn’t realize how much you love him, and how precious he, and this relationship is to you.
“You’re so pretty,” You say as your fingers stroke his hairy chest.
He chuckles, a shy smile gracing his lips. “Not as pretty as you,” He leans lower to kiss you, propping himself up on one hand, burying himself in your neck. There, he kisses you more, open-mouthed kisses and soft bites on your skin that are sure to stain your neck with hickeys. You sigh in pleasure, opening your legs to give him more space. Joost wastes no time as he adjusts himself atop you, until his crotch is right above yours. You can feel him through his sweatpants, his hard-on evident even over the soft fabric of your pajama shorts. Breathing deeply when the tip of his cock brushes against your crotch, an action than repeats itself, causing you both to let out a mixture of sounds that fill the room.
“Missed this,” Joost mumbles, his lips still roaming around your neck. “Missed hearing you like this,”
“I know,” You breathe out. If only he could hear your thoughts right now; he’d see how much of a toll this situation had taken on you, having him be so close to you but so far at the same time.
You feel his cock twitch, the sensation coaxing a sharp breath out of you. He raises your shirt up to your collarbones, cupping your boobs in his soft hands; his touch makes you dizzy, the way he handles your body. Wet kisses on your pulse, your moans getting louder and harder to suppress with each thrust of his body.
“Fuck,” He laughs against your neck, “Need you,” He draws back from your neck to look at you; you probably look like a dumb puppy looking up at him, unable to suppress your smile— you really did miss him that much, and now it feels so good having him this close again, almost like it’s not real.
“What?” You laugh.
“Have I told you how pretty you look today?”
A sudden heat rushes through you, a pinkish color spreading across your face. “Nah, you were too busy fighting with me for that,” You tease.
He laughs, “Fuck you,”
“That’s what I’m waiting for,” You protest.
Joost clicks his tongue before he finally pushes himself back up, now stabilizing himself on his knees on the mattress, “You horny woman,” He chastises, shaking his head in feigned disapproval as he begins to take off his sweatpants.
You stare at him wordlessly, only a soft smile lingering on your lips. He’s breathing heavily as he lowers his grey sweatpants down to his knees, before he does the same thing with this his boxers, his cock springing free.
He pats your thigh, “Let’s take these off,” You slightly lift yourself up so that Joost can slip your pajama shorts off, tossing them somewhere on the floor. Your panties feel wet, momentarily sticking to your skin as he begins to lower them down your legs, and suddenly, you’re both so exposed, yet so comfortable in each other’s presence.
“The most beautiful body,” Joost coos, a smirk tugging at his lips as he places a kiss to your belly. “And face of course,” Another kiss to your cheek.
“Oh please,” You scoff at the cheesiness, despite how much you secretly love it when he gets like this.
Joost chuckles, parting your legs a little more. He presses two fingers on your clit, gently rubbing it in circles, causing your breath to hitch. Smirking to himself as he nuzzles his face against your thighs, his hot breath on your pussy.
You take a look, the mere image of Joost snuggled up between your legs enough for you to abandon any hesitation or grudge against him.
You tousle his hair, fingers entangled between his blonde locks. His tongue teases your clit, your legs jerking at the tingling sensation before Joost hooks his arms around them, keeping them parted and steady.
“Relax,” His deep voice vibrates through your core, and you sigh; relax? Was that even possible in this scenario? Weeks of fighting, of not touching each other, and you’re supposed to relax? You feel so vulnerable, so sensitive that even a soft kiss to your clit is enough to make you squirm under him.
“Go on,” You say, your voice whiny.
A smirk tugs at his lips; you feel his tongue delve inside you, gently at first before his lips fully envelop your pussy; you watch as Joost eats you out, keeping his eyes locked in yours the entire time. Your moans get louder, quicker before you’re full-on whimpering with the way he handles you.
You tug at his hair strands, too drawn by your own pleasure to apologize for possibly hurting him. Your legs begin to shake, squeezing Joost’s head even tighter, back arching at the overstimulation; you’re close, so close actually that before you can even say anything to him, you reach your orgasm with a loud yelp. Joost persists, the lingering sensation of his mouth on you making your brain go numb.
He hums against your pussy, lapping it with his tongue one final time before he pulls back, lips glossy and his cheeks a vibrant pink; he smiles, blue eyes lighting up at the sight of you, blissed out, trying to catch your breath. Smiling because he’s the only one who can make you feel like this, bring those sweet sounds out of you, make you feel so good even after breaking your heart.
He sits his face on your stomach; now he’s the one who looks like a puppy. You chuckle, furrowing your brows,
“What is it,”
Joost’s eyes flicker to your boobs, then to your face again as he groans. “I need to fuck you,”
“So romantic,”
“Always,” He rises up from his position, reaching over to the bedside table, in hopes to find a condom in one of the drawers; lucky for you both, there’s a last one in there, tossed between other things. Joost takes the condom, using his teeth to tear the wrapper open before he slips it on.
You once again bend your knees, a new wave of arousal washing over you at the thought of what’s to come.
Joost grabs the base of his cock as he comes forward, lining himself up with your entrance, not before he swipes his shaft over your folds in a quick motion, earning a small moan from you.
“Ready?” He asks in a soft voice, thoughtful of your sensitivity.
“Yeah,”
With that, he pushes himself inside of you at a slow speed. You gasp, your back arching as his cock moves further into your core.
“Feels so good already,” His tone is low, breathy, it makes your head dizzy. He once again slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is teasing your hole, before he sinks into you at an unprompted speed that draws a sharp moan out of both of you.
He continues the pattern, sweet nothings muttered in between each deep thrust. You can’t help the choked sobs that fall from your lips as he fucks you so perfectly, with so much care and love behind his strong grasp on your waist. One of his hands reaches up to cup your boob, softly playing with it as leans forward to press a kiss to your jaw. He feels sweaty, his shallow breaths hot against your skin.
You hear him mumble something incoherent from between your neck, slightly straining your neck to look at him. “Huh?”
He raises his head a little, propping himself up on his hands so that he’s able to look down at you,
“I love you,” He says, gritting his teeth as he picks up the pace, “I’m sorry liefde,” Guilt lingering on his voice.
You smile, “Joost it’s- it’s okay,” You breathe out, hardly getting the words out with how fast he’s thrusting his cock into you; if his words weren’t so sweet, you’d think he was mad at you given his unforgiving pace. “It’s over now,” You reassure him, kissing him sloppily.
“My baby, I love you so much,” He says in your ear, his voice strained. You embrace him, not caring about how suffocating his heavy body feels atop you. The room feels even hotter than before, the air sticking to your body like a magnet.
“Fuck Joost,” You blurt out, a loud cry slipping from your lips as he hits the most perfect spot inside of you, your climax unmistakably close. “I love you- too,”
Joost’s cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppier, “Yeah? Say it again baby,”
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” You repeat as you’re hit with a sudden wave of pleasure, erupting in loud moans. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting yourself ride out your high, incoherent words expressing all the love for him along the way.
Joost is breathing heavily against your neck, groaning as he uses every last bit of energy to push himself into you, the dirty sound of slapping skin filling the room. At last, he comes inside of you, his drawn out, breathy moan ringing in your ears.
He pulls out of you, before returning to hugging you. Your strenuous breaths fill the silence of the room, as you drink in your afterglow. You take this moment to cuddle him, your chin touching his hair as he lays his head on your chest, taking a moment to think.
“I’m so lucky to have you,”
A smile graces your lips, “Me too,” Playing with his hair as he plants soft kisses along your collarbone. “Please, let’s not let it get this bad again,” You whisper, caressing his cheek.
He nods, smiling softly. “Okay,” Letting his head rest on your chest again as you drown in your thoughts.
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tysm for readinggahhhsg… this is honestly not the best thing I’ve written, but its okay 🧘♀️🧘♀️ looking back at this now, i feel like the smut should have been longer ughhh
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A little drabble I wrote after some inspiration and a little break between drawing some art <3
I just wanted to experiment and see how an interaction like this would go between them. It was supposed to be angst but I couldn't help changing it a bit. >3<
Please let me know if I did the couch potato justice @zu-is-here and if there's anything else I could've done better!
“Aim…” Axel mumbled, looking as if he were ready to crumble or disappear from the anxiety in his soul. It formed a painful lump, making his words struggle to come out properly. But under all that was the undying love and trust of the man before him. In all his unconditional love there was still part of him that needed to know, it needed to know that Aim was truly there, and that he was his, no matter how murky the waters they swam in were. Of course it was a silly question though. He knew that answer well enough. Aim was his, but…was Axel himself Aim's?
“...I need you, Aim.” His voice finally managed to say. “...But I don't know if you need me.” He admitted quietly, his voice suddenly breaking.
Aim, sitting on the other side of the bed, turned to look at the distressed skeleton, offering him a look of comfort with some sort of humor attached to it. “What do ya mean? Of course I need you.” He said, sounding slightly surprised by how the shorter skeleton only seemed to look sadder at his reply.
“...No- just- ugh! You don't understand!” Axel cried out as he sat on the opposite side of the bed. “You seemed so fine before I came back to find you. Part of me wonders if I'm being selfish by asking so much of you. You don't owe me your companionship. But…but I want it, I crave it, and I crave you.” He said, looking frustrated.
“...Heh, you have no idea how nice it is having you around.” Aim said, laying back on the mattress, his arms resting above his head. That response made Axel look at him with surprise.
“If anything I probably need you more. I mean, I must've been really stuck in your head to make you come back after so long. Like a rattle in your skull?” He said in a lighthearted tone, watching Axel's face flush as he looked away.
“Hm…something like that.” Axel said quietly.
“This whole thing between us isn't bad. You've already done so much for me and-” Aim paused, noticing the little glitter from a tear that streamed down Axel's cheek. Oh no, had he said something wrong?
“You're right. You have been stuck in my head forever, and you have no idea how great it was to see you again, but…I don't want to push my feelings on you like this.” Axel said quietly, letting out a little laugh through a few sobs.
“Stars…oh stars…how are we going to make this work?” He said meekly, voice full of raw vulnerability and sorrow. His soul fluttered intensely in his chest any time he laid eyes on the man before him, couch-potato and lazy-bones aside.
“Axel, you're crying-” Aim tried, sitting up.
“Of course I am…this is never going to work!” Axel cried out, trying to wipe his tears away. “I can't even kiss you-”
“You can.” Aim replied.
“...what?” Axel said, lifting his head up to look at him, surprised by his answer. Aim looked at him with a more genuine smile. “Is that why you are so upset? Are you afraid to ask me for a hug or a kiss?” The larger skeleton asked with a little grin.
“I might not get it, but we're a team. One member just can't pull all the weight, I'm too heavy for you to be carrying all the weight of us. I can try my best for you if it will make you happy, just ask. There's nothing wrong giving back to my ‘partner’, eh?” Aim grinned, winking under his goggles.
Axel stared, the glitchy skeletons gaze was less upset, and more just shocked and moved by his words. “...you'd…you'd do that for me? Aim please…your boundaries, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.” He said gently, trying to be careful with his wording.
“Oi! I don't mind as long as you're happy by the end of it, I gotta keep the hand who feeds me happy, don't i?~”
Axel rolled his eyes, sighing. He wiped the tears from his eyes, taking in a steady breath to calm himself. “Well…” he said, moving closer to Aim, their bodies close in contact.
“...I've always wanted to see you without your goggles. The real you. I miss your beautiful eye lights. Please…let me see you.” Axel whispered, shifting his potion, sitting right in front of Aim as he reached out to the ever important goggles that hid Aim's orange eyelights.
Aim seemed to hesitate, looking unsure as Axel grabbed the edges of his goggles with care. “Heh…they really haven't changed much.” He said, struggling to keep the smile on his face. “Are you sure it's worth your time?” The larger skeleton asked.
Axel frowned, lifting his goggles above his head gently. “...I'm sure.” He said firmly, cupping Aim's face with his hands, lifting himself up and settling amongst his partner's lap. He moved his face closer to Aim's, a small smile of appreciation and adoration flashing across his face. He was warm, very warm, and the way his eyelights stared back at him caused Axel's soul to flutter intensely with delight.
He leaned it, pressing his nose against Aim's, an affection nuzzle. “...Is this okay?” He asked after a few tense moments of silence, staring into Aim's face. The other skeleton seemed quite relaxed, his eye lights faintly illuminating the space between them like a dim light, a small light compared to the blue hue spread across Axel's face.
“Of course.” Aim said calmly, “...you know, you're actually pretty light, heh.” He teased.
“Feeling better?” Aim asked for a few moments, the warmth between them being pleasant, like a warm blanket on a cold day. Axel hesitated, his hands resting on Aim's chest as he let them go from his face.
“...May I kiss you?” Axel asked, before stopping to think for a second. “-and more?” He asked with an added huskiness to his voice, his soul beating heavily against his ribcage in a flurry of emotions.
“Sure.” Aim said simply, leaning back. His simple response caught Axel off guard. Stars, did he really trust him that much? Axel looked starstruck, staring at Aim with sparkling eyes full of a swirl of positive emotions, the tears on his face long dry.
Aim noticed, looking a little concerned, “You alright-?” He questioned, before he was cut off, his words swallowed up as Axel leaned in, pressing their mouths together in a soft, delicate motion. Axel held himself there for several moments, his breath held as he made contact with Aim, a warmth spreading over him, and a warmth he missed once he pulled away.
His voice came out in a soft tone, full of emotion.
“....Everything is fine.”
#undertale au#utmv#sanscest#oc#ari writing#errorink ship child#axel#post dark cream#aim!sans#aimel#back to work! ^3^#what if#just some fun experimentation :3#their relationship is so complicated#but they're there for each other <3#teamwork!!
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In death's arms
Pairing: Annatar/Sauron x fem!maia! reader Summary: There was nothing Sauron regretted doing. Every nasty thing he did to gain power paid off for him, and given the choice again, he would do it all over again. Or so he thought, until his path was crossed with someone from his past. It turns out that some of his mistakes are destined to haunt him forever. Author's note: A little sth that stuck in my head after watching Agatha All Along... this is pure fiction and probably wouldn't work in Middle-earth, but since I've written it... 😅 I've been completely out of it lately and everything's been going so fast in my life lately, so I'm terribly sorry if I've missed any messages/comments from you! I'm trying to catch up slowly! Anyway, enjoy! Halbrand's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
“Have you come to torment me again?” He asks, gathering the last of his strength to mock you as you appear before him.
From the nasty grin you give him, instead of being angry at his mockery, he realises how bad a state he is in. Morgoth has just put him through one of his tests. Sauron no longer remembers what he had to do. But he remembers his master's anger when he failed. He remembers clearly every cut he inflicted on him, every wound, every spilt blood that stained his skin and clothes, or at least the shreds that remained of them.
He no longer counted how much of his blood had soaked into his clothes and how much into the stone floor and wall behind him. And the seemingly irritating digging of the bars into his neck and skin stopped bothering him as the metal and his body became one.
"Contrary to appearances, your new master is not willing enough to hand you over to me. Too bad. You'd look pretty in your grave, Mairon. Oh, forgive me. Old habits die hard, Sauron."
He trembles when you speak his true name. The name given to him by the Valar. It sounds both sweet and deadly on your lips. A reminder of what he has lost, of what he could have had, had his lust for power been kept in check, had he never left the forge…
"He needs me. He knows that only I can lead his army to the victory."
"Victory, death. What's the difference, right?" You reply with a smirk that sends an unpleasant shiver down his spine.
He feels... uneasy around you. It wasn't something he was used to. Your presence always brought him some kind of comfort and peace, but now... now everything was different. He and you had changed. Not necessarily for the better.
"I suppose it makes no difference to you whether you take me in a dungeon or on a battlefield."
"But your honour wouldn't allow you to be beneath me, would it, my sweet deceiver?" You mock him and laugh, which sends a cold, unpleasant shiver down his spine.
Your laughter is so different from the one he remembers. It is bleak and harsh as the blade he once forged for you, and which you now carry at your side.
He remembered loving to bask in the glow of your laughter, in the halls of the Valar, as you feasted and danced, living as carefree a life as could be. Sometimes he longed for those days... to spend another one like this, so that he could engrave it forever in his memory and cling to it to save himself from total corruption and rottenness.
"Why do you keep showing up? You know that you can't get your claws on me."
"I am aware about that. But every moment like this will only sweeten the day when I finally take you in my arms, my dear deceiver. And believe me... you will not escape once I finally get my hands on you. In the end, all paths lead to one person. And it is not Morgoth. It is not any of your Valar. It is not any being that you know. In the end, you will come to me. And you will suffer more than Morgoth ever made you do, my Dark Lord."
You press your lips to his forehead—the place where Morgoth smashed his skull into the wall and split his head. He trembles as your lips press against raw, bleeding skin. You groan, running your tongue over his wound, tasting his black blood. And he cries out as you send waves of pain through him worse than any Morgoth had inflicted on him.
He holds his breath as your other hand lazily caresses the skin of his arm, tracing patterns with your black nails, only to suddenly dig them into the open wounds Morgoth had inflicted on him. Sauron groans in pain, trembling in your arms. You press your lips to his, drinking in his every cry as you caress him with your gentle touch and send waves of pain shooting through every tiny particle of his body.
"I will drink in every one of your sweet screams, my dearest. I will bask in every pain your being feels. Until all you remember, all you know, is me and my blade." You whisper your promise, and as suddenly as you came, you disappeared.
You leave him trembling and crying on the cold stone floor, dirty with his blood. And though he hated the times you came to mock him, he was relieved that you didn't leave him completely alone. Even if you only came to drive the knives Morgoth had placed inside him deeper.
He needed you. As pathetic as it was, he needed those little moments with you to keep him from going completely crazy during his darkest hours and the tests his master put him through.
But he lived with the hope that one day he would be able to repay you with the same sweet torture. That one day he would be the one to listen to your sighs of pain... or cries of pleasure. He wasn't sure yet whether he loved or hated you more—even though you seemed to already have your mind set about your feelings towards him.
Adar has betrayed him. He has betrayed him in the worst possible way. Sauron lies on the floor, surrounded by Orcs who drive the blades of Morgoth's crown into him as their Lord-Father looks on passively.
This couldn't be the end. He couldn't end like this. He couldn't be defeated like Morgoth had been, not by the filthy stinking Orcs and someone he had considered a friend. His master had been right; if they didn't fear you, you were nothing to them. There was no ally so powerful, so loyal, and true as fear. And now he was learning his lesson once again. In the most painful way possible.
He took small, ragged breaths that burned his body every time his lungs tried to expand and draw in air. Blood dripped from almost every inch of his body. And suddenly, in the distance, a few feet from those nasty orcs, he sees you.
You watch his fall with complete calm. You play carelessly with the blade he gave you, waiting for his end, letting the orcs finish their work. He sees no emotion on your face. Ironic, considering that this is probably the best day of your life. He will finally get his punishment from you. There was nothing he could do to escape you... unless...
He gasps especially hard when one of the orcs plunges a blade into his heart. As if through a haze, he sees Adar above him, who, after making sure that his physical body has been completely destroyed, says something to his orcs. Sauron hears only a screech in his ears as his battered heart gives its last beat. And then there is only darkness. Bleak darkness, which is quickly interrupted by a song all too familiar to him.
"Come, come, my lost soul, you will find your peace. Come, come, down your road, straight into my arms."
Sauron remembers the countless nights after Morgoth's torture, when you sang it to him and mocked him, giving him a taste of what you would do when you could finally take him in your arms.
Once it was a simple lullaby. A lullaby you made up for him when he couldn't calm his mind, when he spent too much time in Aulë's forge, too absorbed in his work to see you. Now you were attracting souls who were about to meet their end.
But he is not ready for death yet. He does not want to go like this. Not when he has known no power, not when the sacrifice he made of himself has brought him nothing at all. He does not want to go into your arms, knowing that he has thrown away everything he had with you for nothing.
"Look where your lust has taken you, my darling." You tell him with a smirk, taking your time as you walk towards him.
He kneels, swaying as he tries to keep his balance. He falls on both hands in front of you, taking in shuddering breaths as the black bonds of your magic close around him, crushing him in a tight embrace.
"I thought you loved my embrace? You told me so. Remember? When we lay together in the halls of the Valar, each held tightly, when you swore to me that you would not yield to Morgoth's influence, that what we have was enough, that you would never dream of more than what we have? Tell me, did you plan to betray me even then, or did you forget your promises in time?"
After each of your mockery comes a blow from you. Sometimes it's a simple kick, sometimes a punch delivered from your fist, and sometimes you pierce his body with a dagger, tormenting him even more and twisting him so that the blade grazes every single muscle of his. You were going for your revenge. And nothing was going to stop you.
"Pathetic. You wanted power. You wanted power so great that millions would kneel before you, and now you are on your knees. You were willing to do anything; you gave up everything just to fulfil your dark desires. Tell me, Sauron, was it worth it? Because I am truly happy with this turn of events."
He gasps as you grab him by the neck, forcing his gaze to meet yours. He trembles, staring into your black, dilated pupils. Your face is nothing like the one he remembers. You look like death. You are the real death. He trembles, seeing what the Vaalr did to you after he left and what punishment they gave you for loving a traitor. He looks away, wanting to momentarily ease his guilt and helplessness, but your tightening grip on his neck won't let him.
"You have no idea how long I've dreamed of this. You have no idea how long I've wanted to tear out every last piece of you just to put you back together and present you to the Valar, to give you into their hands so you could suffer as you should. Do you think that what you became was all your fault? That they wanted to punish us for our love? I asked them to make me something you fear, something you must reckon with. I am what everyone sees at the end; I am what takes everyone, even the mightiest of men. I am the end of Morgoth, the end of all evil, all good, the end of everything. I am death." You growl and throw him across the room.
He groans in pain, but he doesn't try to run away from you anymore. He knows that without his physical form, without any power, he won't hide from you. He was in your world, in the thrall of your power. And if he wanted to somehow escape from your grip, he had to play his cards right.
"I never wanted this for you... I never wanted this for us." He gasps, glancing at you. You walk slowly toward him, your black outfit billowing behind you, giving you an ethereal, trash-like look. As much as he fears you, he yearns to have you by his side. But he's not foolish or naive enough to believe you'll ever be on his side again.
"You left me! You left me to rot in the light of the Valar!! You tore my heart, all my humanity, destroyed everything I was, and left me alone. What did you want then, deceiver? What did you want, if not my absolute destruction, so that the vestiges of my past would not torment you in your greedy quest for power?"
