#set some time before cell phones
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loser!könig × female!reader
warnings: +18, smut, cunnilingus, sex!
loser!könig
a simple photo of your breasts was enough for könig to become the most submissive and needy being in the entire universe. And how to blame him? It was the first time that a girl agreed to have a conversation with him without leaving him in seen or blocking him.
from that moment on, not a day went by when könig sent you a good morning message or a photo of his fat cock showing through his jeans. sometimes you ignored him or took a while to respond, but he always answered instantly. könig didn't mind staying up late talking to you or having to look at his cell phone constantly waiting for your response, he loved the little attention you gave him.
some nights he would surprise you by sending you videos of him masturbating while moaning your name and telling you in an agitated voice how much he needed you there with him. he set your photo as his wallpaper and, sooner rather than later, asked for your bank account information to send you money every time you delayed responding.
soon könig proposed that you meet him in his city, he wanted to meet you in person. you hesitated at his proposal but soon changed your mind when you noticed the amount of money he had sent you, it was enough to pay for a plane ticket to his city. it was all paid for, so how can you say no?
you met könig in a hotel room that he had reserved for both of you. in photos he looked huge and in person it was even more so. he covered almost the entire door frame, his muscles were visible through his t-shirt and his face expressed absolute desire. in his hand he carried a bouquet of roses that he had bought especially to receive you and a bottle of champagne.
you both didn't talk much. there was no need either, you both knew what you were going for.
könig had you under him, hugging your bare legs preventing you from escaping while his big cock entered and exited you. your pussy stretched deliciously with each thrust while your clitoris rubbed against his skin. könig breathed close to your face, fixing his gaze on every expression of pleasure and how you desperately asked him to slow down a little.
"cutie, i can't stop, i can't..."
könig increased the speed of his thrusts, sinking you into the mattress and approaching your face to kiss you desperately. your tongues played with each other and his alcoholic breath invaded you completely.
"are you going to cum? uh? i can feel your pussy squeezing my fat cock. come on, cum in my mouth."
könig pulled out of you and brought his mouth to your wet pussy. he licks and sucks every part of your folds like he's wanted to do it for a long time, and he did. he brought his large hands to your thighs and squeezed them tightly, preventing you from closing your legs.
you pulled his hair hard as your orgasm hit. könig moaned over your pussy and tried to collect all your flavor with his tongue.
before you could react, he sat up and positioned himself on top of you jerking his cock quickly while moaning your name. in a matter of seconds his abundant warm cum fell onto your belly and a moan of relief left his mouth.
"fuck, cutie... now, can you let me cum inside you, please, please?"
with a face like that, how can you refuse? :(
#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig smut#könig x reader#konig x reader#konig smut#konig call of duty#cod smut#cod x reader#konig cod#loser!könig#loser!konig
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Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul (Here) | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.
Habits you steal:
Plan-Books (Inherited) : Riddle habitually carries a planner with all his tasks. A physical one, not an app in his cell phone like most students choose. You find it easier to manage and swap to paper-and-pen alternatives at his recommendation.
Tidiness (Inherited): Riddle is a nit-pickier when it comes to physical presentation. His habits of pressing his uniform, laying his clothes out every night, and dressing conservatively rub off. He has a point - ironed trousers do make a difference. Every morning he will redo your uniform tie. It's never knotted to his 'standard', and is his preferred excuse to greet you before class.
"Now, isn't that better? Surely you are more comfortable in ironed linens than those rags you'd been wearing as pajamas. You seriously found them lying in Ramshackle? Were you not given an allowance to buy basic needs? Ridiculous! The Headmaster's irresponsibility holds no bounds!" <- Utterly appalled that you've been sleeping in century-old robes. He supplies you with seven sets of pajamas, a spare uniform, and an iron + board for Ramshackle. All after reaming the Headmaster for neglect in the last dorm-head meeting - either Crowley coughed up the marks or Riddle will supply from his own bank. Seven have mercy if he chooses to become a lawyer instead of a doctor.
No Heels (Developed): Riddle has a height complex. He won't make a show of it, but you wearing heels does emasculate him. Especially if you're already taller naturally. For his sake, you choose to slay your outfits in flats.