He grunts as you drive your sword through his side. He grabs your hand, the one resting on the hilt, and pulls you toward him. You land on the floor with him, and before you can react, he's straddling you, placing the metal against your neck as he leans over you. His blood decorates your skin as his hand cups your cheek. Any attempts to fight him die inside you as his skin touches yours. You freeze for a moment, unused to someone's touch after so long alone, and he takes advantage of it as much as he can.
"I… I've always wanted… I've dreamed of you standing beside me… as my queen. My equal… I… I would never turn my back on you completely." He mumbles, pressing his nose to your temple. You break your dark vision of death for a moment and show him the face he knew so well, the one he had missed for so long that tears came to his eyes. You kick him in the chest and push him away, trying to regain some control. You reach for your neck and wipe away his blood. Without taking your eyes off him, you lick your fingers clean.
"You would trade me for the power Morgoth had at the first opportunity. You have no heart. You never did. And I was too naive to see you for who you really were." With a flick of your wrist, the bonds around him reappear. His wrists and ankles are bound and he is immobilized as he waits for you to make your final move and take his soul from this world forever.
"I have a heart. As black and rotten as yours. And it beats for you. Always has, always will. Even if you seek to destroy me utterly… even if you are left all alone after you have done your duty to the Valar and taken me into your sweet, hellish embrace." He says, only half-feigning contrition for what he had done.
He loved you. If there was one thing he was certain of about his old life, it was that he had loved you deeply. But not enough to become just another servant of the Valar. He wanted more. He had to have more. If he couldn't have you by his side, he would be content to fight with you. Until death do you part.
"If you loved me, you would never leave me." The slight tremor in your voice gives him hope that this meeting will go as he had hoped.
He lifts his gaze to you, studying you as you stand before him. The dagger in your hand is still a painful reminder of what it could cost him if he doesn't say the right words, but for now all he can think about is how wonderfully terrifying you look, standing before him in all your glory and power.
You captivate him. You tempt him. The Valar knew what they were doing when they made you the Lady of Death. You would be his undoing. He knows it. Eventually he will fall, and there will be no turning back. But before he does... he wants to make sure he remains legendary and eternal.
"It was because I loved you that I had to leave you. I didn't want to taint you with my darkness. You were pure. You were the sweetness that I wanted to drink and destroy at the same time for my own pleasure. You would not have had a better fate with me." He tries to defend himself by touching your most sensitive spot. He sees your ardour slowly subside as you begin to really consider his words.
You hesitate. He can see it in your gaze. He can see that the vision of your dream future he's presented to you is starting to tempt you. If he'd pushed you just a little further, if he'd said a few more words, maybe you'd really join his side? Maybe you'd be a force against the world? Maybe if he hadn't left you completely alone, maybe you could have had it all?
You walk up to him and stop a few millimetres away from him. If he takes a deep breath, his chest can gently brush against yours. He wants so badly to drive the blade into you and simultaneously capture your lips in a kiss that it's a confusing feeling in his current situation. You wanted him dead. That's what you came here for. To take him away. And yet you still had your ways of making him want you.
You lean forward, your hair brushing his cheek as your tongue traces the shell of his ear. He shivers as your cold breath contrasts with the warm saliva you spread before you bite down on his skin teasingly.
"I was soaked in it long before you even thought about leaving, my sweet deceiver. Now, I am just darkness." You whisper in his ear. You move away millimetres, far enough to look him in the eyes.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you raise your blade, preparing to deal the final blow and take his soul forever, locking him away in a cell next to Morgoth, most likely.
So in a desperate act of self-savement, or perhaps out of the lust you've awakened in him, or perhaps out of the pure desire to taste your lips one more time before he leaves this world, he leans down and kisses you.
And it surprises you. Sauron hears the dagger fall from your hand to the floor as you reach for his hair, tangling your hands in it. He groans and tugs at the bonds you've trapped him in so he can wrap his arms around you and take you in his arms like he wanted to all along, but you don't let him move an inch. He growls in rage and bites your lip in retaliation, drawing blood—a random action that saves him from his predicament.
With each drop of your blood, he feels the power within him begin to bubble up again. Before you know it, he breaks your bonds and pushes you against the wall behind you. You groan in protest, trying to push him away from you. You try to summon your powers to immobilise him again, but he plunges his blade into your arm, effectively distracting you.
You cry out in pain, cursing his name, but he has only one goal in mind. He tears your clothes and burrows into your skin, biting and caressing every exposed part, feeding on your blood and power, restoring his soul the vitality it needs.
You are a mess of black blood and tears as he feasts on you, outsmarting you and binding you in your own shackles that you used against him.
"You won't take me as easily as you take these mortals." He growls against your skin, drinking your blood as he uses his knife to carve tiny cuts into your skin, decorating it with both black liquid and hickeys, marks from his bites and fingers.
“You’ll pay for this.” You moan as he bites into your neck, leaving a messy, bloody trail. He licks his lips and grabs you roughly by the waist, pulling you closer so you can feel the bulge of his cock against your thigh.
"Then, my sweet death, you will take me as a happy man." He growls in your ear before smashing his lips against yours in another kiss. You don't register the moment he takes your amulet from you.
His kisses numb you to the point where you don't register anything but him. All that matters to you is the way his hands caress your body, the way his lips defile every little inch of you. It feels so good to finally feel someone's touch on you…so good to finally feel HIS touch on you.
"I think that few people have the privilege of saying that they fucked death..." He mumbles in your ear, drunk on the feeling of you beneath him.
And just when he's about to bring you the greatest pleasure, just when he's teased your core long enough that you clench around his fingers desperate for more, he does something far worse than drive your dagger through you. He leaves you completely alone again.
You scream, furious and frustrated, both for having him deceive you and sexually for not giving you the release you deserved. You pound your fists on the ground and scream long and shrilly—enough that he will surely be able to hear you, whatever pathetic form he has taken since breaking out of your realm.
And driven by hot fury, you know only one thing—he will pay for this. Even if you were to seek him out and ignore your duties. You'll get him in your arms.
There was something addictive about the way people were drawn to him.
Ever since Sauron took the form of Annatar, the people of Eregion had flocked to him like moths to a flame, seeking gifts from the great messenger of the Valar. He liked the power he had over them. How one of his (false) words could turn them into his obedient puppets who would do anything to fulfill the prophecy he had foretold.
However, with the number of creatures circling around him, he had increasing difficulty maintaining the illusion he had cast over the city.
This is exactly what has happened now.
Annatar/Sauron was cleaning up the mess he had made by killing one of the elves who had discovered too quickly what was happening beyond the walls of his safe illusion. He could not afford for the whispers of panic to reach the ears of the only blacksmith whose skills were satisfactory.
Lifting the body, he freezes suddenly as a cold shiver runs through him. The atmosphere in the room changes. The only lit torch goes out, the smell of sulfur begins to fill the air, the rats that were roaming the basement disappear, and the only sound in the room is his breathing. He looks around, trying to see through the darkness of the room, but all he can see is red blood on his hands..
He frowns, looking around him as he realises the body he was supposed to get rid of is gone. He walks over to the extinguished torch and relights it, illuminating the room once more. He looks around for the body, but all he sees are the empty corridors of the underground. He frowns and focuses his senses, trying to sense any additional presence or power that would mess with his head.
And then he hears it. A soft humming from down the hall. He automatically reaches to his side, where his sword is strapped to his belt, and slowly walks toward the sound of soft singing.
"Come, come, my lost soul, you will find your peace. Come, come, down your road, straight into my arms." He freezes in mid-step. Goosebumps rise across his body, and he feels his breath quicken.
Memories—unwanted, painful memories—flood his mind as he stands in the empty hallway, wondering if he should go down. Involuntarily, his memories go back to the day he survived one of Morgoth's most demanding trainings—the day he found out what the consequences of his actions brought to you...
"I didn't know you were a coward, Y/N! Are you going to show yourself? Or should I leave you to your work and go back to mine?" He asks cheekily, trying to get you out of your hiding place. He knows how dangerous you've become, and as much as it fascinates him, he doesn't want to be on the receiving end of your blade... or claws. "I bet you're as busy as I am these days." He mumbles, pacing the empty hallways where your humming still echoes.
He glances over his shoulder a few times, wanting to make sure that you won't surprise him with a dagger to his neck.
Sauron won't admit to himself that he's afraid of you; he just knows the threat you pose to him. There was nothing worse than a mad woman—especially an unpredictable woman. And he was foolish enough to get on your bad side, to betray you, and don't look back. But how could he possibly know that you would get punished for his action? How could he predict that you will be paying off his sins to Valar? That only showed how unjust they were. Not only to you, but to him as well.
"Won't you show me your face?" He asks, still searching for the slightest sign that will give away your presence. But your soft singing, the haunting song that makes his heart beat faster, pumping adrenaline through his body, makes it impossible for him to fully devote himself to the task of finding you. Not if he doesn't want to end up with a sword in his chest. "Valar knows how I missed looking at it."
He turns around and, as if on cue, you appear to him. He presses his lips together tightly, refraining from gasping in surprise when he sees you in all your glory. He swallows hard when his gaze falls on your deformed face that you show him. A bloodthirsty smile, full of black fangs, sunken cheeks, and no nose, is one of the less... drastic forms in which you like to show yourself lately. Sauron knows how much you want to scare him; he hopes he doesn't give you too much entertainment.
"I would have a lot less work to do, my sweet deceiver, if you would just give yourself to me as you should and stopped playing Valar. You won't fool me a third time." You warn him, stepping closer. You see his throat tremble as he swallows, and he gently closes his eyes for a moment to inhale your scent and take in a little of your closeness.
You were so damn dangerous, deadly even... and he wanted more. Even though he knew full well that this desire would probably lead him to his grave.
"But wthout me you'd be terribly bored, wouldn't you?" He asks, giving you one of his smirks. He was playing with death, literally. He wondered how many times he could get out of your cruel clutches before he finally ran out of escape routes.
He freezes when you gently place your hand on his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertip. He grits his teeth, staring at you wordlessly as you play with a strand of his blonde hair.
"Where's your elf?" You whisper against his lips, leaning in close enough that it’s a challenge for him to stay away from you. You should be a repulsive threat to him, nothing more than an enemy to be defeated. But for some reason, whether it’s your past, the pull that’s always been between you, or the power that’s bound you together, he can’t feel anything for you but pure lust.
"She left." He says shakily, wondering if you were jealous of him, if you watched him and Galadriel, if you planned her death when he declared that he wanted her to be his queen...
"Too bad... I would gladly take her in my arms. I guess I can only wait then. There is nothing more pleasant than meeting them all at the end of their path. They act as if they were truly immortal. You have no idea how surprised most of them are when they cross my path. Almost as surprised as you were when you first saw me in this form."
"I would appreciate seeing you more often if it weren't related to your current… job position." You chuckle darkly and grab his hand at his words.
You lift it between the two of you and pull out your dagger. You cut his palm, and he can only stand there, dazed, watching as you lick his black blood. You hum, tasting your power as it courses through his veins.
"Oh… but then it would be too boringly easy for you, right?" Your voice is velvety, like a balm to his frayed nerves. He allows himself to cling to you, completely forgetting that he should always be on guard with you. A mistake you won't fail to remind him of. "Tell me, Sauron… have you never heard of such a thing as being utterly charmed by death?"
Before his mind can process the meaning of your words, you have already pierced his hand with a dagger through and through. He groans in pain and tries to rip his hand from your iron grip, but you won't let him. You rip off your amulet that he stole from you, which he hung on a necklace around his neck, and you place it on his wound. You chant the appropriate words and drain him of all the power that he stole from you all those years ago—the power that helped him be reborn again.
"Next time you lay your hands on something that doesn't belong to you, I'll chop them off. I think I can find a much better use for them. A more… satisfying one, if you still know what I mean." You mock him, twisting his wrist.
He growls in pain and shoves you back, sending you crashing into the wall behind you. You raise your blade higher, pressing it against his neck as he steps closer to you. You laugh as you feel him press his own weapon against your chest.
"Well, well, well. I see you've learned something after all. Tell me, my beloved, are you afraid of me?" You whisper hoarsely, licking your lips as you lean into him. You make a move to bite into his neck, but he pulls away from you at the last second, frowning at your amused, dark chuckle.
"Only a fool wouldn't be afraid of you."
"Like calls to like, right?" You pose the question, raising an eyebrow at him. You take advantage of his momentary distraction and push him against the wall. You press yourself against him and capture his lips in a bruising, hungry kiss.
He gasps into your mouth and tangles his hands in your hair, pulling you even closer. Your darkness is addictive. He wants to bask in it, to experience it so deeply that he can become intoxicated by it. He wants to bond with you and experience the same kind of limitless power that you possess. A force that borders on death itself.
As the kiss deepens, he begins to feel you slowly draining his life force. He knows he has to pull away, but not yet. He wants to taste your lips, your sighs, and your soft moans as he caresses you through the material of your night-black dress for as long as he can. But he knows that with each little touch, kiss, and soft moan, he will want more, and it will be harder for him to pull away from you.
That's why he's reluctant to push you away. But when he does, he feels how much you've weakened him with that little kiss. He gasps, laughing thoughtfully as he struggles to even out his heartbeat and his breaths. Now he understands all that talk about deadly kisses. But if he had to choose how he died, your lips were a very tempting option.
"Enjoy the time you have left. We both know that eventually you too will find me at the end of your road. On the way… try not to bother me too much with all the dead bodies and souls you've forced me to take care of." You wink at him and blow him a kiss before disappearing, returning to the other side where the soul of the mortal he killed was waiting for you.
Sauron is surprised that you let him go so easily after his last... antics. But he knows that you didn't leave him alive out of the kindness of your heart. You enjoyed the cat and mouse game between you; you enjoyed tormenting him with the idea that you could take his soul at any moment. So he had to think of a way to make it harder for you.
He returns to the forge and absently strokes the box with the 7 rings for the dwarves. If he had divided his soul… left fragments of it in each of them, it would be impossible for you to gather them all and drag him to the world of the dead, where you could torment him as you pleased…
Or perhaps, in time, he would find a way to tame death itself and submit it to his will?
One thing was sure. At the right time, you will come for him. And you will take away everything he has worked so hard for.
Just like you always do.
He had a few centuries to figure out how to cheat death again. And how to make sure that you will be the one to fall into the trap of his arms. Not the other way around.
#sauron x reader#annatar x reader#halbrand x reader#oneshot#dark romance#toxic love#toxic relationship#smut#angst#dark magic#enemies and lovers#rings of power#lotr#fanfiction#agatha all along#i have no idea what is it but i quite like the way it went
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NNN day 9 | Shattered Promises
summary: a dangerous war was declared, the one thing you feared would happen in your life ever since your husband Matthew joined the military. The fear of him possibly dying out on the battlefield without a proper goodbye always managed to deliver you nightmares and now your worst fear came true, Matthew had to go off to fight for his country. Is he going to make it and come back home safely, or maybe you’ll forever hold the weight of him in your heart even without him among the living?
warnings: ANGST, military, war, violence mentioned, possible murder, missing limbs, dark times, happy ending (or is it?), sorrow, depressive times, vivid nightmares, triggering content & possibly more! Viewers advisory is supervised and proceed with caution!
authors note: we’re almost there at the double digits! Kinda got this random vibe today and the idea just popped into my head, this is gonna take a lot of military vibe music to get me through this and keep me in the spirit, I’m sorry as this can be kinda inaccurate in some ways 😭, luv yall and hope y’all enjoy this one
no nut november | masterlist | guestlist
- a month before the war
Laughter fills the air as our joyful golden retriever, Danny continues to jump and deliver eager licks to the side of his face while he lays down on the couch next to me, the television shadowing a soft glow over our faces alongside sunlight pooling in the room, dancing along the shadows of the living room. “Hey, Danny! Calm down there buddy!” He calls out, chuckling between each word, I observe the playful fight, thinking nothing bad could ever happen to our small little family with our fur baby. My hand slithers its way over to pet and ruffle the hairs on Danny's spine.
The whole moment was filled with pure enjoyment and true love, my heart twisting with delight as Matt finally managed to lure Danny off from on top of him and shelds himself with my body, grabbing a hold of my biceps and pull me in front of him. My laughter only intesifying as now Danny begins devoting his attention off Matt to me, hopping onto my chest but this time without eager licks and just relaxes against me, Matt dramatically gasps but a sweet chuckle quickly overpowers it, "Looks like someone has a favorite parent." He jokes, slipping out from under my body and sitting down before me.
After another playful moment passing by, Danny begins to feel tired and snuggles into Matts lap and slowly drifts into peaceful sleep. A romance movie plays in the background as me and Matt starts to chat in soft whispers to not wake up our fur baby. Admiring how at peace and happy he seems in a simple moment like this, feeling like nothing could take away the joy we've build throughout these years of our relationship, I let myself rest my head down onto Matts shoulder, tiredness now shadowing my features. "I got two little cute sleepyheads now, wanna go to bed now?" I nod my head and murmur a positive response.
Slowly and gently removing Danny off his lap to stand up, straightening his legs and turning his head to look at my sleepy form that’s now beginning to fall asleep. He walks over and picks up my body, bridal style just like he had on our wedding and every time I was tired, as well as at unexpected times. I loved him dearly and would never let anything bad happen to him, I was always a deep sleeper but ever since Matthew decided to join the military I was afraid about him possibly dying on the battlefield and I couldnt bear the dark thoughts roaming inside of my mind, it started with simple flashes of him in my mind but then turned into full nightmares I couldn’t bear.
It started flashing his image as he carried me over to our bedroom and laid me down, covering my body with the duvet before undressing himself and sliding under it next to me, he wraps a warm arm around me and pulls me into his chest, nuzzling his face into my hair as a feeling of safety washes over me but when I close my eyes I can only see him, laying on the ground-shot and dead- while his buddies drag his limp to the side for shelter, trying to revive him back to live but without proper medical care it was impossiple for them to. My heart twisted with sorrow as my eyes immediately pop open, unable to fall asleep no matter how hard I tried. I shift my body to face Matt and hide my face in his chest while clutching onto his body as if I would lose him then and there.
- Present day
The morning approaches, sun barely rising over the horizon, casting a warm soft glow over our bodies as I throw the duvet off my body. Seeing Matthew is stil asleep so I make it my misson to quietly get dressed and exit the room, feeling like doing wanting to do something special I decided to make a hot breakfast for him when he decides to wake up. As soon as Danny catches a glimpse of me walking down the stairs he immediatly runs over and demands some head scraches as well as sustenance, chuckling at how much energy he has in the morning, "Oh you want some head scraches? I'll give you some head scarches, you little cutie." He follows me into the kitchen, grabbing his feeding bowl and placing it on the countet but as I was about to get his food I hear something weird from the radio, immediately turning up the volume to hear more context and its coming from the news.
"Welcome everybody, your news-reporter speaking. The United States Of America has declared war upon another country and we need every soldier we can grasp over the age of 18, this is not a drill but a serious war our country is under. Please seek immediate shelter and consider flying out of the country for safety if youre near any of there states..."
I immediately freeze, being unable to move as the other words coming from the reporter become irrelevant to my brain, "every soldier they can grasp" my brain cannot comprehend the state of fear I am before Im pulled out of my thoughts when Matthew comes rushing down the stairs, seeming like he just woke up telling by his messy hair falling over his forehead. He walks over to me, seeing how scared I have become and places a reassuring kiss on my forehead, “It’s going to be okay, darling. I'm going to be fine, I wont leave you." He softly speaks, assuming I've hear all of it on the radion while he got a call, cradling me in his arms and kissing the top of my head to calm me down in any bit, he's known this was my worst fear and the repeative vivid dreams I've woken up to multiple times and him trying to calm my nerves.
He pulls away from the embrace and leans down to be face level with me, his expression softening as my eyes become glossy and shiny with worried tears swirling around in them. "I promise I will come back to you as soon as I get back, you can come with me to the pickup bus." He reassures, wiping away the slowly sliding tear with his thumb on my cheek. My arms wrap around his neck and pull him back in, feeling as this could be the last time we speak and feel each others warm embrace. "I'll go get ready now." He pulls away before turning around and walking back upstairs to dress himself more properly and apropriate, my soul eternally freaking out and not wanting this to be real. Maybe its just a dream-yeah a dream-now I just have to wake up from this nightmare of a day, oh wait, its actually very much real life. Soon I follow Matt into our bedroom and dress myself properly as well, getting rid of the pyjamas and now in outside clothes.
- At the pickup spot
As we approached the bus, my heart ached and twisted in various ways that made me feel sick to my stomach. Other familys and couples surrounded the bus, saying goodbyes and crying as they got on the bus. Matt holds my hand before turning to face me and pulls me into a soft kiss which only lasted a minute before he had to pull away, "Be safe and please don't die out there." I stammered, full of worry and fear for his life. the news reporter stated it would be a dangerous and serious war which only heightened my pulse, for now I had to take his words and cling onto them as much as I can for them to be true. He gave me a last reassuring kiss on the forehead before he got onto the bus, some of his buddies recognised me and I recognized them since Matthew would have them over often and before they got onto the bus to join Matt, they walked over to me and suddenly picked me up into the air. "woah, guys, what are you doing?-" I questioned but without a response in return, they carried me over to where Matt was sitting, he popped his head though the window and suddenly kissed me, I melted right into it and kissed him back almost immediately. It was filled with pure true love and caring, the world around me disappeared and the happy cheers of others started to become more faint to my ears, all of my worries disolve into the air and my only value left was the moment right now.
By the time we pull away, the driver calls out for everyone to get on board as they will be driving away soon, they let me down onto the ground and hop onto the bus themselves, from a distance now I watch as they close the doors and drive away, a feeling of loss washes over me which I can’t brush away no matter how hard I want to trust his words that he’ll be okay but it seems thats a promise he can’t make. I leave the spot and get into Matt’s car in which be drove us here in, feeling his scent lingering still in the air as I drive off back home.
- a year after the start of the war
Everyday after Matthew’s gone off to fight for his country’s freedom, I’ve waited patiently for him to return back home, dreaded the time I would hold him in my arms again, feel his lips on mine or him holding me and calming me down after a terrible nightmare. They’ve only became more intense and I couldn’t bear being alone anymore but got used to it after awhile, everyday I would plant a single white rose in his name since he always loved gifting them to me to remind me of his love and now it reminds me of him, now that a year has passed I could have a whole garden of them.
I was sitting outside infront of my collection of white roses as the sun shined, the sun ever started to remind me of him, of how brightly his smile would light up any room he walked in. My poor baby, gazing upon the growing garden and every single time get reminded of him so I never forget him, I could never forget my poor baby. He was the only man I’ve truly loved and wanted to grow old together, now the only thing I have are reminders of him and dissolving hope of him still being alive out there. “Please come back, my darling.” I murmur under my breath before suddenly being ripped out from my thoughts.
My phone buzzes, indicating an incoming call, I pick up my phone and pick it up, putting on my professional voice and serious face instead of the broke woman I was, “Hello?” I spoke into the receiver, waiting for the caller to speak. “Hello, is this Ms. Sturniolo?” My eyebrows furrow in confusion and skepticism, it slowly easing into my voice. “Yes, this is she. I-Im sorry but who’s calling?” “A former friend of his from the army, I’m here to inform you that your husband Matthew Sturniolo has been pronounced dead duo to a fatal shot in the arm and bleeding out while on the battlefield”
I freeze, the words slowly sinking in before my phone drops on the grassy ground, here I was grasping onto the lasts of my hope that he’s still alive and now he is presumed dead, my hands cover my face as uncontrollable sobs leave my mouth. Tears staining my face and hands, I can’t believe this, he promised he would come back, he… is dead. The worst of my fears has now came true and it hit me like a thousand bricks, I feel something shatter inside of me beyond repair.
I feel… broken? Like a part of me has been ripped out of me without my permission, he has became a part of me and build me into the person I am today, but without him by my side I don’t think I can continue being the same person and living my life normally, he was the only man I’ve loved truly and now he has been taken away from me. What have I done to deserve such punishment? I continue to lay on the ground, consumed by complete depression and a feeling of loss. That night I haven’t returned to my house and slept outside in front of the white roses, the thing that reminded me the most of my dear husband.
- a month after Matthew being presumed dead
The sun slowly rose up over the horizon and I was off to go preform my mundane routine, getting out of bed has been the hardest part every morning and, every emotion has been wiped off my face after… you know after what, I slumped over to my dresser and thrown on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie I stole from Matthew, his specific scent still lingering on it. Walking downstairs, I walk into the kitchen and grab Danny’s bowl, filling it with food and placing it back down in its spot, he doesn’t greet me anymore, the only thing he has been doing besides eating was sit outside near Matthew’s grave in which I would join him every morning, I placed a hand crafted cross on the top of my white rose garden to indicate his grave, some of the older ones have started to wither and loose their beautiful white petals.
It reflects the feelings I feel, being like a withered white rose without him by my side, slowly loosing my color with each passing minute. I exit the house and drop down beside our dog, gazing upon the grave before I speak in a soft voice in hopes that he’s somewhere here, listening to the words I speak from my broken heart. “I wish you could be here with me, I can’t be the same person without you. If you’re listening to me, I love you more than anything in the world.” Every word stings the same amount, my throat feeling tight as I feel tears swirling in my eyes.
“Why wish when I’m right here?”
The sudden words take me out of my focus, the voice sounding too familiar to miss, looking around as my eyes catch a glimpse of Matthew. Wait… Matthew?- I stare at him as he suddenly is walking towards me but there’s something different about him-he’s missing an arm-so he isn’t dead after all? I could be imagining things, I wipe my teary eyes before he extends his arms, my body immediately rising from the ground and running into his warm embrace, feeling the touch I’ve dreaded to be able to feel again on my skin.
“I told you I would come back.” He happily cheered, holding me in his embrace and placing a lingering kiss on my forehead. I feel like myself again, the part of me I thought I lost forever has returned, Danny comes running at us and jumps up and down, wagging his tail aggressively in joy. “I-I thought you were dead, I thought I lost you forever… I-I seriously can’t believe you’re alive, you know they called-“ before I could finish my sentence, he smashes his lips against mine and stopped me from ranting for half an hour about what it was without him for all of this time without him. I slightly relax into the kiss, our dog barked and we chuckled into the kiss together, today I was put back together and felt like myself again now with Matthew beside me again. I’m me again, my other half has returned into its place, I’ll be forever grateful for the lord letting him live and stay with me in earth longer. My poor baby has finally returned and that’s all that matters to me right now.
Guestlist!
| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |
#✰ ! 𝐕’𝐬 𝐍𝐨 𝐍𝐮𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 ! ✰#✰ ! 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 🦈 ! ✰#✰ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 ✰#military#joining the army#war time#missing limbs#dark themes#depressive period#potentially triggering#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo angst#sturniolo angst#angst with a happy ending#angst#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo fandom#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolos#sturniolo triplets x reader
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short blurb of dad!matt, introduction coming soon!
not proofread
usually you were careful when it came to sex, ever since you got pregnant at the ripe age of fourteen from your foolish behaviour. having to abort that baby was hard, so of course, you made sure whenever you were intimate to take careful precautions. such as, birth control and condoms.
you were sure you wouldn’t find love again, after years of being alone. until you met matt. the curly headed brunette with a sense of humour no one else had.
it took you a while to be intimate, the first few times were amazing, protected and overal great memories until one time, you were both drunk. ended up having sex without precautions. and now your sat on the bathroom floor.
you opened the box of pregnancy tests, three emerged from the packaging. fear flooded your body. the possibility of being pregnant making you terrified.
tears emerged, letting them fall onto your thighs as you read the instructions. suddenly, it hit you. this was really happening. a 50/50 chance of your life changing forever.
you stood up, taking the lid off of all three pregnancy tests. somehow, you managed to hold all three beneath you, over the toilet. you did your buissness, making sure to hit the stick with your stream.
once finished, you put the caps back on and placed them on the counter. you fixed your clothing and began to wait patiently.
matt was out running errands for dinner, since the fridge had been rather empty. so you were alone, in one of the most awful states you’ve ever been in.
you began to cry, turning away from the tests. the results werent finalized yet so you tried to pull yourself together.
after three minutes, you got the courage to turn around. slowly, you turned around, glancing at all three tests. the two lines made it obvious, you were carrying a baby inside you.
you checked all three, immediate tears fall from your eyes. as if on cue, the bathroom door opened. you were sure he wouldn’ve been out longer.
matt’s eyes settled upon your shaken state before following your gaze to the three pregnancy tests. “uhm, w-what are those?” matt coughed, clearing his throat.
your throat ran dry, sobs leaving your lips. he pushed back his feelings and went to hug you. matt pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist.
“im sorry, im sorry..” you cried, body shaking intensely. your nails dug into his skin, as if trying to confirm he wouldn’t leave like the last situation.
matt licked his lips before pressing multiple kisses onto the top of your head. “it’s okay. m’ not mad, ‘promise.” matt mumbles, his voice promising. “you sure?” you murmured, pulling back.
he nodded, a smile displayed on his lips. “your pregnant, and im happy. but if this isn’t what you want, i understand. and im here to support.” matt spoke, his hands rubbing your elbows.
you cant help but smile, his words comforting you in ways you couldn’t describe. “c’mon, i got ingredients for french toast, your favourite.” he teased, taking your hand.
letting out a sigh of relief, you followed to the kitchen.
writers note: i just wanted to post smth ! is this good?
taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re
#𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 ꨄ#sturniolo triplets#tumblr fyp#matt sturniolo#fluff#mattsturniolo#dad!matt#dad!matt sturniolo#pregnancy
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The Mystery of Chopper Base foreshadowed Ezra's exile.
Ezra's anxieties about Malachor brought him to Zeb. He was headed to a Sith temple with Kanan and Ahsoka, and it was with Zeb that Ezra was able to show his more vulnerable side.
He said it. "I don't know when we'll be back. Or if we'll be back."
And the thing is...the Ezra who came back from Malachor is not the same Ezra.
The new Ezra that came back was traumatized, angry, defeated, grieving, and he blamed himself for just how sideways their mission to Malachor went. This new Ezra started wielding a green lightsaber and came very close to falling to the dark side if Kanan had not been there to pull him back from the edge.
This Ezra came back jaded and vengeful and guilt-ridden after Maul blinded Kanan, and he and Kanan had been forced to leave Ahsoka behind with Vader while the Sith temple collapsed around them.
This Ezra came back with a Maul shaped shadow doing everything possible to make Ezra his new apprentice.
This Ezra survived against Darth Vader for a second time (because someone else was there to save him).
Ezra was already grieving the death of his parents when Malachor happened. Malachor hurt everyone in his family. He brought Kanan back to Hera physically injured and forever changed, and he wasn't able to bring Ahsoka back to Rex at all.
But despite the grief that everyone was experiencing, they persevered. Hera continued on with the mission and Rex spent just as much time pulling Ezra back towards the light as Kanan and Sabine did.
Hera and Kanan's final conversation before Malachor ended up becoming a reality. Kanan regained his vision and was able to look at Hera in his final seconds of life.
Ahsoka and Rex's final conversation was the very first scene in the Twilight of the Apprentice, and it was over Space Facetime. Rex was so nervous about Ahsoka going without him and she had to remind him that she was not alone. Rex is used to mourning his brothers. He's done it thousands of time. He's used to seeing his own face die over and over again. Losing Ahsoka would be different though. She wasn't a clone trooper, but she was still a soldier just like him. She was his best friend, his closest ally, someone he trusted with his life more times than he could care to count. They were each other's sword and shield.
Ezra understands these bonds. It's what his bond with Sabine was becoming.
And all of them (with the exception of Kanan because my boy sacrificed his life to save the people he loved, and Ahsoka because we don't even know when she is, let alone where she is at this point) followed Ezra into battle to take Lothal back from the Empire. They freed Lothal from the grip of Darth Sidious, but Ezra didn't get to see it happen. He was somehow surviving a long ass trip through hyperspace with space whales and a very pissed off Grand Admiral Thrawn.
He spends ten years in exile, alone, on another planet in a distant galaxy with a ship full of stranded Imperials nearby and always ready to kill him, but he still manages to find a new family, traveling with them and protecting them, grieving his loss and becoming more attuned to the Force.
The Ezra that Sabine finds is so much like the Ezra that she first met on Lothal. He doesn't seem to be carrying a heavy burden, but he knows he needs to get back home because Thrawn is a Big Problem, and he's had ten years learning how to outsmart the Imperials and the Nightmothers.
He's returning home with a lightsaber that matches Kanan's and he's about to meet Kanan's son Jacen for the first time.
The empire is toppled now but he and Zeb will have plenty of war stories to trade when they see each other again, especially as the threat of the Empire's return is rising again.
#star wars rebels#ahsoka series#star wars rebels was always foreshadowing sabine becoming a jedi too#ahsoka was such a good series and i am so excited for season 2#and i can't wait to see ezra reuniting with his long lost family#jacen has only ever heard amazing stories about ezra bridger#and now he's finally going to meet him#star wars needs to start paying my therapy bills because it loves to break my brain on an emotional level#ahsoka tano#sabine wren#ezra bridger#zeb orrelios#convor convor convor#kanan jarrus#captain rex#jacen syndulla#hera syndulla#ahsoka's gotta deal with the mortis gods again it looks like and i'm so ready because mortis is my favorite arc
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Valentinesday sex with Mountain and Rainy boi?
YES YES YES OH MY GOD THE M U S H IN THIS
Mountain being the sweetest boy pls
(it's another long one oopsie)
Rain is latching his instrument case shut after a practice session when his vision goes dark, the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers filling his nose.
"Guess who?"
It's rumbled into the back of his neck and Rain smiles, leaning against a broad chest and reaching up to grasp strong wrists.
"Dew, when did you get tall enough to kiss my neck?"
Mountain huffs out a snort into the soft curls at Rain's nape and drops his hands to the water ghoul's shoulders.
"Started drinking my milk," he rumbles, dragging his hands down the smaller ghoul's arms and turning him on the spot. Rain kisses his chin.
"Guess so," Rain says, wrapping his arms around Mountain's middle. The earth ghoul smiles and kisses him between the horns, holding Rain to his chest for a handful of moments.
"Come with me," he mutters into Rain's hair, and the water ghoul pulls back to look up at him. "Got something I'd like to show you in the greenhouse." Rain tilts his head.
"The greenhouse? It's after dark, we won't be able to see-"
"Just come with me, lilypad," Mountain says with a smirk and an eyeroll. "It's a surprise."
He laces his fingers with Rain's and the water ghoul lets himself be led out into the starlit night. He shivers in the February chill and Mountain pulls him close to his side, wraps a long arm around his shoulders. They reach the last bend in the path to the agricultural portion of the abbey grounds when Mountain stops him.
"Close your eyes," he murmurs. Rain raises an incredulous eyebrow, but does after a moment. Mountain resumes walking, guiding Rain by the shoulders.
"It's already dark out, this feels weird," Rain quietly gripes. Mountain gives him a squeeze.
"Have you never heard of a surprise, raincloud?" The earth ghoul's voice is low and teasing. "I'm not going to push you in the lake, I'm not actually Dewdrop."
Rain laughs and lets himself be led, Mountain humming for the rest of the short trek. Rain lets himself lean into the earth ghoul, basking in his gentle heat. Like a lizard on a sun-warm rock. Mountain brings them to a halt and Rain is hit with a wave of springtime, warm floral air enveloping him. Mountain pulls the greenhouse door closed behind them.
"Keep 'em closed," Mountain says, pressing a kiss to Rain's temple. The smaller ghoul nods, soaking in the humidity surrounding him. Letting the warmth drag the chill from his bones while Mountain shuffles around. Rain hears things being moved, the clink of something glass, the thud of metal on wood.
"Mount, what-"
"Almost done," he assures, voice off to Rain's right. Rain rocks on his feet, one arm crossed over his stomach to grip his opposite elbow, listening to the rustle of leaves as Mountain hurries back to stand behind him. He rests his hands on Rain's hips and his chin on Rain's shoulder and the water ghoul presses their cheeks together.
"Can I open my eyes yet?"
"Mmm, I don't know. You look awfully pretty like this," Mountain teases, pressing another kiss to Rain's temple while the other ghoul huffs out a chuckle. Mountain moves him where he wants him and steps back. "Go ahead, open."
Rain blinks a few times, bringing the room into focus and-
"Oh, wow." Rain's jaw slackens as he whispers the words, eyes wide, drinking in his surroundings.
The greenhouse stands transformed. The pallets of exotic flora that usually sat in the center of it have been moved, the plants themselves rearranged into a wide circle of lush greenery and vibrant blooms. The plants are all decorated with fairy lights, brilliant littles motes interspersed in their leaves reminiscent of the starry sky. They provide enough of a glow to illuminate the small table sitting at the center of the circle, a battered old thing no doubt dug from the depths of a storage shed. It's flanked by mismatched chairs and covered in a spread of pots and platters. There are wine glasses too, and some "fancy" plates from the common room, the ones that weren't plastic.
"Mountain..."
"Do you like it?" Mountain strides past Rain to the table, uncovering dishes. "I made your favorites, I think. You like rice more than pasta, right?" Rain doesn't respond and Mountain continues anyway. "Don't worry, no onions in anything, I remembered. Do you want wine? It's not great, but-"
Rain can't stop staring at the earth ghoul's back while he talks. He doesn't think he's ever heard Mountain say so much at one time. He's babbling, talking over himself and repeating the line about the onions again. Rain feels like his chest caving in.
"You...you did all of this?" Rain breathes the words into the air between them and Mountain falters, nearly dropping his $5 bottle of wine. When he turns his face is bright red, and Rain feels like his heart is going to explode.
"Well...yeah," Mountain mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck.
"For...for me?" Rain swallows around the lump in his throat as the earth ghoul stares at him. His eyes drift around again, taking in the lights, the food, the record player nearby poised to play. The blanket laid out to the left, covered in red rose petals. "All of this is...for me?"
"Yeah. For you. Happy valentine's day," Mountain says with a soft smile. Rain's attention is pulled back to the earth ghoul, his brow furrowed.
"Happy...what?" Rain watches Mountain finish pouring the wine, bringing a glass to him and sipping from his own. Rain takes a gulp - it tastes like grape-flavored feet. He doesn't care.
"It's a human thing Copia told me about," the earth ghouls says with a shrug. "A day to show someone how much you...care. About them." Mountain clears his throat and sips his drink. "I thought I'd," he gestures at the overwhelming about of obvious love surrounding them, "do something for you. Y'know. To show you I care."
Rain stares up at Mountain, watching little pink peonies of embarrassment bloom around his horns. They match the flush painting his freckled cheeks and the tips of his ears. He suddenly feels like he's never really seen Mountain before; the flecks of gold in his emerald eyes, the squared edges of his pupils, the chips in his curling two-toned horns, the streaks of red and gold in his hair. They're all suddenly thrown into sharp relief in the soft light, and Rain can't stand not being in his arms right now. He takes both of their glasses, setting them on the ground and blinking away his tears.
"Mount," he says, breathless. The earth ghoul huffs out an oof as Rain rushes forward, slamming into his chest and wrapping long arms around his waist. Rain buries his face in his neck and inhales until he can't anymore. Mountain heaves a sigh and lets himself collapse against Rain, just a little.
"Do you like it, water lily?" Rain has never heard Mountain sound so small. So unsure. He pulls back to show Mountain his smile, so wide it hurts.
"It's beautiful," he sighs. Mountain is looking at him like he hung the moon and it makes every inch of Rain burn. "Mountain, it's...thank you." He raises a hand to the taller ghoul's cheek, who leans into the touch with a purr.
"You deserve it," Mountain murmurs against his palm, and the words make Rain's whole body sing.
They also make him realize that he is incredibly, unbearably hard, cock throbbing against his zipper. His hands fist into Mountain's shirt with more than a little guilt, Rain scrunching his eyes shut and hoping the earth ghoul doesn't notice the way he shifts his hips.
"Rain," he rumbles, and it has that specific timbre to it that lets the water ghoul know he's been caught. He looks up at Mountain, blushing and sheepish. The taller ghoul smiles as he presses his thigh between Rain's legs. "Is this what I think it is?" The hesitance and nerves are gone, replaced by smooth seduction that has Rain's eyes going heavy.
"Sorry," he offers, quiet. "I just-" Mountain interrupts him with a kiss and Rain melts into it, opening up immediately at the flick of the earth ghoul's tongue over his lower lip. He loves how Mountain tastes - like springtime, warm honey and buttercups.
"Don't apologize," Mountain says against his lips. He moves Rain's hand from him back, brings it to rest at the front of his jeans. Rain moans into his mouth - Mountain feels as hard as he does.
"Fuck, but-" Rain groans as Mountain starts planting a slow trail of kisses from the corner of his mouth to the sharp edge of his jaw. "But the food-"
"It isn't going anywhere," Mountain breathes into his skin, and Rain shudders when a fang nips at his earlobe. "Besides," the earth ghoul pulls back and stares down at Rain with darkened eyes, "I was sort of hoping you'd want dessert first."
Mountain catches him in another deep kiss and Rain lets himself get lost in it. It's sloppy and languid, exploratory in the best way. They undress each other with shaky fingers, Rain letting out a reedy little cry when the earth ghoul's callused fingers slide over his nipples. Before he knows it he's being lowered to the rose-covered blanket, Mountain mouthing at his throat while he divests Rain of his pants. The water ghoul watches the flowers in his hair change, the peonies falling away in favor of bluebells and pale pink azaleas.
"Beautiful," he sighs, but Mountain doesn't seem to hear him. He's busy kicking his own jeans away, and the movement allows Rain to absorb the way his muscles shift in the low light. The way his dick sways, red-tipped and hypnotizing. Mountain retrieves a small bottle from beneath the edge of the blanket and comes to rest on his belly between Rain's legs.
Mountain takes him into his mouth at the same time he presses a lubed finger into Rain's already slick hole and the water ghoul chokes on his moan. His hands fly to Mountain's horns as the earth ghoul sucks him just the way he likes, slow and steady with flicks of the tongue here and there. Mountain always know exactly where to touch him, a point proven by the way he deftly slips in another finger and curls them.
"Lucifer, Mount," Rain huffs, voice tight. His thighs are already starting to shake, and the way Mountain looks up at him with a mouthful of cock doesn't help matters. "Please, please-"
The earth ghoul swallows around him, adds a third finger, and Rain goes boneless against the blanket. His hips rock back onto Mountain's fingers of their own accord, the other ghoul matching the bob of his head to the roll of his pelvis.
Rain gasps, digging a heel gently into Mountain's back and hands tightening on his horns. He's certain he's going to explode as the earth ghoul strokes his walls, rubs tight circles around his prostate. Mountain is swallowing rhythmically with every press, drinking down everything he's forcing Rain to leak. It's maddening, and Rain finds himself suddenly desperate, like he's drowning on dry land. He needs Mountain in him now.
"Ready," he pants, chest rising and falling rabbit-quick, "Mount, I'm ready, fuck, please I-" Rain makes the mistake of looking down at Mountain as he pulls off, and the soft light surrounding him is nothing short of perfection.
"I've got you," he assures, pressing a wet kiss to the hollow of Rain's hip. The water ghoul is out of his mind by the time Mountain has kissed his way back up to his mouth, fingers still working him open. Mountain's cock nudges a cheek and Rain makes a little yipping sound that has him moaning. "How do you want it, Rainy?"
It's the question Mountain always asks, and Rain most always has the same answer - on his knees, face pressed into whatever surface was available. Deep thrusts that Rain would swear he could feel in his teeth. Ones that would undo him from the inside out and leave him a drooling, sated mess. Rain pulls Mountain down until their foreheads touch, until they're breathing one another's air.
"Just like this," he huffs, watching Mountain's shining eyes widen, "you're so gorgeous Mount, I never want to stop looking at you." He feels delirious, his chest aching and his stomach twisting. Mountain stills and Rain tries not to whine when he withdraws his fingers.
"I can do that," he rumbles, but Rain doesn't miss the sheen of tears in his eyes.
The world falls away when Mountain pushes into his quivering body, Rain unable to keep his noises at bay. They bounce off the glass walls in a sinful chorus, one accompanied by Mountain's low growl and the fresh scent of rose petals. Mountain bottoms out and they gasp into each other's mouths when Rain wraps his legs around the larger ghoul's waist.
"Show me how much you care about me," Rain slurs.
Mountain does.
#miasma's work#the band ghost ficlet#mountain ghoul#rain ghoul#i need to really try to make these shorter i think#this is absurd#i had to end it before it carried on forever#also it's technically still valentines day somewhere so im NOT TOO LATE#also im not reading this one over i am too tired lmao my bad if mistakes
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Imagine the fanon Claude Faustus vs Will or Ronald for how they treat Sebastian.. and cause their reapers too ig.