"Are those new loafers? Oh - no, they're lovely. The embroidery is exquisite and I can see why Pomefiore's Housewarden models for their brand. I merely thought you preferred the heeled saddle-shoes we saw during the past weekend trip. I must have been mistaken. Never mind me. You look wonderful."
Playing Brain Teasers (Inherited): Riddle has this thing with memory - you don't know if he's really into preventing old-age Alzheimer's or what. He carries a book of teaser games like Sudoku, etc. for when he has downtime and you eventually get into them too.
"Oh! My Rose, would you care to join me for lunch? Trey's siblings recently mailed in a large collection of cross-words. You'll find they are both educational and entertaining - hm? I do not seem the 'type' for word-games? I assure you, even I can relax on occasion. There is no need to look so surprised." <- Riddle's been making a grand effort to do things he enjoys and become more personable. Trey's siblings did not send the collection. Riddle went into town and picked it out on his own. He also found a book on organizing excursions since he's big on quality time. He is dead-set on not being a neglectful or 'boring' partner.
Swear Jar (Developed): Tired of Riddle collaring Ace for his vulgar tongue, you suggest a Heartslabyul swear jar. When the jar gets filled, the money can be used to fund things like study materials and renovations for the dorm. Riddle liked this idea, but now implements it on anyone who sets foot in the Heartslabyul. Considering you spend most of your time there, you've had to develop a vast vocabulary beyond swearing. Oh - you also unironically use the word 'fiddlesticks' now.
Habits he steals:
Useless Expenses (Inherited): You are an enabler without a doubt. Riddle has always functioned with the bare bones - with function and efficiency being the number one priority. Ever so slowly - you've spoiled him with aesthetically pleasing stationary. At first all the needless purchases felt redundant - why buy the pillowcases with flowers when plain white is cheaper? You can invest in a higher quality this way. Yet you've ruined him with gifts that he had no choice but to use. Now he needs to buy the pens with little hedgehogs on them because studying doesn't feel the same with a plain ballpoint.
Slang Dictionary (Developed): With each passing day, all the students in Heartslabyul get more creative at bending the rules. That includes you. Riddle takes it upon himself to carry a 'little-black-book' full of all the sang words he is unfamiliar with. He does want to be a bit more 'hip' to understand you more, but at the same time he wants to bust any student being a smart-mouth. It's an ongoing battle *sigh*.
"Apologies, could you repeat that term for me? Surely it must be relevant to my lecture if you and Ace are whispering. 'Let him cook'? Do you think we are in a culinary lecture?! Have you not been listening to - ah. So it's in reference to letting me finish before interrupting...One moment. I need to make a note."
Chewing Gum (Developed): This is an ode to psychology. In short, eating is tied to a person's fight-or-flight. Instincts dictate that our bodies need to be in a calm state to eat comfortably. One day when Riddle was at his wits end, you tossed him a pack of sugarless gum and told him to chew. Disregarding Trey's unholy dental screeching, Riddle develops a gum dependence for when he's stressed out. On the bright side, his jaw has never been so sharp.
“Mimicry? You must be mistaken. Even if my influence has affected their person, surely there are only positive developments” == Riddle denies any changes if confronted. In truth, he’s well aware of how much you’ve helped him grow. It’s the opposite accusation that spikes concern. Riddle does not want others thinking you’re a mini-version of him. Rumors are not kind and neither is his current reputation. Making those amends is his burden to bare. He is flattered to see you paying attention to his mannerisms, and secretly proud that your bond is strong enough to affect the psyche.
Habits you steal:
Whistling (Inherited): Trey whistles while working in the kitchen or doing general chores around the dorm. He's not very loud with it, so not may students are bothered. Since you laze about in his shadow the tunes he goes through do become repetitive. Now you do the same when cleaning up Ramshackle. Grim wants to knock you both out because he can't take it anymore.
"Ah -- How'd you know it was me in here? Just because I bake for the un-birthday parties doesn't mean I live in the kitchen, you know. My whistling? Huh. Never thought that would be my calling card but there are worse things, haha"
Head-Scratching (Inherited): Trey's got a habit of scratching the back of his head when he's uncomfortable or nervous. That, or rubbing at the nape of his neck while adverting eye contact. You start doing this too whenever you're being scolded or put in a tough situation.