Claude, roasting his ex: You can barely manage your own staff, Michaelis, and yet you have the audacity to call yourself one hell of a butler? It’s laughable, really. 🤭
Claude when Ronald barges in talking trash and attempting to mow Seb down with his scythe, or William has the gall to treat the demon he once loved (and still does, if he’s being honest with himself) like vermin:
No one else is allowed to slander Michaelis; that’s his exclusive job as a divorcé. And heaven itself can’t help the fool, reaper or otherwise, who means Sebastian harm. They can expect a drawerful of Trancy butter knives through their vitals or slow death encased in a cocoon of demonic spider silk—whichever Claude’s in the mood for. 🕷🔪
#kuro asks#kuroshitsuji#claude faustus#sebastian michaelis#not generally a sebclaude shipper but i’m very soft for the fanon concept of them as ‘we’re divorced but still frenemies’#yes they still throw shade at each other at every conceivable opportunity#and they weren’t as good to each other as they should have been in the past#but at the end of the day they still care for each other deep down#sebas will always remember the happy times they shared before things turned sour#claude will never love another demon like he loved sebastian#because he still carries a torch for the phantomhive butler even though he respects that what they once had is gone forever#i also definitely see claude as having a deep-seated antipathy towards reapers#he just gives off that vibe
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THEY DID NOT MAKE SKY ZONE FOR THE FAT PEOPLE
#The first thing i did was go on the diving thingy into the foam pit and i got STUCK IN THE PIT#AND THE WORKER SPENT LIKE 5 MINUTES TRYING TO GET ME OUT#AND I WANTED TO GO AGAIN BUT WHEN I LOOKED DOWN THE DROP AND I SAW THE SQUARES OF SOFT FLUFFY MATERIAL#MY LIFE FLASHED BEFORE MY E YE S#How could this happen to me#i had fun i think im done now tho i didnt do much but must of it is just foam pits and i dont wanna go in there again#It was traumatizing guys i was like ctommy in exile#How he had the fucking BALLS of STEEL to jump off that tower#Tje drop was only 6ft but i wanted to kill myself#Every step i took i just sunk further#my brother told me before how i could suffocate as joke#And all i could think about was what if i cant get out what if im stuck here forever#it wasnt the embarrassment that deterred me it was the idea alone of not having the ability to pull myself out#how can i turn this into a metaphor for ctommy.#something something carrying the dead weight of himself out of the pit with his scars and all being a symbol for all the trauma hes faced#Uhh something something someone is holding your hand trying to pull you out but none of it matters in the end#Sorry.for using my ptsd from skyzone to fuel my ctommy meta. Um
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‘ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ! ’
ᡴꪫ synopsis. university sucks major ass. on the bright side, you’re on break—you decide to go pay your father a visit. this 'visit' ends up to you being introduced to his best friend, toji. who’s he? maybe your panties know the answer.
wc. 7.4k
warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), praise, cunnilingús, squìrting, implied multiple órgasms, unprotected, degradation, size difference, impact play, poor dad is kinda clueless, almost caught, overstimulation.
dbf! masterlist
“who’s he?”
a simple question — yet the moment the words ran out your mouth, it felt as if all eyes were on you. in reality, it was though. the tall man who was quite a few staggering inches taller than your own father had such a gaze. he had hands buried into the depths of his pockets, shifting his weight as he stood still before burning a stare right into you. an intense stare, you could almost make out somewhat of an intriguing smirk. that sly smile with an everlasting scar running down the right side of his mouth.
“hey honey,” your father waves out with a brief gesture. he throws an arm around the buff man before giving him a rough pat on the back. “this is toji. met him ‘bout a year ago at one of those boat races. heh, news flash—he lost.”
“woah. no need to embarrass me, man,” toji murmurs in a raspy tone and by all means was his voice deep. laced in pure baritone, far deeper than your fathers. by a mile, to be specific. his voice has a jagged huskiness to it, insanely attractive. as he spoke, his eyes flickered towards you and he’d occasionally look away with that same chaffing sneer. “but anyway,” toji averts his eyes back towards you. his cologne was loud, you could smell it from miles away from you. he pauses for a few good seconds before uttering. “it’s nice to meet ya, sweetheart.”
you gulped, suddenly feeling small. you couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him — his demeanor, the way he carried himself, anything was. but it was something that had you a bit drawn in so to speak. “i um..”
“she’s not that much of a speaker,” your father chuckles, giving you a soft rub near your back. “poor brain’s probably all fried from those midterms. right honey?”
“you don’t say.” toji raises a brow, glancing away for a moment and a smile tugged right against his his dimples—and for a moment, he was suddenly intrigued by his best friend’s daughter.
that was the initial first reaction between the two of you. you ended up staying at your father’s house for the remaining duration of your visit.
nothing too much sparked between the two of you, of course there’d be subtle moments. real subtle moments—stupid things, like having him help you grab something from one of the top shelves.
of course he’d help, he was taller than you by many many inches. effortlessly towering over you. it’s the way he’d press up against you. it was quite hard to shut those thoughts of yours up. those lewd salacious thoughts that were forever kept into the very back of your brain, silently fantasizing about your father’s best friend.
apparently, he stayed for quite around the same time you did since he and your father would typically hang, do all sorts of men activities you never really cared about—golfing, shooting ranges, watching the most recent football games. that was the most annoying part, how they’d both obnoxiously yell at the screen whenever their favorite team was pathetically losing.
your room was directly upstairs, you heard everything. it was as if the walls were merely thin. in a way, they were. the constant repetitious hollering from the two men were so irksome. eyes merely rolled to the back of your head whilst you were trying to scroll on your phone in peace.
you never did understand why a dumb game of balls would drive men so crazy. nevertheless, you let off a tiny sigh before plopping right down in your bed. immensely, you stared off into space.
you had no idea why, but the minute your eyes linger into the white nearly peeled off drywall near the ceiling, you thought about him. toji.
stupid, maybe…
it’s been a few days and you hardly knew the guy. encounters between him were subtle and brief. he’d nod his head at you, barely acknowledging your existence and going straight back to some meaningless conversation with your father.
there was one day however, one day that had you hot all over. it was when you walked in on toji, he was using the spare shower that no one really uses, it’s reserved mostly for guests—perfect for him in this case.
you remember it like it was yesterday. since you were wide awake during this time for whatever reason, your dad sent you to go replace some towels from downstairs since he was doing laundry so you mindlessly make your way downstairs. the door was visibly cracked. sure, you probably should have knocked but who takes showers around three am?
apparently, this guy.
toji was literally just getting out the shower when you walked in. steam fogged throughout the entire space.
it was hot, stuffy and dampened with mist clinging against the rectangular mirrors. smothered with fog, you practically end up bumping right into something hard.
to be specific, that something was toji’s broad chest. maybe you were a bit delusional but you could have sworn, the moment you made contact with his bulky pecs, it moved upon impact.
“excuse you, sweetheart,” toji would scoff teasingly, his low voice was a bit more rougher since it was late at night. you were definitely speechless, barely able to process a single word from your mouth. thankfully a towel was wrapped around his slim torso—yet you started to wish maybe he didn’t have it protecting his lower half.
your eyes stuck to his chest the entire time, talk about embarrassing. immediately, your pretty dilated pupils ran down his chest, down his v-line, his perfectly structured build . . and then, his happy trail. he was well trimmed of the sort, practically. toji’s version of well trimmed was a bit hairy. regardless, it was still an attractive feature.
the more your eyes rove, the more you glance at his nearly perfectly sculptured structure. his chest was painted with a plethora of battle scars, now you were the one intrigued. you wanted to know more.
“you’re a little rude, huh,” and you abruptly snap from your thoughts. it was so brusque…
returning back to reality, out of that lewd trance you were so desperately trapped in—you blink twice, not even realizing how he was right up close to you. toji stares down at you before sneering. “it’s like three am. shouldn’t you be in bed?”
you shift your feet a bit, maintaining a little distance before trying to reply in the best nonchalant way possible. “uh no,” and then you utter awkwardly. “shouldn’t you be in bed? who randomly wakes up to take showers this late?”
“guys my age,” he jibes. “ya wouldn’t get it.”
you deadpan, fully aware it was a joke but you held everything in you to not have your eyes roll all the way back. “whatever,” and then you nearly forget what you were about to do. he watches you, you open near the lower cabinet and replace the clean towels. it grew profoundly quiet, a pin could drop. the moment you turned around, toji scoffs to himself. “did you need anything? something else?”
“ah. thank you, i’m fine, princess,” toji huffs with a sly grin. he reaches near the small wooden table to grab what seemed to be a half-used lotion bottle. however, you didn’t expect for him to completely change the topic, flipping your own words around with a blunt, “do you need something?”
“huh?”
“you heard me, girl.”
the banter…
he was definitely cocky, playful, literally any other synonym would fit.
you hated how he’d get you speechless everytime. you loathed how he was such an effect on you. with a brief gnaw on your bottom lip you narrow your eyes, mumbling out a, “stupid question.”
“i agree,” toji smirks. “but eh. y’er a smart girl. ‘m sure you can come up with a good comeback soon.”
he was so annoying, entirely so.
it’d be simple interactions like that between the two of you. much to your surprise though, nothing really else happened. toji would tease you a bit then pretend nothing happened, throw you a compliment or two and call it a day.
toji would often visit daily or twice a day, mainly to hang with your father. you could care less about what they did, but you were bored out of your mind from being in the house all day. you could go out, but it’s not like you had anyone to go with. everyone was either busy or … busy. besides, most of your friends were on exotic vacations or out of the country—you sighed, rubbing a hand against your stomach as you stared in the ceiling wall.
but then, the most lasciviously filthy thought made its way into your thoughts. you thickly swallowed before reaching a hand down between your legs. the air grew abnormally dry, shame…
to be completely honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. this couldn’t have ever been a more perfect time. you were sure your father and his cocky best friend was out at top golf, probably.
intaking a single breath, you lean back against your pillow—slowly, you started to focus on your breathing.
parting your legs, you lightly pull down your shorts before tugging your panties to the side. you wince for a little, realizing how you were already a bit soaked. a little dampened spot right towards the front part of your underwear. you knew it had to be from pondering about toji.
speaking of, you remember that time where he helped—well, ‘attempted’ to cook dinner that one time. all you could focus on was his hands. such rough thick hands, you wondered what’d it feel like to have those same hands gingerly wrap around your throat. such thick fingers shove down your throat while he calls you such degrading names—just anything.
the more you were deep in thought, the more drenched you started to become. you went slow, being patient with yourself. you imagined it was toji’s fingers instead of yours. such big fingers thrusting in and out of you.
steadily, you start to insert a single finger in. a middle finger, it felt good, you suppressed a single moan and by this point, your imagination was running wild. you allowed your body to relax for a few moments before you slipped another finger inside. seconds later, you started to gentle move around inside your clit. your pace was sweet and precise—you let out a soft moan that rang throughout your thin walls. “toji—f-fuckkk.”
your voice was shaky, imagining toji being here right now made you throb ten times more. just propped all up behind you, thrashing his fingers against your swollen folds made you more aroused than you ever thought. your thrusts against your own entrance was small, a steady pace but irregular enough to make your knees start to buckle.
throwing your head back a little, you started to whine as each second dragged. your breath became insignificantly heavy, hitched and all. you made sure to stimulate in all the right areas, adapting to a perfect rhythm, then that’s when you’re rudely interrupted. talk about a cliche.
“hey. is it anymore detergen—”
toji pauses mid sentence, literally trying to process the scenery in front of him. he stands still and his initial reaction was slow. the first thing he does is chortle lowly. “well, shit. is this a bad time?”
you’ve never felt anymore embarrassed in your life, a sudden wave of heat rushed over your body before you quickly shielded yourself with your blanket. “oh my god,” you’d squeak out, and toji averts his eyes elsewhere for a few seconds. “i thought you all left already.”
toji hums. he takes a moment, and it’s as if he’s thinking of what to say. he was amused, seeing your flustered state and he looks back at you. “we were but it got canceled last minute since a storm’s approaching,” and you let off a soft gulp, hearing his footsteps creak against your wooden floor as he got closer. “thank god it was me who came in here ‘n not your father, right princess? now that’d be embarrassing.”
“stop calling me that,” you grumble, and you don’t even realize how soft and weak your voice was. you slowly pull your fingers out before intaking another sharp breath. he glanced at you before simpering. “haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“girl,” toji utters in a low rasp. “the door was wide open. i can’t knock on air,” and you mentally eye rolled — he was so insufferable. incredibly so, toji’s eyes roam across your old room that was a bit scattered with some boxes from when you moved out four years ago. it was a bit unkempt, your father usually used your room sometimes just to store things from the attic. toji buried his hands into his pockets before chuckling. “i heard you, ya know. moaning my name all loud like that.”
you blinked thrice, sitting up before compressing your eyebrows together. “what?”
“whaaat?” he jeers, mocking you. toji inches closer towards you until he was right beside your bedside. you gaze up at him and he had a blunt sticking out from the corner of his lips. he looked so appetizing, even while dressed down. ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. you could tell he was fit, of course he was—you saw him shirtless. he was well likely in his early thirties, dressing so laid back and casual. “between you and me, sweetheart, you can do better. ‘s cute ‘n all but that’s not how ya finger yourself. been a while, yeah?”
this guy, he was so bold. casually speaking his dirty mind, not afraid to say anything.
you don’t know why, but those last few words made you throb. you loathed how right he was, it was as if he could read you like a book. between studies and actually living a university student’s life, you barely ever get time to yourself. time to please yourself.
“whatever,” you utter. “yeah... it’s been a while.”
“poor thing,” he clicks his tongue before taking a seat on your bed. it jitters from his weight for a bit before he peers a gaze at you. “hm,” he puffs out, dragging a hand against his jeans. “i’d be happy to help though. those useless fingers of yours can only please you so much, right? heh.”
this indescribable effect he had on you, it heavily irked your nerves. “…please,” and you don’t even register what quickly came out of your mouth.
you were so pent up by this point, being interrupted. you wanted to finish, you desperately wanted to finish. your soft breaths hitched, and toji’s intimate stare lingered on you for a bit. his loud cologne started to waft across the entire room, so intoxicating. “just make me finish, please.”
“there’s those manners,” he coos in a husky tone, and he gets up closer. he was purely teasing you, you just wanted to feel his touch . . . feel something at least. he pulls the fat cover that went over you, yet at a more tantalizingly slow pace. he was a mere tease, you nearly let off a whine once you felt the tips of his warm fingers skim past your thighs. “messy girl,” he mumbles, and then he pauses to glance at you. “are you sure? jus’ wanna-”
“toji,” you mutter, and you liked hearing you roll his name so sweetly off your tongue. seeing you grow purely frustrated was utter amusement to him. the way your eyebrows would curl and furrow, irises flaring and your jaw slightly tensing. you had such readable body language by default too. “please. i want you. just touch me.”
he simpers. “pretty please.”
“……”
again, he was so infuriating. you felt yourself starting to pant, not knowing how much longer you could take as he started to softly trail a thumb against your skin. his touch was so warm, it was intense and ignited something within you.
“touch me—pretty please, toji.” you mutter out, sprawling your legs out just a bit. it was so hot, the temperature surrounding the atmosphere of the room was so humid. he glances at you before smiling.
“that’s a good girl.”
his words warmed your heart in such a lewd provocative way, you just wanted his touch.
desperately yearning for it, toji leans up close, bringing a big hand to part your legs apart and he was so slow. he takes the blunt that was propped up between his teeth, setting it aside near your nightstand. you prepare to inhale deeply, not expecting him to then bring a tender kiss towards your inner thighs. he started to create a trail—a trail that gingerly went up and up and up.
“so sensitive,” he’d purr, watching your own body melt from just the softness of his lips against your skin. you wanted him to hurry, you replayed this exact scenario over and over at least a dozen times. now that it was reality, you just knew that your body wanted him. “oh. don’t give me that look,” and he smirks, watching the pout grow against your lips. “gonna stare at me all day or are ya gonna tell me how you’d like for me to start?”
“i need you to—eat me out,” you huff out in short singular breaths. you were throbbing rapidly, each moment he stalled to speak, the more aroused you grew. his warm breath just fanning against your folds had you nearly going weak.
he snickers. “need?” he repeats, and you moan once he swiftly drags a finger down your soaked cunt. it was drenched, but it could be a bit more. toji hums to himself cockily. “you don’t need shit, girl. fix your sentence ‘n talk proper..”
“i—” you gripe, starting to grow more and more frustrated. your vexed facial expression amused him. he raises his darkened brows, awaiting for your answer and the cute pout that continued to stretch across your lips was so cute. “i— i want you to eat me out, pretty please.”
“much better,” he says in a low gruff. the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, toji gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. “i’ll make ya cum quicker than you ever could, princess.”
and you knew he probably wouldn’t lie about a simple fact like that. toji’s touch, it was sloppy.
without a doubt, he was a messy eater.
just one taste of you and he was hooked—a new addiction for him and it wasn’t gambling.
you tasted sweet, candied even. he was in so deep, occasionally the tip of his nose would prod against your entrance. you slumped back against the bed, your legs twitching in pleasure. not before long, your lips started to part and you started to gnaw on your hardened knuckles. you didn’t wanna be too loud—you just remembered your father was right downstairs.
he didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but knowing you, you could be a bit overzealous with your moans.
the noises his tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling. he even broke away his lips just to spit a nice wad onto your pussy. you watched the entire time, mesmerized. he was so nasty—nasty and you only wanted more. toji continued to drag a thumb against your slit, lapping up your slick arousal that was already starting to drip down his chin. it ran further down, a bit of his trimmed facial hair now soaked with your sweetness.
“how’s it feel, princess,” he’d mutter out, briefly departing his lips away. as he does—you stare as a pretty cobweb of his own spit tugs against your own entrance. glistening and all, it was so sheeny. he was right between your precious thighs, and you couldn’t help but give his ruffled dark hair a light pull. “tell me how i make you feel. talk to me nice, girl.”
“good,” you whimper, nearly choking on your own saliva. your words were so trembly, you could hardly recognize yourself. it’s been a while since you’ve been eaten out, let alone being intimate. as you continued to let off irregular breathing patterns, you swallow. “f-feels good.”
“just good?” he’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. you let off a whine once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth. his tongue scrapes against your folds time and time again. it’s indescribable—toji’s head shook back and forth as he was nose deep into your pussy. for a moment, he sounds offended.
toji gives your cunt a sweet little kiss, and he feels it start to hastily pulse from doing so.
he knew you were getting close, all from a simple cue from his tongue. speaking of toji’s tongue . . it was lengthy.
so long, it reached areas that had your eyes mindlessly rolling back.
cute little cacophonies of, “oh my g-godddd,” repeated ghosts past your lips as you started to practically drag his face against you. the texture of his tongue—so moist and slick, already wet from obvious reasons, but grew even more dampened from your sheer arousal. it was a taste his tastebuds grew to crave more of. “gonna c-cum toji. f-fuckkk.”
“you’re gonna wait for me, little girl,” he grouses, and your irises fleetingly dilate. he gifts the entrance of your cunt with another string of spit, then he rubs a few circles against it. mean vigorous circles that made your legs pathetically twitch. “you make a mess when i tell you too.”
he was so mean.
such sternness in his tone, yet it turned you on. that slight secretive rasp that hid underneath his voice. toji breaks his lips away for a moment, glaring at you before focusing near the crevices of your thighs. he teasingly slides his tongue upward, away from your most sensitive area just to watch you squirm.
“toji,” you’d whimper, feeling his tongue just roam everywhere from below. he was so skilled, you’ve never had a man be so sloppy. at least in a way that toji was. he greedily sucks near your thighs, gently sinking his canines into the plush of your thighs before going back towards your pussy. “i can’t—can’t hold..”
you were barely able to finish your sentence, and that’s when you came — it was so sudden and abrupt. gushing all out of you and your nerves had your mind spiraling. a constant crazed loop.
it felt like a wave, a tsunami crashing down and it felt so good.
your orgasm that shortly followed was so loud, you didn’t even bother trying to cover your mouth. toji chuckles, cupping his mouth around the very top part of your achey slit before lapping his tongue against your hood. your hips temporarily quavered due to his tongue, and you still maintained a rough grip on his head.
“easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he’d grunt after feeling you roughly yank on his strands bringing a kiss towards your slick entrance. you swallowed, your legs feeling practically mush before he brings a terse spank towards your clit. “cute ‘n all, but i didn’t say you could finish yet.”
“s-sorry,” you’d breathe out, still feeling the after effects of your intense high. it was so good, your eyes were all hooded and droopy. toji saw a bit of drool seeping from the corners of your mouth and hums silently.
he sighs, leaning up before getting on top of you. he hovers himself and you stare up at him. he rests both arms over you, groping near the rickety headrest before leaning up close to your face.
“are you sorry, sweetheart?” and he gets up a bit closer, green viridescent eyes glance right into you—you smelled the mint and brief tang of alcohol residing on his tongue. using another hand to grab your chin, he softly pulls your bottom lip down before derisively grinning. “aw. nothing to say? no back talk this time?”
“i… want a kiss,” you pant, feeling his warm body just inches away from colliding against yours. just a single inch and he’d be grinding on you. “kiss me.”
“oh i dunno. sounds like a demand, babygirl,” he’d sneer, and your eyes leer near his scar. it was damp a little from him just being between your thighs a moment ago. perhaps it was a bit filthy, but you wanted to taste it. taste him. “ask me the right way.”
you pout, staring right into his eyes. “i wan— can i get a kiss, pretty please. i just want a kiss.”
“course ya can,” he utters, and that’s right when he squeezes your chin. your lips were plump and glossy. toji stares at you back for a long while, studying your cute expressions before he leans right in. the kiss was passionate, it felt so wrong but felt so right. you moaned the second his lips crashed onto yours. he finds it cute, feeling your arms rub and feel around his slim waist. you were pulling him closer — a sign that you wanted more of him. toji teasingly grinds his hefty body against you, and you whimper in his mouth once you feel his thick bulge prod against your panties that were halfway on you. “mhm.” he’d groan.
while his tongue skims against yours, you part your lips a bit for him and the incoming savory taste you’d get a treat out of.
you made sure to savor it, so sweet with a bit of spice.
running your tongue against his, breaking away to lick near his chin, softly making sure to lick near his stubble—you cleaned your own mess off of him. without him asking you either, toji grunts as he watched you through his peripherals. he’d never expect his best friend to have such a nasty girl for a daughter.