Dental Hygiene (Inherited): By far the most obvious shared trait. Trey enforces his dental habits onto everyone- you are no exception. You now own four different kinds of floss, two toothbrushes (one being electric), and have a strict hygiene routine. Your pearly whites have never been so clean. Eventually you become somewhat of a secondary enforcer, policing anyone who sleeps over your dorm to take care of themselves before bed. All of Heartslabyul learns that there is no going back when you scold Riddle for not brushing after his teatime tart, and live to tell the tale.
"Hey - uh, weird question? Were you handing out floss to the Spelldrive Team yesterday? Seriously? I though Grim was pulling my leg - oh, no! It's not weird at all! Those guys should have a better routine for all the meat they eat when bulking. I'm just shocked you got through to them." <- Very proud. Mildly cocky. He's been itching to get those negligent jocks to floss after their banquets his entire tenure, but steered away from that conflict like the plague. Thank you for making his dreams come true. Now if you could maybe get them to stop picking their gums with toothpicks?
Habits he steals:
Overbuying Food (Developed): Being a baker's son, Trey's good with finances and money. He's also meticulous with the ingredients he purchases for his bakes. You are not. You go to Sam's shop, buy whatever is on sale, and then bring it back home to improvise. This ends poorly more often than not, and behold! Trey has two Ramshackle sluggers snooping around his kitchen for eats. This is unpredictable and therefore he now never knows what amount to buy. You've ruined him.
Phone Calls (Developed): Texting is easier. Especially since phone calls can be a commitment that Trey dislikes being wrapped up in. Whenever Cater's name pops up as the caller, Trey knows he's getting an ear full. The thing is that you never. answer. your. phone. Either the text gets lumped in with the hundreds of missed messages you have, or Grim stole your cell to play mobile games. So Trey gives up and only ever calls. Either Grim will answer or you'll pick up thinking it's the snooze of your alarm.
"Hello? Prefect, where are you? It's me, Trey. Just calling to see if you're still coming to the Un-Birthday party? Riddle's getting a bit nervous since the schedule's set for the next hour. Grim's already here with Ace and Deuce - uh, want Cater to send a double to pick you up? I have a sinking feeling that you're asleep...Call me? Please?" <- He was correct. You called back not a moment after, half-asleep and hauling ass not to be late.
Speaking in Propositions (Inherited): Trey's normally good at keeping neutrality in a conversation, but getting a clear answer out of Yuu you is like solving a rubix cube. Either it's easy and instant, or a long game. Eventually your habit of indecisiveness rubs off on him and he asks questions more than answers them. Evidently this gets his younger classmen to stop asking for favors unless they really need to.
“Aha - really? I didn’t notice at all. Okay. Okay, I picked up on a few hints. What’s so wrong with them taking after me? It’s cute, right?” == Trey is the observant sort that picks up on his influence quickly. Not just anyone carries floss in their pocket at all times - and the looks from his dorm-mates when you offer some up is enough for the realization to click. Trey’s used to playing the respectable sort, and finds it endearing that you’re taking his good notes to heart. In truth, most of Trey’s mimicry is intentional. He’s a flexible guy who doesn’t mind altering his habits to fit your needs. Easier this way, y’know?
Habits you steal:
Speaking in Acronyms(Inherited): Now this is scary. The first time it happened, you had to take a pause and just re-evaluate your entire life. You don't use them nearly as often as Cater does, but somewhere along the line your brain must have rewired to speak in internet lingo. O-M-G you're TOTALLY twinning with him right now, period :)
Nicknames (Inherited): Again, frightening. You once swore against ever calling him Cay-Cay. It isn't very slay-slay. Yet you can only hear him use nicknames for so long until you're unconsciously calling people by them too. Especially since he's always dishing gossip. It starts in your head, which is fine. It's not like they know. Then you call Lilia 'Lils' and that old fart is just grinning behind his sleeve because ohoho~ young love <3
"Did you just- AHA! OMG DO IT AGAIN?! Wait, gotta get my camera out for this - wha? Oh, that's totes not fair! C'mon. Call me Cay-Cay. Just once! I won't even post it to Magicam, please? Lils won't believe me without proof! Pleasssssseeeee - " <- He actually doesn't want you to call him Cay-Cay all the time. Cater likes you using his given name, since it's more personal. Although the way it obviously slipped out on accident is just too cute to ignore.