“y’er fuckin’ filthy,” he mumbles, breaking away and watching both strands of spit leave and depart. your lips curv into a cute needy scowl before he heard your father suddenly call out from downstairs.
“honey? i said, was that a scream…? is everything okay?”
your eyes widen, not even knowing your father was speaking—yelling actually. toji snickers, and now he’s the one suddenly quiet. prick.
“o-oh um,” you clear your throat, sitting up and that’s when toji starts to create soft chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly moaned before turning your head to speak. “i’m—i’m fine. i thought i saw a cockroach.”
“cockroach? do you need me to come up and—”
“no!” you’d quickly reply before clearing your throat once more. you let off a sigh, feeling toji start to suck near your collarbone. “i mean, no dad. i’m okay. thanks anyways.”
“okay honey, if you say so.”
toji chortles. “fuck. you’re bad at lying. just tell y’er old man you were getting eaten out by me.”
you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow. “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”
“maybe.”
you eye rolled, yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane—perhaps he was.
you didn’t know, and to be frank, you didn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.
toji would find himself leaned back against your pillow, studying your hips carefully before grinning.
the moment you lightly shove him back, he clicks his tongue. “oh?” he says, and you already sprung his dick out. he was very much hard, presenting you with an upward slight curve. you licked your lips, hovering over him before giving him a few strokes. a groan slips past his lips and your thumb brushes against the various veins that ran just below his foreskin. “y’er gonna ride me? can a sweet girl like you even handle it?”
“shut up,” you’d fuss, and he just smirks at you. you wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. he knew just how to irritate your nerves. toji watches you throw your leg over him, a simple hook around. you’re straddling him now and he brings two rough hands to attach near your hips. you lean in to kiss him again and he returns it, slowly tilting his head back and your arms wrap around him. he feels you reach down, grabbing ahold of his shaft before softly sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance. “s-shit. you’re big.”
“i try not to disappoint,” he slyly says, sliding a thumb near your hips. his voice was so low, so pompous and arrogant. you give him a glare but he only hums out of pure amusement. “barely the tip in ‘n y’er struggling. need my help, sweetheart?”
you ignored him and he smirks, allowing you to do your thing—you bring one hand towards his chest, gently feeling near his perfectly chiseled abs. he was so toned, tracing against his tense muscles and he watches your every move. it was as if time was stood still, he chuckles at how eager you were. you weren’t like him, you weren’t patient and thorough. you were a bit more rushed and sloppy—cute, it was very much cute to him though.
a moan goes past your lips once the wet tip of his slowly starts to sink inside. it had a few droplets of pre-cum leaking down, and you slowly rocked your hips in place to get comfortable. his eyes go lower to focus more on your body, the grip he had on your waist was so rough and sensual. because toji was so thick — it took you a good six minutes, six precise minutes to reach all the way down to the base. your lips opened a bit, and you let off a soft shrilling whimper once you did a cute attempt at jerking forward.
“take it slow,” he purrs in such a rasp, you leisurely started to lurch back and forth once he was buried all the way down to the hilt. you inhale deeply and he was so hefty. balls deep, swollen balls that was hidden and engulfed beneath your inner walls. “atta girl.” he praises, watching you try to maintain a decent rhythm.
ringing went throughout your ears, you felt all hot.
toji playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy. you were wearing some old university hoodie. it was comfortable, but much to his surprise, you didn’t have a bra underneath. he hums to himself, and you let off a moan once his hand trails ever further. further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples.
“t— toji,” you’d moan, and another hand of his was tightly clinging onto the left part of your waist. you were riding him smoothly. yet since he was so big, you started to feel your thighs building up with drowsiness. your efforts were cute to him, so desperately eager to get off.
his black lashes flicker, and the way he’s all leaned back and manspread was so attractive—you felt your back start to naturally arch and it didn’t take long for toji to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper. “found it,” he whispers, bringing you close towards his chest. you lean into his touch, intaking his cologne into your nose before your hand starts to wander all over his body. he liked how handsy you were, slipping a hand right underneath his shirt to feel a part of his abs. you made sure to trace directly on each line, each tender flexing muscle. all the way down onto his sharp v-line. further down, you started to feel his happy trail. your favorite.
he grunts, feeling the softness of your hands meander freely. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he gruffs in a sharp breath. an imaginary lump getting caught in his throat — he was holding both of your hips upright and by this point you were slamming right onto his thick cock. “touch me more. feel all over me baby.”
“can i—” you started, leaning in to kiss near the crook of his neck. your voice was soft, a bit trembly before your hands went up this time. feeling near his pecs before a breath gets caught in his throat. “can i feel here, toji?”
“f-fuckin’ girl,” he groans, a chill running down his spine the second he feels you gently rubbing a thumb against his nipples this time. toji was surprisingly far more sensitive despite his rough front he was putting up, it was a bit cute. after all, he did say feel all over you. toji was panting now, while you rode him continuously, he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “whatever.”
you giggle, watching him now be the one with a pouty expression this time. you plant a kiss near where his slanted scar went down his lip before he spanks your ass. “just ‘cause ‘m sensitive there doesn’t mean ‘m gonna get all whiney for you, girl,” he utters in a raspy tone. the sharp sting from the spank felt good.
you felt yourself twitch between your thighs whilst your hips moved in harmony. you do a little back bend with your hips, constantly jerking against him and he grunts with how slow yet sloppy your movements were. “keep goin’ slow like that. ‘m gonna—cum.”
his voice consistently got deeper, and the tips of his fingers gently pierced into your skin—you were vocal yourself though. moan after moan, a constant repeat. you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again, to toji though, it was purely music to his ears.
he feels you start to slow down a bit though, exactly at the minute he tells you he was approaching his incoming release. toji clenched his jaw, gifting the fat of your ass with another mean spank. “f-fuck. keep fuckin’ me. make me fuckin’ cum.”
you plant kisses near his neck this time, near the very inside and you swiftly quicken your pace a little. he was stuffing you full of thick inches, full of such girth that had your tongue salivating right in your mouth. you could only imagine what it’d feel like to have his seed pouring into you. you couldn’t lie to yourself, ever since you saw toji shirtless. his bulge sticking out through his towel, you only imagined he’d be so full of cum to give. you tilt your hips backwards, and he lets off a husky groan.
that particular spot reached so deep, you felt it too. his cockhead pokes and taps repeatedly against your sweet spot and you sob out a needy, “f-fuck, ‘s right there,” you tilt forward and he’s just about reaching his peak. the longer you took, the more spanks you received.
toji was a patient man, but only for so long.
the bed frame creaked constantly, it was the only tune that played in the background. he slithers a hand down between your thighs and spanks your cunt a few times. you whimpered, already a bit sensitive but felt something else approaching. “toji— toji.”
toji groans, the build up nearly taking his breath away. with your rhythmic thrusts against him, his eyes merely roll and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. you wrap a hand around his throat—tenderly of course—then place your lips onto his once he finally finishes inside of you.
he didn’t expect for you to choke him, but he liked it.
he liked how forward you were, your thumb lightly grazed against his adam’s apple, and a deep grunt gets trapped in his throat. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. toji shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you kissed him.
slowly, he started to feel himself get addicted.
he already was addicted from having a simple taste of you earlier, but he was getting infatuated. you had him whipped, and he knew this probably wouldn’t be a one time thing.
albeit, the last thing you expect is to pull away from the kiss once you feel a sudden pressure brewing up within you.
momentarily, you whine—feeling a sudden familiar wetness coat his base. nerves all throughout your body had you locked in a trance, and you pause your hips before toji tsks.
“little girl,” he mumbles with a sly smile. “did you just squirt on me?”
it was so unexpected, you pant heavily—heave after heave leaving your lips before you moan out a sweet, “y-yes.”
“don’t be shy about it. i like when it’s messy,” he sneers, his eyes tantalizingly trailing down your body once more before he lifts you up just a bit from his shaft. he observes the lewd mess, how much cum trickled past your thighs and he hums. “wanna do that again? i bet i can do it in five minutes, baby.”
to say you were being treated like a rag doll was an understatement.
toji was ruthless with you, ruthless with you in your own house. well, ex-house. you didn’t live here anymore but you used to.
he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. making you imitate and try positions you’ve never even heard of—you were getting stretched, easily said. it’s been hours by this point, you weren’t even in your room anymore. you were in the bathroom with him.
toji had you propped up against the door, you’re taking him from behind and you’re roughly biting down on your lip.
entirely so, it was still risky.
your father was right outside near the living room doing who knows what. probably watching some sports program—yet of course, he started to grow curious of where his best pal went. initially, toji said he had to use the restroom.
like four hours ago . .
he was so mean too, spanking your ass numerous times. your ass was perked upright for him, and you’re leaning against the door. you whimpered, feeling him grip on your panties that he refused to pull off of you.
oh, he likes seeing it dangle and thwack against your skin. the pretty fabric just cutely rubbing against your thighs. his weight just barely hovers against you and he’s smacking right into you.
your cunt swallowed his hefty inches each and every time—by this point, you weren’t sure if you could even give him one more.
you lost count of how many mind blowing orgasms that you were just completely intoxicated from his dick and his dick alone.
toji’s rough bare hands grab onto both parts of your ass, spreading it before deepening his strokes just a bit. you moaned, feeling every inch store inside of your sweet cunt. he knew just where to hit you. you breathe through your mouth and your nose at the same time, heavy cute pants that started to fog up the door’s material.
“fuck, fuck me f-fuckkk,” you’d drag out, and your back naturally arches just from a teasing touch of his finger racing down your back.
your ass was held up high and your cheek was softly nudging against the cold door. another build up was approaching and you were just so in awe—you were literally thinking, where has he been all your life? “close, ‘m getting closer.”
“bet you are. drippin’ all on me ‘n it’s fuckin’ nasty,” he replies—yet you freeze once you hear footsteps approach the door. it was your father, right when you were about to cum—you feel toji’s hand wrap around your mouth. your eyes roll backwards, and then he speaks through the other end of the door.
“toji? hehe, did ya fall in there man? you’re missing the game. we’re down by four points.”
toji chuckles, hearing a tiny muffled squeak go past your lips. he was balls deep, giving you such thick vigorous inches. that’s when he leans right up close to you—a hand still propped to have your mouth shut before whispering in a raspy tone. “you gotta be quiet, sweetheart. you want y’er old man to hear you make a sloppy mess on me?”
you shake your head, making an attempt to try and suck on his fingers and be smiles. “messy baby.”
your mouth was now stuffed with nothing but his thick fingers. you moaned, coating each digit with your glistening saliva as he pounded right into you. the grip your cunt had on him made him groan. eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch, it was so erotic. the build up of your incoming release yet again.
it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for him. the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.
“huh—oh, nah man i’m good,” toji replies with a simper. you were trying so hard to be quiet, if your father heard anything, that’d be a wrap for you.
dying out of pure embarrassment certainly wasn’t on your bucket list for sure. the way toji responded was so casual, almost as if he wasn’t just happily drilling into his best friend’s cunt in his own home. “four points? shit. defense can’t do anything right.”
“telllll me about it! i could play better with my eyes closed, damn.”
you found it so irksome how they were casually having a dumb conversation whilst you were just about to gush right onto toji’s shaft—you felt him dip his hips into you deeper though, and you let off a sweet whine.
toji leans into your ear and whispers. “you’re doing a good job, sweetheart,” and then he chuckles. removing his hand, you nearly let off the most loudest orgasm imaginable but you kept it together by biting your tongue. it was a cute squeal, and as your legs part you made such a mess.
again…
it was probably the umpteenth time.
while you ride out your release, he’s slowing down his strokes and stares at the excess cum filling up your entrance. toji licks his lips, dragging a thumb to plug it all back in once he pulls out. he didn’t like putting things to waste. you whimper, feeling so taken aback from how stuffed full you were.
it was an awkward silence, you felt a sharp scare in your stomach once you thought your father heard everything — but thankfully so, he plopped right back down on the couch. toji lets you take a moment to calm down, and then he brings a wet kiss towards your lips. you were so sensitive, trembling within his hold—you didn’t want him to leave just now.
“atta girl,” he purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he brings a thumb towards your lip. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of green eyes looked like it had a story to tell, and perhaps you wanted to know just who toji fushiguro really was.
maybe that story is ready for another day though.
thankfully you didn’t get caught.
or did you—you had to leave out the bathroom first, then toji after about a lengthy minute time difference so it wouldn’t be remotely suspicious. once the both of you were out, after about an hour of you all crammed up and watching the boring never ending basketball game, your dad ends up going to the bathroom.
while he was occupied, you leaned against toji and he wraps an arm around you. he could tell you wanted more—but his gaze was stern, telling you with his eyes to basically be a good girl and be patient.
a few seconds pass before you father bellows out a pitched, “erm. toji? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff over the sink? doesn’t look like shampoo.”
the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before you nudge toji to speak after long seconds passes.
“huh? oh, that’s uh mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”
“aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”
you mentally facepalm, watching toji break into a sheepish sweat before he gruffs out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”
“right. riiiight,” your father mutters, and you heard sudden shifting. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall — probably a brush from the familiar after sound, you then hear your dad add a follow up question. “wait a minute,” and he glances down near the floor. “are these panties?”
#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader#cw sex mention#jjk x reader smut
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scary? my god, you're divine
Hitman/Mob!Bucky x Reader
Run-through: Your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right?
Themes: arranged marriage, age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, bucky’s in his late thirties), mentions of violence and death, hitman!Bucky, smut, fluff, explicit language, virgin!reader, HEA
Something woke you up in the middle of the night.
And you’d been staring at the dark ceiling above your bed for the past few minutes now. What had woken you up? It could’ve been the strong winds hitting the large Georgian windows. Or perhaps it was the soft ticking of the nearby clock. Or maybe even the weight of all the incessant thoughts running through your head.
Gods, you thought, what a day.
It had started out like any other. Your father was pacing around, worried and barking orders on the phone, trying to find a way to put a stop to this chaos that was quickly forming into a full war between him and his number one rival. Small attacks had turned to frequent drive-bys, threats had turned into taking turns and blowing up each other’s warehouses and clubs. And it would only get worse and worse.
But this morning, as he watched you come downstairs and into the dining room for breakfast, something in his eyes was different. And you could tell what was coming. You had been thinking about this for days. So when he sat you down and discussed how you could do your part in helping to put an end to all of this.
“It’s only a matter of time before he sends his son, his favourite weapon after us all,” Your father sounded defeated. “And none of us would survive him. No one ever does. You know that.”
You nodded, understanding what he meant. “I know.”
The son of your father’s rival, Bucky Barnes, was a name which could make even powerful men like your father tremble in fear. He was like a ghost. No one ever saw him. No one knew what he looked like. Those who had seen him claimed that he always wore a muzzle-like mask to conceal his identity. He was known for being his father’s most prized weapon. They say he never misses, that his aim is and has always been as sure as Eros’ arrows. He was like an evil Cupid.
“The marriage would only be on paper of course, you don’t have to live with him.” Your father explained, seeming desolated, “But you being married to him would make us family, and…” He trailed off, sighing.
But you knew what he meant. Family meant everything in this society. If your family and the rival’s were joined to each other by marriage, all attacks would cease. Because keeping family safe was everyone’s number one priority, even in this line of work.
So this was all up to you now. Your family’s safety, the safety of people who worked with and for your father, all the allies, and friends, and acquaintances. It was a heavy weight to carry.
“I’ll do it.”
Things happened so quickly after that. Phone calls were had, arrangements and deals were made, and by the afternoon, a sheet of paper was brought to you. That’s it. No groom, no fancy shit. Just a piece of paper on which Bucky Barnes had already signed. And with your signature added next to his, you two were now forever husband and wife by law.
It was weird, being married to a man you had never seen before. He was just a name. Granted, a name with immense magnitude in the society, but still just a name. No face to go with it.
By the evening, your things were packed. It was an order by your new husband. He wanted his new bride in his home, and things were so freshly mended that neither you nor your father wanted to argue. So Bucky sent cars and a bunch of his soldiers to escort you to his house. It was not unexpected that he was so absent from all this. Bucky Barnes had a reputation of living in the shadows. He was so rarely seen.
Bucky’s house was not too far from your family home. In fact, the closer you got to your new home, the more you realised that despite everything, you did not mind this as much as you thought you would.
Your husband’s home was this stunning piece of architecture. A lavish Georgian-style mansion. Beige stone, carved details and mouldings around the many windows and main entrance. Dark shingles on the roof, well-manicured lawn, a long driveway giving it a sense of both elegance and exclusivity. The mansion sat on a beautiful, seemingly endless estate. Lush and green. It was a testament to the wealth and the power of its owner.
You were politely led inside the home by one of the many staff members who took care of the house. And the interior was just as breathtaking. Luxurious, with the right amount of vintage accents.
“We did what we could with the limited time we had to prepare a room for you.” The kind lady had said to you. She also mentioned that this room would be entirely yours. Bucky apparently had his own on the other side of the mansion.
You murmured that it was alright, and when she finally showed you to the room they had ready for you, you were pleasantly impressed. The layout, the colour theme, the decor, all of it was to your liking. You even had a personal little balcony which looked over the endless green backyard.
That night you dined alone, which was not a surprise. Everyone knew Bucky Barnes was a busy man, and he was apparently above trivial things like dining with his new wife. But the silence was welcomed. After dinner you found yourself back in your bedroom, and soon in bed with a book.
Well, maybe this was your new life now. Grand mansion with an impressive library. Solo dinners and kind staff members. A giant, dreamy bedroom all for you. Dare you say, it wasn’t too bad.
–
But here you were now, unable to fall back asleep after some mysterious thing woke you up. You sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. You couldn’t even blame your new surroundings for your inability to sleep. Everything here was so quiet, and comfortable. Even this new bed felt like laying on the fluffiest cloud. Perhaps you could read some more–
You froze when you heard it.
Someone breathing. Someone else’s breaths. A soft exhale, but it was enough to make your heart race in panic. It was the middle of the night. And there was someone in this dark room with you.
Slowly, you tried to reach for the lamp on your bedside table to turn it on, but then you heard a voice say, “Don’t.”
A smooth, relaxed, male voice. Sounding like it came from one corner of the room. It could only be one man, couldn’t it?
“Bucky?” You questioned, for some reasons pulling the covers up to your chin as if he was not a man but a ghost.
A pause, then he said, like he was gently teasing you, “Hello, wife. Can’t sleep?”
You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness better. You strained your eyes until you could see the silhouette of a man in the corner of the room. He was sitting in one of the sofas near the unlit fireplace, quiet, still like a marble statue.
There was almost no light coming into the room. The thick curtains allowed very little moonlight in, and it was hard to see. But you couldn’t ignore that large silhouette now that you’d noticed him. Something near him was shiny, almost metal like, you couldn’t tell what it was.
“Do you always lurk around in the shadows like a ghost?” You asked, wondering where the hell you found the confidence to talk to one of the finest hitmen like this. It’s not like he would shoot you if he didn’t like you. A small voice said. Would he?
A chuckle. Deep, and careless. A boyish sound.
“It’s my house,” He responded in that same gentle but teasing tone, “I lurk wherever I please.”
Well, he did have a point there.
“Well then,” You said in a casual tone, “If you’re done lurking and spying on me, I’d like to go back to bed.”
A soft scoff. Then he said, “I’ve watched you toss and turn for the past half an hour. I’d say you’re having trouble turning your brain off.”
Half an hour?!
“Wouldn’t you?” You retorted, keeping your voice calm and steady. “If you were forced to marry someone who’s so mysterious that no one’s ever seen them before, wouldn’t you have some trouble turning your brain off?”
“Ah.” He got up, and you could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he was approaching the bed, “No one forced you to marry me. A suggestion was made and you agreed to it.”
You replied quickly, “The alternative was watching everyone I love and myself be murdered by you, so semantics.”
Another chuckle as he stopped at the edge of the bed, so close to you. You refused to move. You tilted your head up but could still only see his silhouette. He spoke in that teasing tone again, “They said you were smart, and beautiful. Guess they forgot to mention you were bratty too.”
You frowned. “What?”
Silence. Then he began moving away from your bed and towards the door. “Good night, wife.”
“Good night,” You muttered, slightly annoyed and confused, “Ghost.”
You heard his soft chuckle right as he shut the door behind him and left you all alone again in the dark. You didn’t dare turn the lamp on even after he left.
—
“Is Bucky ever home?”
You asked one of the staff members at breakfast the next morning. The lady smiled at you and answered, “He keeps to himself. We rarely ever know if he’s home or not. He works at odd hours, you see? Besides, our job is to take care of the house. We clean, we make the meals and leave them in the fridge, we get our paychecks each month. Everyone is happy. We don’t pry.”
You nodded, sipping on some tea. “So… are you one of the people who don’t know what he looks like?”
“Oh no. I saw him recently.” She said, smiling.
“How recent?” You asked.
“A couple of months ago. He’s a busy man, he’s rarely ever home.”
Unbelievable.
“Doesn’t it feel like you’re employed by a ghost?”
She smiled again, refilled your cup and said, “Oh, we’re used to Mr. Barnes. Sure, sometimes it feels like the house is way too empty. But look, now you’re here! We get to take proper care of someone for once.”
She was so cheery and kind that you couldn’t help but smile at her words. How on earth did a man that grim manage to have the best staff members in the whole world?
—
The following night, Bucky came to see you again.
You woke up upon hearing the door of your bedroom opening. You sat up again, leaning against the headboard. You didn’t reach for the lamp on your bedside table this time. Instead you said, “Lurking again, I see.”
“Oh yes,” He answered, taking a seat on the same sofa by the dark fireplace. “How was your day, wife?” He asked, as if this was the most normal way to have a conversation.
“Good.” You said, “I spoke with your staff members. They say they barely ever see you at home.”
He sighed, “I barely ever am at home.”
You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see it. He was too… intangible. Faceless. There was nothing you knew about him aside from his profession. And not knowing was starting to annoy you.
“Why can’t I see you?” You asked. “I mean it’s not fair. I married you. I’ll eventually see you someday.”
He was silent for a moment. Then asked, “Will you?”
“Well, yes.”
“What for?” There was that teasing tone again. So subtle. But it was there.
Your face burned. “Well… we’re married.” You stated the obvious. “And it won’t be long till our families start asking for, you know, grandbabies.”
“Babies can be made in the dark.” His smooth voice felt like a gentle caress. Like the finest, cool silk sliding over your warm body…
Oh no. You can’t like his voice. Not yet.
“That’s not what I–,” You sighed, “Why are you so against showing your face? Are you ugly?”
He chuckled then. Loudly, if you could see him you’d surely see his shoulders shaking. “You think too much, wife.” He got up again, ready to leave. “Good night.”
You sighed, defeated, and listened to the sounds of him leaving the room. Then almost angrily whispered, “Good night, husband.”
—
“It’s because he’s ugly, isn’t it?” You asked two of the staff members one morning while they set the table for your breakfast. “That’s why he doesn’t show his face?”
The two ladies chuckled to themselves, and one of them said, “No he isn’t.” She sounded confident too.
“Have you seen his face? Like properly?”
They both nodded.
“And? You don’t find it weird that he doesn’t show his face?” You questioned. “He refuses to let me see him. He only comes to talk to me in the dark. Like some messed up Eros.” You whispered the last part to yourself.
One of the ladies said, gently, “Give him time. He’s not… terrible.”
—
“Your staff speaks highly of you.” You said to him when he came to see you that night. Again, sat in that corner like a ghost whose only purpose was to haunt your bedroom specifically.
“Do they?”
“Yes,” You made yourself comfortable, leaning against the headboard like you had the habit of doing. “Do you pay them to sing your praises?”
He chuckled. “Is it that hard to believe that I’m not some sort of monster?”
You sighed. “If not then why can’t I see you?”
“Not yet.” He said.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.” He replied, and by the sounds of it, he stood up. Surely ready to leave. “Now, is there anything you need?”
You tried to see if you could tell where he was standing but the room was too dark. However, it seemed like, judging by the sound of footsteps, that he’d gotten closer to the end of your bed. “There’s nothing to do around the house. The ladies take care of everything. I appreciate the library, but…”
He was quiet, like he was thinking. Then said, “I’ll see to it.”
“I’m assuming you won’t let me go back to work in my family’s companies.” You could tell he wouldn’t.
“No,” He said, as expected. “You’re my wife now. I’m well equipped to provide for you and see to your needs for the rest of our lives. But if you have any hobbies, please, indulge away.”
Something about his calm tone made you confess your little secret, “I like to paint. I’ve always wanted to be an artist.”
You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Perhaps the dark helped you open up better. Maybe the fact that you didn’t know him made it easier to talk. Like how people tend to prefer texting over calls. Him being so invisible made it so much more effortless.
You continued, “I always wonder what it must be like to have an exhibition of my works.” You chuckled. “I know it sounds vain but… I’ve always wanted to let my mind and soul leak all over canvases, and share it with the world. I think it’s such a brave thing when people do that.”
He was quiet for a few seconds, then spoke in that teasing tone, “Painting, huh?”
You rolled your eyes. “You don’t get to make fun of me, ghost.”
He chuckled. “Get some sleep, wife.”
And then he left.
—
The following morning, you woke up to two surprises.
The first one was waiting for you at the breakfast table. You noticed the box on the floor immediately. It was partially opened, and had a note stuck to it.
The note read: ‘Since there’s nothing to do around the house…’ written in a messy handwriting. Surely Bucky’s.
You opened the box and in there, on a folded blanket, was a sleeping, fluffy little puppy. A black lab it seemed. With a pink collar around her neck. You gasped as you gently picked it up and couldn’t resist bringing it up to your face. Puppies always smelt so good.
The little one yawned and let out some cute noises as you held her up to look at her properly. By now the two ladies whom you saw frequently around the house walked up to you and one of them said, “He left something else for you.”
You followed the ladies, new puppy in hand, and they led you to what seemed like a newly built studio. It was in an area of the mansion where you didn’t go very often. And as you walked in, you gasped in surprise for the second time that morning.
It was located on the ground floor. A bright and spacious space. The beige walls felt like a giant blank canvas in itself. The large Georgian windows allowed the perfect amount of light in. And everything in the room was neatly organised. Art supplies, paints, canvases, palettes, easels.
Oh, it was perfect.
The ladies left you to explore on your own, saying something about bringing you breakfast in here. But you were distracted by the bright yellow sticky note on one of the easels. You walked up to it and it read: ‘For your mind and soul to leak all over. Paint me something. I’ll consider it a wedding gift.’
You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read and re-read the note left by your mysterious husband. You whispered to your sleeping puppy, “Maybe our ghost isn’t so bad, huh?”
-
Hours went by.
The ladies brought you and the puppy your meals, a bed for the pup, snacks for you, all while you were busy letting your creativity flow as much as possible.
The first few canvases were horrible according to you. You hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in so long so it felt like day one all over again. But gradually, over the next few canvases, you could see what your brain was trying to create.
The blank canvas soon turned into flowy shapes. Curves, facial features, hands. Entwining bodies. Two of them. And the colour purple, lots of it. It didn’t make too much sense at first, but the more you worked on it the more you realised what you were painting.
It was your version of ‘The Abduction of Psyche’. How fitting.
By the time you were done and happy with it, your back was aching from sitting on that stool all day. It was almost time for dinner. The sun had set. The puppy was awake so you held her up to show her the canvas and asked, “You think our ghost will like it?”
She let out the tiniest, softest howl.
“Yeah, I think so too.”
You left to shower and have dinner. Then once it was time for bed you asked one of the staff members, “Does Bucky have some kind of an office?”
She replied saying yes he does, and that she could show you where it was. You grabbed the not yet dry canvas and carefully carried it all the way to where Bucky’s office was. The lady again left you all by yourself to explore.
At first you didn’t want to spend too much time in there. It was Bucky’s space after all. But then you thought, if he was comfortable walking into your bedroom at odd times during the night, why shouldn’t you check out his office?
So you did. You left the canvas where it could dry without any problem and where Bucky would see it upon entering the room. Then you began exploring. The room was not what you were expecting for someone like Bucky. You thought it would be less… old school.
He had a vintage looking typewriter on his desk for gods’ sake. Not one he used of course, but it added layers to his character you thought. Dark wooden furniture, comfortable looking chairs, more bookshelves filled with cloth-bound books. It was… cosy.
So cosy in fact that you grabbed a book and made yourself comfortable on one of the chairs. You’d read for an hour or so then head off to bed, you thought.
But soon, you drifted off to sleep. Right there. In Bucky’s office.
-
You woke up and felt something soft and fluffy moving around on your lap. You opened your eyes and quickly realised you weren’t in bed. The room was dark. With very little light coming in from the outside. There were no curtains in this room, but also it was situated in an area of the mansion where very little moonlight came in.
Before you could panic though, a voice spoke up from not too far away, “You’ve been busy today, I see.”
Ah, Bucky. And fuck. You’d fallen asleep in his office.
You refused to feel embarrassed. So you asked, “Did you like your wedding gift?”
“Yes.” He replied, and gauging by the sound you could tell he was sitting at his desk, in the darkest corner of the room. “I’ll hang it in my office.”
You smiled in the dark, feeling a little proud of yourself. “And where’s my wedding gift?”
“In your lap.”
Fair.
“What should we name her?” You asked, reaching to caress your puppy who let out an adorable grunt. “Hedone? Donnie, for short?”
He let out a chuckle. “You are really leaning into this whole Eros-Psyche thing, huh?”
You shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d just show me your face. But you keep choosing not to, so deal with it.”
A pause. Then he asked, “You like your new studio?”
That made you sit up straighter. “I love it. Thank you.” Then you added, “My family always thought painting was a waste of time. They said it kept my head in the clouds too much. That it was… pointless.”
He was quick to say, “It’s not. Besides, your hobbies don’t have to make sense to anyone else but yourself. And I’ve seen the other canvases you left in the studio. They’re good.”
You turned to face the dark corner he was in. “You think?”
“Yes,” He said. “We can hold an exhibition if you want. Let me know when you’re ready.”
You let out a surprised chuckle. And when he didn’t laugh you realised he was serious. “Bucky, it's not so easy.” You explained calmly. “There’s so much work that goes into it, there needs to be some cohesion to the art pieces. There’s marketing, there’s research, there’s…” You exhaled, “There’s a lot of work to be done. Art exhibitions aren’t as easy or quick as you think it is.”
He replied, “Leave all that to me. Just let me know when you want to hold one.”
Just like that?
“I… okay.”
You felt warm in a way you’d never felt before. No one had ever taken your interests so seriously before. You’d never even been able to discuss this freely about your hobbies. And here Bucky was, ready to listen and interact with it.
You got up to leave because this was… a lot to process. “Well then. Good night, Bucky.”
A soft scoff. “Think I liked it more when you called me a ghost.”
You smiled as you approached the door, puppy in hand and amazed at how well you were able to navigate in the dark. “Night, ghost.”
He gave you a satisfied hum, then, “Good night, wife.”
—
It was bizarre to admit but you’d gotten used to those conversations in the dark with your husband. Days went by quickly given how engrossed you were with painting. Especially with the thought of a potential exhibition now in the back of your mind. Gods, that would be a dream.
And while your days consisted of painting, playing and training your puppy, exploring more and more of the grounds and your new home, making quick trips to the stores to get more supplies, catching up with your friends who were still trying to grasp the fact that you got married so quickly, getting to know the household staff and the guards better, your night consisted of waiting and fighting your sleep until Bucky came to talk to you.
It was always short conversations. Filled with easy banter and teasing tones, sarcastic comments and you asking each and every night if he was in the mood to show his face. Bucky always said no. And you always sent him off with a ‘good night, ghost’.
You had gotten used to your ghost. As had your puppy. She would bark happily each time Bucky would enter your bedroom door at night. She’d run to him for playtime and cuddles as he sat in his dark corner and spoke with you until you fell asleep.
Bucky would often leave you some kind of a note, for you to read in the morning. At the breakfast table, or in your studio. Sometimes he would leave compliments and comments on your dry canvases. Eventually, you stopped fighting the smiles which formed on your face as you read his notes.
But all of it only made you want to see him more. Not that it would change anything. Bucky had quickly become… a friend, you’d say. A confidant if you will. He had become a habit. Part of your routine.
And then one night, he didn’t come to see you.
You waited. He usually came around midnight. It was well past 2 a.m. and he never came.
At some point you went downstairs, pretending as if you just needed some water. One of the guards caught you trying to peek out into the driveway from the kitchen window.
“Boss is not home yet, ma’am.” He said.
You acted like you didn’t care. But still asked, “He does this often?”
“Sometimes.”
You nodded. You took your drink and with your puppy in your arms you walked back upstairs, passing by the many guards who were on duty inside the house at nighttime.
“It’s alright, he’s probably just busy.” You whispered to the sleeping pup as you made your way up. “Or maybe he’s hurt and tending to his wounds somewhere else.” You felt a gentle pinch in your chest at the thought of Bucky hurt and alone out there. So you forced yourself to think of something else. Something way worse. “Or maybe he’s with someone else.” You scoffed, nuzzling the soft fur of your pup, “This marriage means nothing to him anyway. But that’s alright, we don’t need him. I’ve got you. We’ve got each other. Don’t we?”
Safe to say, you went to bed slightly annoyed that night. And in denial too because you refused to admit that you missed him.
–
There was a note waiting for you in your studio the next morning.
It read: ‘No I did not spend the night with someone else. I’ll explain later. See you tonight, wife.’
Huh. Looks like the guards have really good ears.
Well, whatever. It’s not like you were impatiently waiting for night to come just so you could talk to your ghost of a husband. Right?
Except you were though. So much that you couldn’t paint a decent thing. You were easily giving up on each canvas, and leaving a trail of unfinished work the more time went on.
Eventually you sighed and left the studio. You tried reading but that wasn’t happening either. So you did the only thing you knew would take your mind off things. You asked the ladies to show you where everything was kept in the kitchen and you got to baking.
Which you did until it was time for bed. Your mood was off, and it was all because of a faceless man. And that somehow annoyed you even more.
You grabbed a plate of the mini muffins you’d made earlier and made your way upstairs. Your puppy had just gotten used to the stairs so she happily followed you everywhere you went now.
You proceeded to sit in bed, and eat your muffins angrily and forced yourself to try to sleep.
-
You woke up sometime later. And you just knew who was in the room with you.
Except he wasn’t in his usual spot.
He was standing by the windows which faced your bed this time, with his back to you. The curtains were pulled, the moonlight came and there was his dark silhouette. And… you frowned as you noticed the shiny metal arm.
“You’re home.” You said.
Bucky turned his head to the side, “I am.” He said.
You took a second or two to admire the side profile. With the moonlight shining all around his silhouette he looked like a fallen angel of sorts. “You didn’t come home last night.”
“I was out working,” He said.
“Maiming and killing?”
“You know me so well.”
“Is that a… metal arm?” You questioned.
“It is.”
“Were you hurt?”
“I was.”
You sighed again. “Is it always going to be bland answers and mystery with you?”
“Get used to it.” He said in that teasing tone.
You got out of bed as quietly as you could. “I think I liked you better without the attitude, when you sat in the corner like a ghost.” You took some steps away from the bed, approaching the giant windows. The room was rather spacious so it would take some more steps to get close to him. If you’d only–
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” He warned, but remained in the same spot.
You groaned. “Don’t you think this is getting tiring? I mean, I’m married to a man I’ve never seen before. In fact, no one has ever seen you. Why? What are you hiding?” You added, sounding defeated.
Bucky lowered his head, which only accentuated how broad his shoulders really were. He sighed. “Do you know how much trouble could’ve been avoided if only Psyche trusted Eros?”
You rolled your eyes. “I think she had her reasons. A mysterious, faceless lover who only shows up in the dark and hides in the shadows is bound to raise some doubts. Don’t you think so?”
He chuckled. You blinked and he’d turned around to face you. But despite that, you couldn’t see his face at all. Even though he was inches away.
He was quiet. Observing you with interest. The moonlight allowed him to see all of you, and he just… stared for a moment or two. A shiver ran down your back. An unfamiliar, but pleasant shiver.
Without a word said, Bucky reached out and gently touched the thin strap of your silky night dress resting on your shoulder. His metal finger gliding along your skin and making you gasp at his cold touch.
“What’s this?” He asked in his usual teasing tone. “Trying to tempt me with this excuse of a night dress, wife?”
Fuck. Had his voice dropped lower?
Fuck! He was so close to you. You didn’t even notice that your heart had begun racing. Your breaths had deepened. Shit. Why was this so hot?!
“Are you? Tempted?” You asked with a steady voice, without thinking obviously. You just needed to say something so he wouldn’t notice the way you were basically panting after him like a thirsty dog.
He chuckled. But remained quiet.
So you said, “Thought so.” You sounded smug but you were feeling the complete opposite.
Bucky scoffed in that arrogant way he often did. It was insane how easily you were able to pick up on his mannerism when you hadn’t even known him for that long. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want to sleep with you?”
Oh.
Oh this was bad. Because now your brain was making up hot, steamy scenes in your head. Scenes involving you and your faceless, mysterious husband in the dark. Entwining bodies on soft bed sheets. Fuck, you should paint that. No, what?
“Then why haven’t you?” You found yourself asking.
Okay then, bold as fuck it is. You’d gone past the point of no return now. Guess it was time for this conversation.
Bucky’s fingers remained on your shoulder, tracing the thin strap there. And you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the smirk in his voice when he asked, “You want me to?” His metal hand dropped to your waist and before you could fully process it, he pulled you closer, leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You want my hands all over you, wife?”
You could feel his slight stubble against your skin as he spoke. His lips brushing against your ear, making you gasp and tremble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders. And oh, he was pulling you even closer. Your chest pressing against his. The cool material of his suit felt amazing against your warm skin.
“Look at you,” He cooed into your ear. “Is this what you want? Hmm?” He placed both his hands on your waist, pulling you into him. His lips moved lower, brushing against your neck as he spoke. “You like how rough my hands feel?” He moved his hands up and down your sides. “Do you know how many people I’ve hurt with these hands?” He chuckled when he heard the tiniest moan leave your mouth. “You’re so soft and warm, aren’t you worried what these hands might do to you?”
He nuzzled your neck, hands roaming all over your sides and back and squeezing your butt. You became so pliant under his touch. Tilting your head back to allow him to kiss all over your neck, pressing your chest more and more against his like you couldn’t get enough. The layers of clothing, you wanted them gone.
With a shaky voice you murmured, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to scare me or turn me on.”
He laughed. And it was the best sound you’d ever heard.
“You’re sick in that pretty head, huh?” He teased. “That beautiful brain is filled with filthy, dirty, dark thoughts, isn’t it?” His metal hand reached up and carefully wrapped around your throat.
You gasped as he squeezed just a little bit. Those dirty thoughts he spoke about really started to fill your head.
“Are you just all talk or–,”
He cut you off by dragging you all the way to your bed, still holding you by the throat.
The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he gave you a slight push, ending with you falling onto your bed on your back. You looked up at him, hovering above you, his lower body pressing into yours.
“Do you just run that mouth?,” He asked, supporting himself with one hand while the metal one remained wrapped around your throat, his voice low and menacing but in a way that made your legs part on their own so his hips settled in between them. Your bodies fit together like the most perfect puzzle pieces. “Or do you know how to take it like a brat as well?”
You felt the need to let him know then. “I don’t know,” You said, sounding both breathless and bratty. “I’ve never had to take it.”
He paused for a moment. Then asked in subtle surprise, “What do you mean?” Even his grip around your throat loosened completely.
You squirmed in slight embarrassment but that only caused your hips to grind against his and for a moment there both of you let out a strained moan. Fuck. The tension between the two of you was almost physical now. Even in the dark, even with Bucky being nothing more than just a shadow above you.
“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, still feeling his cold fingers all over your skin, “I’ve never been with anyone before.”
He was quiet. As if thinking. You tried your hardest but you couldn’t see any of his facial features. You knew he had a slight stubble because you’d felt it earlier. But aside from that, you knew nothing. Not even his eye colour.
“You want us to stop?” He asked, shifting his body slightly as if he was ready to pull away if you asked him to.
“No,” You answered way too quickly. Then you got bold again and let your hands find their way back to his shoulders. You pulled him down, closer to you just a little and said, “This is okay.”
His fingers moved up, from your neck to your mouth. “Yeah? You want this, huh?” He mumbled, tracing your mouth with his fingers. You shivered under his touch. “You’ve been a whiny little brat lately, haven’t you, wife? Pouting and all just because I wouldn’t show myself to you.” He whispered, leaning in to just brush his lips against yours. You gasped at the sensation of his soft lips rubbing against yours. Bucky chuckled at your reaction. “Don’t think my staff doesn’t report back to me. I’ve been well aware of all the times you asked the ladies to give you details about me.”
Now that made you squirm in embarrassment. Still you said, sounding a little annoyed at being caught. “Can you blame me?”
“Can’t you just trust me?” He argued.
The danger and authority in his tone had your thighs clenching together to try and alleviate the torturous pain in between your legs. You were almost certain you had never been this turned on and annoyed at the same damn time before. You sighed in frustration. “This isn’t fair.”
“No, it isn’t,” He said, pulling away and began undressing you to your pleasant surprise. “Deal with it.”
Oh fuck.
Fuck… You had to hold back from whimpering each time his hands rubbed against your skin. He took his time in sliding the straps of your night dress down your shoulders, dragging the silky fabric down your body, leaving you more and more naked under him.
You shivered once he left your night dress bunched around your waist carelessly. It wasn’t just because of the slightly cold air. It was because even though you couldn’t see him, you could tell he was staring right at you.
You spoke in a hushed voice, not daring to speak loud in fear that it might break whatever spell you were under. “So you get to see me naked all you want, but I can’t see your face?”
He chuckled. “You want me to leave this room right now? Leave you here all wet and squirming? Or do you want me to take care of it and make you come? Huh?”
That shut you up really quickly.
“I thought so.” He sounded smug again when he said that. “I should spank you for the brat you are. But since it’s your first time… I’ll be nice.”
His hands touched you everywhere, your thighs, your stomach, your sides, your chest, your neck… everywhere. He left you gasping and trembling under him.
“Please.” You caught yourself whispering.
Bucky leaned down, his soft mouth brushing against your cheek as he said, “Please what?”
You squirmed, “Touch me, please.”
He chuckled. You felt his warm breath against your skin as he kissed his way down your naked body. “Look at you,” He murmured, lips brushing against your stomach, “You’re so eager already.”
You heard the faint chuckle which left his mouth the moment he noticed your legs spread apart for him naturally. Your face felt like it was burning but fuck, you were too turned on to even be properly embarrassed. Also, being in complete darkness helped.
Damn. You were really getting intimate with your husband whom you hadn’t even seen yet. And somehow that fact was making you want this even more.
But that mystery stopped being an issue the moment Bucky leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.
He poked at your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than before. Back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan at the foreign feeling. Fuck he felt good. You whimpered as you felt his tongue stroke your most sensitive parts. Your immediate reaction was to pull your hips back from the overwhelmingly good sensation his mouth was causing. And that made him grip your thighs tighter, keeping them pinned to the bed.
“Stop moving.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.
You whined as you felt his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to his mouth. The metal hand on your warm skin made you shiver and tremble so much that you were thankful for the darkness.
The small amount of moonlight which came in allowed you to only see the silhouette of his broad shoulders, and his head moving slowly, sensually in between your legs. Fuck… somehow the mystery only made it hotter.
Oh you were fucked in the head for real.
And oh, Bucky was a fucking tease. Once he noticed how easily you cried out and moaned for him, he slowed down and began kissing around your clit just to purposely mess with you. He kissed your thighs, purposely avoiding touching where he knew you needed him the most. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin around your inner thighs.
“Bucky, please!” You cried out, hand reaching for his hair. When you managed to grab a fistful of his soft hair, you gave it a gentle tug. “Stop teasing me.”
“You don’t get to give me orders, wife.” He said, sounding all proud and mighty. “I could just walk out of here and leave you like this. Naked and squirming.”
“Please,” You begged again. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you.
A scoff. Then he leaned in again. You whined and whimpered under him, with your legs wrapped around his head. Fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp instinctively as he flicked, and sucked, and teasing your clit as much as he could.
“You’ve been a brat because you wanted your husband’s attention so badly, huh?” He taunted. “Is that what you wanted? Just my attention?” He chuckled. “You’re as calm as a happy kitten now, aren’t you?”
His stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin, and the friction burned a little but it was the kind of pain you kept wanting more of. You wanted more of him.
“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” You murmured, throwing your head back, moaning as he kept teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue.
“Come for me, wife.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud.
You couldn’t even hold on for much longer, and ended up coming undone all over his tongue. Heart racing, legs trembling in his grip as you came. Your moans were soft and incessant.