Reality TV (Inherited): At first you don't like the gossip. It's cheesy, a bit annoying, and the shaky camera-work for nearly every show is headache inducing. Cater likes his dose of drama in his free-time, and Ramshackle has a tv that no one is using. It starts with him watching while you do other things around the dorm. Yet each time you pass the living area, you take longer to leave. Lingering around like one of the ghosts. Then he pulls you in with snacks and starts giving the low-down of what's going on, pulling out a bottle of tangerine shimmer polish to paint your nails. It's just one episode, watch it for him? Please? Oh no. No. No. Suddenly you're invested in who's the baby-daddy of little Ricky and what Chantel is going to do because her sister just lost the house to foreclosure.
"#KingdomOfDeadbeats - am I right? Ugh. I'm so glad we met if that's the dating scene back home...What?! I know it isn't real! Don't be a dummy, I was just joking! Ah! Stop! Don't hit me!" <- Half-hearted jokes about going on one of those talk-shows one day. You're an alien, after all - imagine the juicy drama and views his account would get from doing an interview? It's all jokes though. Cater likes spilling the tea, but hates being it. Don't ever abandon him and go out for milk though, kay? He doesn't want to pay Grim's child support. Otherwise he might have no choice smh
Habits he steals:
Phone/Web Games (Inherited): Cater's phone is mainly full of social media. He's not too into the gaming scene, it's not his peeps y'know? Alas, you download a few dress-up games and one MMO on his phone. First off - props on getting his phone. That's Cay-Cay's lifeline and not just anyone gets to play with it. Pray tell - what is this Wonderstar Planet (props if you know what is being ref.) and how can he become the most influential digital streamer on it? Congrats. He's addicted.
"Who's this Muscle Red and why's he bombing our raid - AH! He just tea-bagged me! So not cool...Prefect? STOP LAUGHING WE HAVE BETS ON THIS MATCH! There goes my collab opportunity, big fail" <- Muscle Red continues to make an appearance. Eventually he becomes Cater's official rival on stream, and Lils is all to invested in the tea cater drops during club meets. Side note. You're the one who gave 'muscle red' Cater's domain code. The lore thickens.
Internet Caution (Developed): This goes without saying, but Cater's well-known in the Magicam scene. He's very forward and knows his way around using charisma. Since you're not in the scene as much, he becomes more cautious of where and when he does streams. The change is so subtle that only the most observant people will pick up on it - but Cay-Cay doesn't want any creepos popping in if y'know what I'm saying. His sisters were the ones to instigate this change.
“Awe~ SRSLY?! That’s fresh news to my ears but good, right? Ne, are there any clips or pics? I need my evidence, y’see. Especially if my cutie is off taking notes from their one and only. C’mon, spill the tea!” == Cheeky Cater is well aware of what’s happening. He’d humor anyone out for some light teasing - after all, he isn’t by your side at all hours. His walls are probably the second most difficult in all of campus to bypass, so he’s both sweetened and nerved to see you picking up on his mannerisms. That’s proof of a strong attachment, after all.
Habits you steal:
Knuckle Cracking (Inherited): Deuce still does this from his biker days. It could be because joint pain from past fights, or possibly air retention in his knuckles from studying. Regardless, Deuce cracks his knuckles at least once every few hours and you began to mimic him. Some people groan at the popping sounds but it really does feel good to release the tension. Let's just hope neither of you dislocate any fingers on accident.
"Stop that! G-geez, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Thought you broke a finger...your hands are stiff? That just means you're studying a lot! I think...uh, let's break? I think there's some leftovers in the kitchen." <- Deuce 100% gets needing to pop those air bubbles. His hands get stiff from studying all the time, but don't crack them too much or you might dislocate something. Side note - he shows you how to wrap your fingers with a soothing salve. He used to do it after fights, but now it's a great help after class.
Double Notes (Developed): Deuce tries. He really does. Yet the lad just isn't great when it comes to book smarts. Seeing that he is dedicated to turning over a new leaf, you make a habit of copying all your notes. He isn't allowed to share them with Ace or Grim - else all bets are off. Sometimes you leave little 'good job' stickers on the last page for him. Is he a toddler? No. Does he peel the stickers off and save them? Totally. He is a good noodle. Suck it Ace.