Fuck… that felt amazing.
You had barely gotten your heart to stop racing, and Bucky was already standing up and in the dark you couldn’t see very well but it did look like he was moving away from the bed.
“You’re leaving?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from sounding a little upset at his departure.
All he said was, “Good night, wife. See you tomorrow.”
You scoffed after he shut the door behind him, leaving you in darkness yet again. “Ghost.”
—
That night ended up being the first of many.
Your days consisted of painting, and finally finding a flow in most of your pieces. Perhaps if you’re able to make a decent collection, you could start thinking about the exhibition seriously, you thought. When you weren’t painting you were either training your rapidly growing puppy, or baking. You’d begun taking your puppy out for walks around the mansion, consequently doing some more exploring of the grounds.
After all that, each night you’d get in bed and wait for Bucky. It became part of your routine. And each night with him was different. He’d spend his time touching you slowly until you were purring for him like a kitten. Kissing you all over your body in the dark. Making you come all over his tongue and fingers. Kissing you until you moaned and pulled him closer just to feel his weight pressing down on you.
But he would always leave after making you come. And you two never actually fucked. Neither would he let you make him come.
On nights when he wouldn’t make it home, you’d worry yourself to sleep. But then each morning you’d find a note from him either in your studio or the breakfast table. He would always say some cheesy shit. And he would always promise to come see you later that night.
On nights when you two didn’t engage in anything sexual, it was still just as fulfilling. Bucky would tell you things about his work, his past, his family. You learnt that he was over a decade older than you, and teased him about being an old man until he pinned you to the bed and tickled you until you couldn’t breathe.
You learnt that he liked to keep to himself and stay as far away from his family as possible. He liked peace and quiet, which would explain his lovely home being here away from most people.
The more you learned about him, the easier it was to grow fond of him. But the more you grew fond of him, the greedier you got. You wanted more. More of his time, his touch, his attention, and most of all, you wanted to see him.
The mystery, while hot as fuck, was killing you.
—
One night, things changed.
Bucky came into your room as usual. He’d gotten bolder lately, he wouldn’t sit in the corner like a ghost anymore, instead he would find his way to your bed and only leave that bed after making you come hard.
Tonight started out the same way.
You felt his hands all over you as he pulled you closer to him under the covers. You giggled as he bit and licked that one sensitive spot on your neck. Your fingers had a habit of finding themselves in his hair. It was insane how easily you’d gotten used to being with him in the dark. How easily you could find his mouth with your own. How easily you’d find your way into his arms.
It was weirdly comforting. His warmth, his voice, his touch.
“Tell me about your day,” He murmured, kissing your neck while his hands grabbed you and caressed you wherever he could reach.
You squealed when you felt his metal fingers wandering dangerously close to your clit. Then said, “It went pretty well. I went out to buy some supplies, made a new friend at the store, I went to see my father but he wasn’t home. I took our dog for a walk, I painted…,” You gasped when his mouth trailed down till he took a nipple into his warm mouth, while he slid two fingers inside you gently. “Oh fuck…” You whined.
He kissed his way up to your mouth again and said, “You sound so good when you moan for me, wife.” His lips brushed against yours.
He was so close. And it was dark. And you wanted so desperately to see him.
He moved his fingers expertly in and out of you. Making sure to brush against your most sensitive spots each time, turning you into a whimpering mess under him. He gave you a gentle kiss, swallowing your moans as he brought you closer to the edge.
You whimpered and whined, then in the moment you just blurted out, “Can I please see you now?”
Bucky stopped. He pulled away from you, making you whimper again as he got up and got out of your bed.
In the dark it took a while for you to figure out where he was, whether he was still nearby or already making his way out the door. But he was here, standing near the bed.
“We talked about this.” He said, sounding grave and disappointed.
“But it’s been so long.” You argued. “I trust you.”
He let out a loud exhale and said, “Then trust me when I say, it’s better this way.”
You let out a sigh. “You can’t keep me in the dark forever, Bucky. Literally!”
“Yes I can. I will.” He said arrogantly. That tone of his bothered you. “It’s better this way.” He repeated, but it sounded a lot like he was trying to convince himself instead of you.
“Oh screw you!” You said with enough bitterness to make a grown man flinch. “If you won’t let me see you then stop coming into my bedroom. I don’t want to see you unless you agree to let go of this weird persona.”
“Fine.”
—
That night was the last time you heard from Bucky.
He didn’t come home the following day. Nor the one after that.
And no one knew where he went.
You could tell something was wrong when you began noticing that the guards were talking in hushed voices whenever you were around. You noticed that the amount of security around the house doubled. That’s when you began to worry.
By the third night, the entire house was filled with this almost tangible tension, worry, and fear. The house staff wouldn’t talk to you as much. The guards were always in and out of the house. The head of security advised you to not wander too far away from the house while you roam the grounds.
You noticed the guards would follow you whenever you left the property. Be it when you left to visit your father at your old house or when you went out to buy supplies.
Then you worried some more. But no one had answers to your questions. Nobody knew where he went. Whether he’s away for an assignment or if he’s simply choosing to be away from home.
You tried your hardest to pretend that you didn’t care. You were still a little angry. After all, why couldn’t you see what he looked like? You’d spend so much time with him in the dark, running your hands all over him, tracing the outline of his facial features, he never had an issue with that. But why couldn’t you see him?
You were angry, but also very much worried by the fourth day. You missed him, you realised. He had become such a habit, such a constant in your days. His sarcastic humour, his gentle hands, his comforting embrace, the way he left you notes in the morning, the way he took your art seriously.
Fuck. You sat up in bed one night, patting ‘his’ side of the bed softly. You missed him. Badly. You felt a pinch inside your chest which you had never felt before. It hurt. You wanted him home. You admitted to yourself with a painful sigh.
“Where are you?” You whispered, looking at the dark corner of your bedroom where he used to sit in silence like a ghost. “It’s okay if you want to stay in the dark forever.” You looked around the dark room which now without him seemed so much bigger and empty, “Just come home.”
—
The next morning, as you half-heartedly approached the kitchen, you overheard something. And quickly realised you shouldn’t have heard it. It was the two ladies talking in hushed tones, the ones who usually served you your meals and often kept you company while you baked.
“...cannot tell her, she’ll be heartbroken.” One of them said gravely.
Sudden panic made your body freeze. You pressed your back against the nearest wall to keep yourself hidden while you processed those cryptic words. No, no, no. Is he hurt? Do they know something you don’t?
The other replied, “But she deserves to know. Even if it’s not confirmed yet. I mean, do you see how she smiles when she reads his notes? Clearly she had grown to care for him. She needs to know.”
The other argued, “I know, but I cannot imagine how hurt she will be when she hears about the rumours that her own father kidnapped her husband due to some past rivalry which was supposedly laid to rest after their wedding.”
“They’ve been looking for him for days now. It’s been too long, he should’ve been found by now.”
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
No. This cannot be happening.
You carefully walked away from the kitchen. Thinking, processing, analysing.
If your father did it, it must’ve been for some shitty, arrogant reason. He probably just wanted to rub it in Bucky’s family’s face that he could still eliminate his biggest threat if he wanted to. To show that he could still get rid of them by holding their most precious weapon hostage. To toy with them by making them wait in anticipation. Your father had done it before. Not with Bucky, but other people. He usually never asked for ransom but he liked having his rivals beg him for mercy.
Shit. He’s had Bucky for days now.
You moved without thinking twice about it. For some reason, your brain knew exactly what to do even though your heart was still bothered by a multitude of emotions. It felt like you were on autopilot.
You rushed into Bucky’s office and grabbed a handgun from his desk drawer, checked if it was loaded. It was. You knew Bucky kept it there for safety, he had told you that one time when you two were in bed together.
You let out a frustrated sigh, then felt movement around your ankles. You looked down at your puppy and gave her a sad smile as you bent down to pet her. “I’m gonna go find daddy, okay? I’ll be home soon.” You left her with a kiss.
You rushed back downstairs and found a group of armed guards in the foyer near the front door. You didn’t have the time to explain it all to them, especially since you were driven by a gut feeling. Instead you asked, “Do you guys have a way of tracking my phone, or my car?”
One of them nodded. The rest frowned in confusion.
You tried to keep your calm as much as you could even though your heart was racing. “Okay, I’m gonna go to my father’s house. Don’t follow me yet, but I need some of you to come find me as soon as I begin driving away from there.”
Surprisingly, they just nodded and let you go.
The whole time you drove to your father’s house, it felt you were constantly having to force yourself to keep calm. After four days of having no idea where he was, and now as all the puzzle pieces fit together, it was hard to remain calm. You just wanted to get to him.
And while you drove, unanswered questions tormented you.
Was he hurt? Where was he being kept? Was he beaten up? Was he even conscious? Would this end badly? How far would your father take this? Would he hurt him?
Before you knew it, you were entering your father’s property. The guards let you in like they always did. You had to take a minute to breathe in your car before stepping out and going inside your old home.
Luckily your father was home.
You walked in and stopped in the middle of the foyer as you saw him making his way down the stairs. He slowed down when he noticed the glare you sent his way. And when he stopped in the middle of the grand staircase, with you still glaring at him, the guards who were scattered around the entrance noticed. You caught the way they silently got closer and closer, slowly reaching for their guns.
Good thing you’d brought your own.
The guards, as well as your father, froze in place the moment you pulled out Bucky’s gun and pointed it at the man responsible for all of this shit. No one made a single sound. No guard moved to even try to disarm you.
You looked at your hand, which was surprisingly steady as it held the gun. And there, on the side of the shiny metal, you spotted Bucky’s initials. Your heart throbbed in a painful way, but you refused to be emotional right now, even though you needed a good cry after having bottled up your feelings for the last few days.
You glared at your father, who was still shocked, and asked in a cold tone you’d never used before, “Where’s my husband?”
Your father frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?”
You repeated, “Where is he?”
Your father scoffed, “You’ll shoot your own father? Is this how I raised you?”
“And you’ll kidnap your own son-in-law? For what? To show that you’re still the shit?” You questioned in a slightly raised voice.
He sighed like he was disappointed, “You don’t know what–,”
You cut him off. “We had a deal, right? That these petty attacks would stop after the wedding? That’s why I got married, isn’t it? Because we’re supposed to keep family safe?”
He was quiet for a moment. Then began talking again, “If I could just get them to–,”
“Enough!” You sounded just as tired of his bullshit as you were. “Whatever plan you have, just stop!” Then it came spilling out of your mouth, “You were supposed to protect me. All of us,” You said, referring to your older siblings, “Instead you married each of us off in exchange for whatever or whoever was going to benefit you more.”
He argued, “If this works, you can come back home. Don’t you want that?”
“No,” You said, and realised you meant it. “This was never home.” You admitted. “He treats me better than my own family ever did. He doesn’t tell me that my art is a waste of time. He doesn’t keep me imprisoned inside his home. He doesn’t choose who I should mingle with and who I shouldn’t. He doesn’t force me to join family businesses because it’ll be good for his image.” You taunted your father. “And he’ll never sell me to the highest bidder.”
Your father made a sound like he was disgusted. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him?”
You remained quiet. I care for him, you wanted to say, deeply. But that would be lying, wouldn’t it? Truth was… you did fall for him. His calm voice. His gentle but playful demeanour. His dark humour. His brilliant mind and sharp tongue, always ready to argue and debate. His gentle touch… you loved him.
“What I do and who I care for is none of your concern anymore.” You concluded, stepping forward and keeping the gun aimed at his face. “Now, where is my husband?”
The smirk on your father’s face was maddening. “You’ll never find him,” He said. “I’ve hidden him well.” He added.
You gave him a smirk as well. One which mirrored his.
“Oh don’t make me do this.” You cooed. “Did you forget all those times you got drunk and confessed all the bad things you did?” You began listing, “All those times you spilled all your little secrets. About our family businesses, about your allies, the lies and betrayal. The bodies that are buried on this very property. The skeletons in your closet.” You gave him a sick, sweet smile. “Imagine if all that information just magically ends up in the ears of your rivals, dad. Imagine the carnage.”
His smirk disappeared. “You would betray me by siding with them?” He asked in disbelief.
You were getting tired of this. So you lowered your gun and said, “I am one of them.”
You walked out without a single glance back at your father, but you could tell he had his jaws clenched in anger. He hated being outsmarted. But his mistake was underestimating you.
And as for Bucky’s location, well your father gave it away when he said ‘I’ve hidden him well.’
There was only one place he believed you knew nothing about since at the time that he told you about it, he was drunk out of his mind as he confessed more of his crimes: the rundown warehouse which he used as a hideout/storage for weapons and arms.
Your father had always referred to Bucky being a ‘weapon’ so it was only fitting that he would think to hide him there. Thinking no one would find him.
But you would.
As you drove to the warehouse, you hoped that the guards were tracking you as you had instructed them to. Because if Bucky was truly there, there was a high chance that there would be some guards, and that Bucky must be injured. And you’d need help getting him out of there.
Driving to the warehouse, you had silent tears streaming down your face. Not just out of sadness, but also frustration. Fuck, what had your life become?
The warehouse was a disaster, you realised as you approached it. Large, crumbling, windows boarded up with rotting wood, broken machinery scattered around the outside. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades. And it was exactly the type of structure no one would bother to look twice at. The perfect place to hide illegal things, and son-in-laws you hate.
There weren’t as many guards as you expected. Which would mean that Bucky was either chained and locked up like an animal, or that he was injured to the point where he was too weak to fight his way out of here.
Or both.
You shivered as you got out of your car. The few guards who were around noticed you and one of them began walking faster towards you the more you got closer to the entrance.
“Miss, you can’t be here. Your father explicitly said no one is allowed–,”
You scoffed and said, “Oh, I know what he said.” You kept walking. “What will you do? Shoot me?”
“Miss,” He tried again, “I can’t let you–,”
You turned towards him and placed the barrel of Bucky’s gun right under the guard’s chin. “You were saying?”
Then you heard it. A fleet of cars approaching. The guards heard it too. You heard them yelling at one another while the one in front of you remained frozen in place. You smirked at him and said, “Now go play with them.”
You had just enough time to duck and run inside before the gunshots began. You didn’t stop. The interior of the warehouse was just as dilapidated as the outside, and by the sound of it, there were quite some guards on the roof. Their heavy footsteps as they ran to duck and try to escape the bullets raining down on them echoed inside the empty warehouse.
It was fairly easy to spot Bucky. But fuck was it painful to see him that way.
He was chained to the wall, shackles around his wrists and ankles. His body slumped on the ground, his breaths ragged. You could tell he was tired. Perhaps tired of fighting against the chains. You couldn’t hold back your soft sob as you ran to him.
They had left his muzzle-like mask on him, covering the lower half of his face. The leather jacket and gloves he wore were covered in blood and dirt. A lot of blood. You knelt down in front of him and that’s when you noticed the bullet wound on his thigh. It looked fresh.
“Bucky?” You called, reaching a hand to touch his face. He was cold to the touch, but stirred at the sound of your voice. “Bucky, come on. Wake up. Please.” You sniffled and inched closer to him, “I’m here, I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?”
He let out a weak cough. You could barely hear it over the sound of the gunshots outside.
“Bucky,” You tried to get the chains and shackles off of him, “Come on, wake up. We need to go home.” Your own voice cracked as you felt the silent tears streaming down your face as you were unable to get the shackles off. “Please,” You begged.
Then as the gunshots outside faded away, you heard Bucky’s faint voice saying, “Use the gun.”
You turned to face him. “What?”
He spoke again, his voice raspier than usual and sounding muffled due to the mask. “Shoot at the chains.”
Your hands trembled just a little as you reached for the gun you had brought. His gun. And you said, “Okay, don’t move.”
You did. And only missed twice.
Breaking the chains left the shackles still around his wrists and ankles but that could be dealt with later. You were panicking, wondering how you’d get him out of here but the guards barged in just in time. And you let out a sigh of relief when they ran straight to Bucky and carefully picked him up.
As a couple of them managed to get Bucky in the backseat of your car, one of them let you know that there was a doctor and his assistants already waiting at home to tend to Bucky. Another one asked you what to do regarding the warehouse.
“Burn it.” You told him. “I’ll deal with my father later, right now we need to get Bucky home.”
On the drive home, Bucky kept trying to talk. But he was so weak he could barely get full sentences out.
“Weren’t you mad at me?” He asked.
You sniffled and said refused to answer that. Instead you said, “Try not to talk. You’ve been shot, we don’t know how much blood you’ve lost,” You rambled. “Let’s get you to the doctor, okay?”
“S’okay,” He mumbled, “It went through.”
That only hurt more. “Bucky please, you need to save energy, okay? We’re almost home.”
“They… shot me with my own gun.” He refused to keep quiet.
At first you thought his brain was being delirious and making him ramble. Because of the pain, exhaustion, thirst, hunger. But then a weak sound left his mouth. Still muffled by the mask because no one removed it, and it sounded a lot like a very weak, faint laugh.
“Eros got pierced by his own arrow after all.” He mumbled.
You held back a sob. Then muttered, “I hate you so much, Bucky Barnes.”
Another weak laugh. “No, you don’t, wife.”
Then he passed out cold.
—
The next few days which followed Bucky’s rescue went by so fast and so painfully. The medical team kept close watch on him for days. Bucky was in and out of consciousness a lot. All the meds and the exhaustion kept him constantly out cold.
The nurses and the house staff were constantly around him. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to go into his room. Not yet. You’d linger near the door and the doctors and the staff would constantly update you about his condition, but you never went in.
Mainly it was because of shame. At what your father had done to him. But also you were still making peace with and processing your own emotions and you couldn’t face him until you were fully ready. What was important was that he was rescued and safe in his home.
About a week later, the medical team finally left. And promised they would do frequent check ups and told you that Bucky needed a lot of rest.
And that night, you managed to find the courage to finally step inside Bucky’s bedroom. It was a lot like yours, just larger. The room was dark when you walked in. But the open curtains allowed some light in from the outside.
Okay. You spoke to yourself as you approached Bucky’s bed. It’s high time you find out who you married.
Your hands shook a little as you reached for the dim lamp on his bedside table. But you turned it on quickly before you could talk yourself out of it.
The golden light illuminated the room partly, and there he was. A little bruised, with a cut on his lip. His handsome face made you smile and tear up at the same time. You couldn’t hold back from reaching to touch his face softly, carefully. You ran your knuckles along his cheek and whispered, “There you are, ghost.”
He stirred. And soon, a pair of sparkling blue eyes look up at you. For a moment you panicked, wondering if he would be upset. But instead he said, “This is cheating.”
You let out a soft laugh and asked, “How are you feeling? You’ve been asleep for days.”
“I feel like beating your father up.” He mumbled.
“Oh, same.” You agreed. Then added, “I’m so sorry for what he did to you.”
Over the past few days, the guards had gathered what had truly happened the day Bucky went missing. Turns out, he did leave for an assignment but your father and his men had been keeping a close eye on him for days, and since the wedding was supposed to have ended all rivalry, Bucky had his guard down as he entered your father’s territory. And your father had the upper hand for once and took advantage of it. Bucky was cornered, outnumbered and taken. He was kept in that warehouse up until you found him.
“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered, reaching for your hand on your lap. He gave your hand a soft squeeze and said, “You saved me.”
You couldn’t look away from Bucky. It felt so intimate to finally be able to see his face. Then rather sheepishly, you asked, “Can I sleep here? I’ll be careful.” He was still injured and in pain, but you just wanted to be close to him. You needed to.
He smirked, “Come on.” You walked to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers, keeping some distance between you and him. He turned to look at you and said, “Want me to leave the light on?”
You nodded. And he did.
—
A lot changed after that.
Bucky was healing from his injury and was starting to walk again. Which meant that he was home a lot. He did ‘work’ but it mainly consisted of him ordering people around on the phone.
Him being at home meant that he followed you around as much as he physically could. He would spend time in your studio, sometimes he’d stay for hours and watch you finish your pieces. He also spent a lot more time with your dog, taking her on short walks and teaching her new tricks.
He’d stay with you in the kitchen while you baked. He’d go with you whenever you went shopping for supplies. Bucky became your shadow. And consequently, spending this much together made you feel closer than ever to him.
He became your best friend.
He also became a lot more… bold.
—
One night Bucky found you in his bathroom. After that night when you first slept in his bed, you hadn’t gone back to your bedroom. So now, most of your things slowly found their way into his space. Like your night time skin care products.
Bucky crept up behind you and wrapped his arms around you.
You met his eyes through the mirror and gave him a smile. “Your limp is nearly gone.” You announced, noticing the way he walked was so much better now.
He gave you a look which meant nothing but mischief, “And you know what that means?”
You could already tell where this was going. You immediately turned him down. “Bucky, we cannot. You’re still injured.”
“But it’s been weeks.” He said it like it was the ultimate torture. “Don’t you miss those nights we spent together? Hmm?” He whispered, leaning in to kiss your neck. He knew it was one of your weaknesses. “Remember how good it feels when I make you come?”
You sighed, letting him kiss you and hold you for a moment. “Buck… you’re still healing.”
“Come on, baby,” He cooed, nuzzling your neck, “I’ll make it so good. I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts.”
You almost gave in the moment he playfully bit your neck, his hands finding the belt of your robe and shamelessly undoing it before sliding in to touch your warm skin. “But,” You tried to find something even though all you wanted was to drag him to bed, “Your stitches…” Your words ended in a soft moan as his metal fingers found their way in between your legs, circling around your clit.
Bucky growled. Growled. Then said, “Fine, you get to be on top then.”
You froze, and let out a nervous chuckle. “But I…,” You opened your eyes and met his through the mirror. “I–,”
“Shh, it’s okay.” He reassured you, remembering the time you told him you’d never done anything with anyone before. “I know.” He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll teach you.”
And he did. Patiently.
He took his time in undressing both of you and held your hand in his as he laid down and pulled you on top of him.
“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.” You murmured.
He gave you a reassuring smile. “You won’t, baby. Now come on.”
He watched as you carefully straddled him, settling comfortably around his waist. One hand holding his metal one tightly while the other remained splayed over his chest.
Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust as he tugged on your hand, pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned down gently and pressed your mouth to his. His warm hand immediately rubbed up and down your side lovingly. He pulled away just a little and whispered against your mouth, “We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?”
You nodded, already breathless.
“Tell me, baby. What do you want?”
You told him the one thing you desperately wanted. “I want to touch you.”
Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist, your core pressing down on his crotch. “Go on then, touch me.” He murmured.
He watched you intently as you reached out and touched his face first. Bucky’s heart was racing, you could tell by the way he breathed, as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs, so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch.
You gave him a teasing smile when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your naked body.
“Don’t tease me,” He mumbled.
You chuckled and leaned in to give him a brief kiss before hesitantly wrapping your hand around his cock. Part of the reason why you kissed him while doing it was because you were worried about your lack of experience, so you did it to distract him.
But he caught it. And wrapped his own hand around yours, making you grip him tighter. You pulled away from the kiss and looked into his pretty eyes. Bucky was breathing heavily. You let his hand guide you as you gave him an experimental stroke, a gentle up and down movement.
He felt thick and hard, and big. You looked down for a quick minute as you let him continue guiding your hand, lazily stroking his cock, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you looked back up at him and kissed your way down his neck, around the base of his throat, making him gasp in pleasure.
“See?” He whispered, “You’re learning already.” He said as he slowly let go of your hand and let you touch him on your own.
You continued exploring this new feeling. He was completely fine with just being there and letting you take your time. And you did take your time, touching him everywhere you could, stroking him as slowly or as quickly as you wanted to. Until he was so close to the edge, eyes rolled to the back of his head, lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth as pre cum started dripping down his cock.
Oh he was a sight to behold. But you were getting impatient, and you wanted him in you as soon as possible. So you stopped, earning a groan from him.
“I want you,” You said.
Bucky looked like he was barely able to hold back either. “Come on,” He held your hand again, pulled you in for a quick kiss as you straddled him properly. His hand reached down and aligned the tip of his cock to your hole, teasing you with it by sliding it up and down your slit a few times until you were whimpering. “Now sit on it baby come on,” He encouraged you as you began sinking down on him, gasping as his cock stretched you out. “You can do it.” He murmured, breathless as he watched his cock disappear inside you more and more. “That's it. All the way down, come on baby.”
You were a moaning mess by the time you sunk all the way down, impaling yourself down on his cock. Fuck. You had never felt so full before. So fucking full.
“You okay, baby?” He asked, holding you by your hips, moving you back and forth just a little bit to create some friction.
You nodded, moaning at the slight movement.
“Want me to help you move?” He asked, lips parted and he had that wild look in his eyes.
Fuck, he was beautiful.
“Yes, please,” You whined, placing your hands on his chest to brace yourself for what was coming.
He wasted no time. Bucky grabbed you by the hips and helped you move up and down his cock. Your wet warmth wrapped all around him, making him swear under his breath and groan at how good you felt.
You couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and feeling him twitch inside you.
“Look at you.” He cooed. “Look how well you're taking it.”
You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss his open mouth. He was so perfect. He was everything you had ever dreamt of, you realised.
His metal fingers moved to touch your clit while you rode his cock, teasing you and bringing you closer to that edge. It wouldn’t take much. You were so overwhelmed already.
“Bucky…” You whined, dragging your hands down and pressing both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him around his thigh area, where he was shot.
Bucky watched you, your breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you got so, so close to the edge.
And he knew. So he quickened his pace, still moving you up and down his cock while he rubbed your throbbing clit.
“Baby, I’m gonna need you to come for me, okay?” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. His desperation was quite clear. He began to thrust his hips up even harder, matching your movements.
The air around you got hotter, and that look in his eyes made you want to live in this moment forever. Bucky was the most beautiful mess you’d ever seen. A sweaty, moaning mess under you, messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock.
You were sure you looked like a mess too as you felt your walls clench around him, gripping him and milking him perfectly.
“Come for me,” He whispered, “Come on, baby.”
You came without a warning, crying out loud and impaling yourself down on him one last time as you did. Bucky thrust up into you one last time and came undone as well, both of you breathing hard and fast.
You carefully got up from his lap and laid down beside him, body limp and slightly sore in between your legs.
You were still catching your breath as you asked, “Did I hurt you?” You sounded just as worried as you were.
Bucky chuckled. “I should be the one asking you that.”
You smiled and snuggled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.
“I’m fine, baby.” He said and kissed your forehead.
You both laid there in silence for a while.
Cuddling and relishing each other’s warmth, caressing each other’s skin.
You felt his fingers drawing random shapes on your back as you laid your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeats against your cheek. You felt the need to ask him, “Why were you so against showing yourself to me?”
He gave you a soft chuckle. “You just can’t let that go, huh?”
“Nope.”
He sighed, pulling you closer. “I was… afraid.”
You frowned. “Afraid of what?” You pulled away and looked up at him. “Why did you hide this pretty face from me?” You gave him a quick kiss on his chest as you waited for his answer.
He sighed again. “Everywhere I go, I… whenever people see me up close, it’s already too late. They don’t see a human anymore, they see death staring back at them.” He paused. You remained quiet. He continued. “I see it, you know? In their eyes. When they look at me and plead, or beg, or curse me.” A humourless laugh, then, “After some years of that, I began seeing it in the mirror as well. I saw the same thing they see. After years of brutality, and killing, and spilling blood,” A soft chuckle, “Years of being an evil Eros as you call it, I grew to hate my face.”
You felt tears forming at your waterline but you couldn’t look away from him. Not when he was being so brave and vulnerable.
He continued. “And then before our wedding, I looked you up.” He confessed, a little embarrassed. “And you were so beautiful.” He looked you right in the eyes and repeated, “You are so beautiful. I guess, I didn’t want you to look at me and see death, and ugly and all the other dark stuff. I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes, the same one I see in everyone. That look of fear and disgust.” He finally admitted, “So I thought, I’d just hide and be a ghost.”
“My ghost.” You corrected him, reaching out to cup his chin in your palm. “And I’m gonna need you to never stop haunting me.” You said, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on his lips. “I want you to always be in the shadows. Be with me, even in the dark.” You gave him a smile. “I look at you now and you know what I see? I see a man who treated me with respect. A man who wouldn’t touch me unless I asked for it. A man who gave me so much space for my creativity.” A faint smile, then you added, “You made me fall in love with art all over again, and now everything I paint, I paint with you in my mind.”
He gave you a smile which both broke and mended your heart.
“Oh Buck,” You cupped his gorgeous face with both hands and said, “You’re not death, or scary, or any other dark shit. You’re mine, and I love you.”
He pulled you in for a kiss so quickly you barely processed it. “And I love you.”
You giggled into the kiss and only pulled away when you were breathless. You kissed your way down his chin and nuzzled his neck, sighing in delight.
Bucky said, “I think I should retire.”
“Hmm,” You asked, “And what would you do in retirement?”
“Watch you paint, raise our dog, adopt some more animals, attend your art exhibitions, and eventually make some babies with you.” He listed it all so easily.
“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed.
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Hidden Truths
Cregan x Wife!reader
pt. 1
named reader (aye-leese) no description, from house Glover.
summary - Cregan comes home from war with a scandalous surprise, much to the horror of his wife. Though, it is not all that she expected when she heard of her husband's infidelity.
Inspired by Ned and Catelyn Stark (obviously lol)
It had been four moons since Cregan Stark returned from King's Landing, ending the war and placing Aegon iii on the Iron Throne. Four moons since he presented his bastard for all to see, declaring to his wife that they would raise the boy as a legitimized Stark.
Aelys Glover, now Stark, had never thought her husband would betray her in such a brutal way. To bed another woman down in the South, in a time of war, to father a bastard. To give the bastard his Stark name.
She hadn't even had her first babe yet, due to the young couple deciding to spend their first few years of marriage having each other all to themselves. Had it all been a lie from Cregan? A masterful deceit to make his mistress' son his heir? Perhaps he had regretted their marriage and chosen to disregard any of her future children, thinking her genetics undesirable. Whatever dull excuse he had, it would never be enough to balm her heart.
People whispered about which mother's son might be Cregan's heir apparent.
It was not yet decided, and would not be until years ahead when Aelys showed if she could bear him more sons or not. Until she did, Brandon Stark would be Cregan's unofficially heir as his eldest son.
Aelys had refused to share a bed with Cregan since the night he returned. She would not perform her marital duties anymore, not until she was either dead or he forced her, which she knew he at least had the honor to not. Aelys would give him no children of her own, spitefully intending to leave the Stark line to a bastard who would forever be known to the world as such.
She would make it clear that her husband's stupidity would end the Stark's honorable history streak. The babe would be legit, yes, but never trueborn. It was said that bastards were born nasty and cruel, and Aelys had not believed such rumors until she met the babe herself. Her spite grew in spite of her previous kind and understanding nature, driven to hate the babe without knowing him.
Even with the same House name as his father, the boy was nothing like him. He seemed to carry his mother's traits, instead, whoever she was. Dark black hair and even darker eyes to match, though the Northern pale skin Cregan carried had stayed through the genetic battle.
At least Cregan did not bring her home, too. If he had, Aelys would have thrown herself from The Wall in shame and disgrace. She would not be the other woman in her own marriage.
His words when he returned burned at her heart, even now the dust had not settled nor had the fire quelled.
"It was a one-time tryst, I swear this to you. A night of vulnerability, when it got rough in King's Landing." He said, voice strained and undereyes dark with the heavy weight of guilt and responsibility. She'd never felt such an intense urge to hit a man before.
His bastard sister, Sara Snow, a woman whom Aelys had grown to see as her own sister and close confidante, returned from King's Landing a month after her brother.
She looked even worse than her elder brother, who still could barely hold Aelys' eyes when she wordlessly passed him in the halls. She looked gaunt and exhausted, though she claimed that the journey back was tiring. Sighing, Aelys could only welcome her back into the Great Keep to catch up over all that she had missed. Apparently, Sara had stayed in the Riverlands for most of the moons Cregan had hosted in the Crownlands. She was housed by the Blackwoods, becoming fast friends with Alysanne Blackwood and Davos Blackwood, the fierce aunt and nephew who fought together against the Greens.
No useful information about the whore that Cregan had bedded that night, Aelys bitterly thought for a moment. Then, a wave of guilt and regret hit her. It was not Sara's fault for her brother's mistakes. She was truly glad to have the conpany back, seeing as Winterfell had felt cold and emptier now that Cregan was back than it ever had before. She had been avoiding his for these four moons, leaving only a few rooms accessible for her privacy and peace of mind.
She never entered the nursery room's entire hallway. Even when needing something past it, she chose to go the longest possible route to avoid it. She didn't wish to think about the boy more than she already did. She saw him during dinners, being presented to Cregan by his wet nurse before being put down to sleep for the night. Those mere glimpses were plenty to feed her anxious mind.
Today, the adjacent hall towards the Keep's hotsprings was closed. "A few cobblestone in the wall have cracked, m'Lady. You mustn't enter for one might accidentally fall on you." A young servant boy had informed her, thoroughly apologetic as she sighed and headed him. The nursery's hall was the only one that also held the door outside, lest she chose to go all the way around the outside of the keep in this blizzard.
The thought was tempting but childish. Steeling her courage up, Aelys had fixed herself to stride past the door. She could not help the subconscious glance inside, seeing the glimpse of curly black hair laying alone in his crib, but wide awake and almost flailing around in a fuss.
Looking around, Aelys was surprised to see not one attendant or wet nurse. From her experience with babes, they were rarely left alone unless they were sleeping. Even then, some mothers and nurses liked to hover to ensure its safety while unconscious. Aelys stepped into the dim room, finding that Brandon's attention immediately focused on her. He whined out, reaching out grabbing hands toward her. Grimacing, she reached into the crib to lift him up, holding him at a safe distance from her face.
Up close, she could reluctantly admit that the babe was cute. He was well-doted on in the Keep by all the maids and even visiting Lords. Though his parentage was questionable and whispered about, none actually had the courage to ask why the boy had been legitimized so quickly. Aelys guessed it had been the circumstances. Aegon, the new King, was young and suseptible to influence, so legitimizing a bastard like Brandon was done without question.
"What are you fussing on about, you spoiled thing?" She asked, though her tone was soft and gentle. Brandon smiled a gummy smile, face lifting as he reached out again for her. This time, she allowed him to rest on her shoulder as she supported him, gently rocking back and forth as she stood. The faster he was asleep, the faster she could leave without feeling like a monster.
She already had that feeling nagging at her mind too much. Hating a babe took a lot of energy. She knew it was wrongfully placed, but Brandon's very nature and sire had wronged her more. The physical reminder that his father had not loved her.
Soft snores filled the room as she hummed lowly, the vibrations and comforting sound putting the fussy tot to sleep quicker than she had anticipated. Gently placing him back in the cot, she hands gripped the wooden edges harshly, a sharp contrast to her previous touch. Was she betraying herself for not demanding that the babe be taken away? Warded with another great House until she finally had a son? No. Cregan would never allow it, even as Lady of the House she held no true power over the Warden.
Turning, Aelys was met with her husband in the doorway. Silent as a stalking wolf, he leaned against the doorway and looked upon his son and wife with pools of affection. There was a slight gloss to them as she looked closer that she opted to ignore. "Cregan." She greeted curtly, moving to slide past him and speak no more of her presence in the nursery.
"He has a way of melting one's heart, does he not?" He asked, tilting his chin to look down at her. A branch, left out and hanging by Cregan's strong arms. Too bad that she did not need it.
"He disgusts me." She said instead, shouldering past him and continuing back to her rooms. She changed her mind in the few minutes that she spent with the bastard Stark boy. She could stay here no longer, could not bear for her own husband to bring this embodied lie to live in the very home that she did. Wouldn't raise any children to be in their older brother's shadow.
Ignoring the hushed plea from Cregan, Aelys went straight to the Maester's tower. Maester Parek had been a helpful and understanding ear for Aelys to rant to when dealing with arisen problems, whether with her moon blood, achy bones from the cold, or questioning if any ravens had come from mysterious women. None had, as far as she had been told. That is, if Parek had been entirely truthful to his Lady.
Hurriedly knocking on the man's door, it was soon opened after a grunt of physical labor had been heard from the other side. The Maester had always complained about his bad knees and how they were made worse in the winters.
"Lady Stark?" He asked, shocked to see her at midday. It was a rarity, as she usually made her visits in the morning after she broke her fast.
"Maester." She greeted, shifting on her feet. "I need to send a letter, urgently."
"May I ask to whom?" He inquired, earning a solemn nod from the young Lady.
"I'm sorry, Parek. It is private."
"Of course, my Lady. The room is yours." He bowed and left the chambers to occupy himself while she busied herself as well. She immediately made for the small attached room in the tower, made into a raven nest hundreds of years ago. A few perched black birds squaked or raised her heads at the unfamiliar sight curiously, but they were well-trained and did not spook.
Bending over the crickity desk, she quickly drafted a messily-writen yet vague letter.
Father,
Some troubles have come up in Winterfell, and Cregan Stark has advised me to return to House Glover's protection while he deals with matters here. I will be returning swiftly, though the snow will hinder the horse a few days.
See you soon,
your dearest Aelys.
As soon as she finished, she hastily melted the powder blue wax and sealed the direwolf sigil onto the rolled paper. Tying the scroll to a raven's foot, Aelys sent it off. The bird would reach House Glover's Maester quickly, and in the meantime she would ready herself for departure.
As she was shoving clothes and pelts into various bags, the very ones that carried her belongings to Winterfell over two years ago, Aelys could not stop the hot, angry tears that fell to her cheeks. Wiping away at her face with scruffy sleeve fur, gifted to her by Cregan himself, Aelys felt the frustration and loneliness sting at her soul. The loneliness was a choice on her part, most would say. That she was dramatic and most Lords sired bastards. She should be grateful he did not bring the mother back, too, and house her in his home next to his Lady Wife. All whispers she heard from her ladies-in-waiting, whom she immediately dismissed from service upon hearing such impudent things.
She would not be subjected to the humiliation. She wanted love, and she once had it. Oh, she had it. Cregan treated her like a goddess walking amongst humans for the moons they spent together before his leave to King's Landing. If she could not have Cregan's loyalty or love, she would at least find a man who she did not have high expectations for. An older Lord, perhaps, one who just wanted a young and pretty woman to give him final heirs during his last years of life. Aelys would know her role, then, and would live contently knowing she did not love foolishly while expecting faithfulness in return.
First, this marriage had to be annuled. In Lord Glover's home, she could easily ask for such a thing. The marriage had been commsumated, but there were no witnesses and no babes to confirm this to outsiders. Aelys would simply have to claim that she and Lord Stark never once bedded before he left to find another woman, and then she'd be an unmarried Lady once more. A Glover, not a Stark.
She realized she'd been quite fastidious in her packing. Unlike her carriage ride to Winterfell, her luggage could not be carried easily on one horse. She picked only one of her bags, with the thickest dresses and warmest pelts she had, rushing out of the room while clipping a cloak over her shoulders. Dark blue in color, Aelys almost cursed at the thought that almost all of her wardrobe and fine things had been gifts from Cregan. Her pelts, gloves, and even the horse that she would take home.
Cobalt, she had named the steed, noticing how his pure black coat almost gleamed blue in certain lights. Cregan had a wide and cherishing smile on his face as he walked the young stallion out of the stables a few days after their wedding. They often took walks on trails in the Wolfswood together on horseback, just their muffled conversations filling the still air. She remembered every moment with her husband fondly before he tarnished everything. Now, she knew all of it to be a facade, just like any other Lord in Westeros might have done. At least other men had the decency to be nasty plain to your face, unlike the Stark.
Aelys sneaked into the armory to pick up a few extra things, knowing no one would occupy the room when the whether was so unfortunate.
Striding towards the stables with squinted eyes, Aelys shivered at the temperature change. Luckily, the journey would be quick, with only a few days to walk on horseback. Cobalt was a resilient horse built for such harsh weather, and she was a Northern woman through and through.
She attached the bag and waterskin to Cobalt's saddle after she tacked him up. His long and unruly made quivered in the breeze as the light blizzard raged on as it had been for two days now. It did not deter her. She attached her bow and quiver to the other side to keep weight even, knowing she'd have to hunt for herself during the journey.
Steadying herself on the saddle, Aelys glanced once more at Winterfell's Great Keep, where Cregan was surely in his study or councilroom. She squeezed Colbalt's side lightly to urge the percheron onwards, giving herself no room for second guessing her choices.
At the wall's gate, the two snow-covered men regarded her with weary looks. "My Lady, there is a blizzard—" Ron Frasel told her, ginger brow upturned in question.
"I have eyes, Ron. I will return soon, I have buisness in Winter Town." She said tiredly, not wanting to be interrupted by the men at such an important time. It would not be long before a maid reported her missing.
Ernest, the guard's most frequent partner, inquired gently. "Will you require any assistance, Lady Stark? I'm sure Lord Stark would feel more at ease knowing you are escorted."
"He is fine with me going on my own, it is a short ride." She said curtly, anxious for Cregan to find out about her plan.
Ernest nodded and gestured for the iron gate to be lifted. "Safe travels, my Lady." Before bowing his head politely.
As Aelys walked through the opened gate, she urged Cobalt to a faster trot to create quick distance between her and Winterfell before she set up camp.
Ron shared an uneasy look with Ernest as the woman passed. "Lord Stark has never allowed her out without a guard before." He whispered.
His friend nodded, eyes glancing between her fading figure in the snow and the Keep. "Perhaps we should go see Lord Stark himself, just to be safe."
Ron shivered. "If he finds out we let his wife go into the blizzard without him knowin', who knows what'd happen to us."
"Quickly, then." They were both skidding off towards the Keep with no time to waste.
#cregan stark x reader#cregan x reader#hotd fanfic#cregan stark#hotd#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon#game of thrones x reader#stark
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I've always found the end of Journal 3 a bit strange, but one of the specific things is ford throwing his journals into the bottomless pit. It's kinda cool as a concept, but it really doesn't make a whole lot of sense.
The bottomless pit basically makes it so the fate is unknown of whatever goes in. it could come back, it could end up somewhere else, or it could continue falling for eternity.
ford has attempted to hide his journals before, but they were all found. Gideon even dug up the 2nd one and used it to terrorize the town and even ford's own family.
so I don't think ford would be blind to these outcomes, its happened before why wouldn't it happen again? I think the thought of the journals falling through the pit and wounding up in the hands of someone more powerful than an 8 year old would be enough to keep him up at night. the forever uncertainty would kill him.
then I think, well maybe he would burn them with everything else?
however, I think it's important to remember how much these journals meant to him. despite the memories they carry now, they were once his sole confidant in six years of solitude.
even if ford felt any sort of connection to them now, he probably felt like he had to get rid of them.
he probably felt that his work was a burden to those he cared about. that he would have to make the sacrifice to part with them.
I think it would be a great dilemma for him. So I believe he gave them to someone. I think a lot of people would assume it would be Dipper, but to me what it comes down to is that it would have to be someone ford could fully trust.
it would be someone who could see the value in his work despite his mistakes. someone who could fully understand where his passion came from at the very start.
so i believe he gave them to fiddleford
I think fiddleford has had an interest in Ford's old journals ever since his memory started to recover. he remembers something new each time he reads them. fiddleford would be able to keep them safe, keeping ford's mind at ease knowing someone was keeping an eye on them.
and I think that would be enough for him
#long post#LOOONG POST#but only because theres like 12 drawings in it#scribbles#gravity falls#ford pines#fiddleford mcgucket#stan pines#dipper pines#but this is primarily about ford and fiddleford
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Lust is in the Air
Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 6.4k
Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.
Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex
A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes
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Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.
"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"
"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.
"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.
"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.
"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.
"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.
"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.
Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.
"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.
"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."
After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.
"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.
"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.
On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.
"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.
"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.
"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.
"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.
"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.
"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.
"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.
"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."
Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.
As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.
"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.
"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.
"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.
"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.
You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.
"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.
"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'
"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.
"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.
"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.
"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.
"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.
"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.
Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.
"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.
"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.
You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.
"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.
"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.
"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.
"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.
"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."
Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.
"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.
"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.
"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.
"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.
"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.
"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."
"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.
"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.
"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.
"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."
"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"
"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.
"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.
"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.
"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.
"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."
"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.
"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.
"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.
"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.
"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.
"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.
"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.
"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.
"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.
"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.
"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.
"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.
And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.
"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.
"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.
"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.
"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.
"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.
"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.
"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.
"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.
Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.
As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.
"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."
It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.
"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.
"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.
"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.
Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.
"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.
"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.
"You want to see me naked?" he teases.
"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.
"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.
"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.
And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.
"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.
"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"
Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.
"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.
"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.
"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.
Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'
Be back soon, you write back.
"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.
"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.
"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.
"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."
You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?
"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."
You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.
"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.
"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.
As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.
Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.
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