Sewing (Developed): He breaks things. Most of the time it's an accident. You've learned to carry a mini-sewing kit for all the rips in Deuce's uniform. Same for mini remedies for stains and other problems. It's not like he's trying to get grass stains all over his under-shirt or to split the seam in his gloves (nearly every week). It just happens, and every time he comes to you with a kicked-puppy look with a promise of it being the last time. It is never the last time.
"Uhm...hun'? It happened again. I'm so sorry for bothering you but Housewarden is going to kill me if he sees the tear in my blazer! Can you fix it?! I can't handle another collar with my exam tomorrow! I need to breathe to focus! - really!? I owe you one! Snacks are on me tonight."
Habits he steals:
Bottomless Stomach (Developed): Have leftovers from dinner? Bring them over. He'll get the tubba-ware back in 1-2 days. Coupon for buy-one-get-one at Sam's? He'll take the extra and polish it off in less than a minute. Deuce becomes a human garbage disposal and is taking the unwanted condiments off your sandwich to eat. Just pick them off and leave 'em on the corner of his lunch plate. Even if he dislikes it, he'll down it so you don't have to.
"Mm. Oh, thanks hun' - its that all you're eatin'? You don't like the steam bun? It is a bit dry, but wasting food is disrespectful to the cooks! I'll finish it for you so have my fruit instead. You still need to eat" <- 10/10 very thoughtful and not picky at all. He is grateful to eat your cooking and will gobble up all leftovers at Ramshackle, but doesn't think twice to sharing meals in the cafeteria. He will notice though if you do not eat enough. Restocks the snack cabinet if he sees it's empty. Is touched if you routinely share things you know he enjoys, like saving half your frittata on purpose.
Early Riser (Inherited): See - even if you hate the mornings, there is no choice at Night Raven College. As Ramshackle Prefect you need to be up to take care of business before class. Deuce becomes your personal alarm clock because he wants some time with you before everyone else joins in. Mind you that he lives with three other dudes who threaten to end him every morning because his alarm wakes them up too. Eventually he can wake up without it, but the time leading is unpleasant.
"W-what? Seriously? I've been trying to be more like them! They're a good person and responsible so I've been trying to follow their example. To think we've been doing the same thing this entire time...." == Why would you ever imitate him? He's been trying his damn best to become an honor student worth respecting, and has a long way to go. To think you're comfortable enough with him to mimic his mannerisms? It's a pipe dream, one he doesn't grasp until it's put right in front of his face. You don't let anyone else pick off your plate other than Grim. The next time his clothes tear, he's already handing off his tie before realizing just what's happening. When you wrap his knuckles after a six-hour lock in at the library? He can't help but feel proud at how neat the bandages are. Suddenly the dark memories of hiding bruised knuckles from his mom are pacified with healing balm. Deuce views this development as a gift, and is grateful. Very, very grateful.
Habits you steal:
‘I owe you’ cards (Inherited): Ace's favorite social invention - the 'solid'. Nothing spells new-low like getting your friends to do stuff in exchange for a favor in the future. Most of the time Ace counts on people forgetting he owes them one, but you're not so gullible. The only difference between you both is that while Ace never fulfills his solid, you have a conscience. Give it a few more years. He'll get ya.
"I know this is the third ticket this week but - Oh! C'mon, cut a guy some slack, would you? I'm sorry for bein' late to our date. Yeah, it was shitty. I'm not trying to fight it, aright? I'm here now so let's have some fun and you can chalk three strikes on my tab. I'll even buy ya some candy - Ah! Okay! Two candies but that's where my charity ends!" <- Evidently, the 'I-owe-you' tabs cancel each other out from how often you both call in favors. It's just an excuse to do acts of service or express apologies without being too mushy. Ace is definitely keeping a track record of them though. Expect an ongoing log that dates back to the week you met, when he showed up homeless, collared, and looking to couch surf.
Profanity (Inherited): Ace swears like a sailor. Maybe not so much in his dorm because *cough* he's being policed. He holds no such reservations when you're both alone at Ramshackle. Unfortunately his potty mouth has a mind of it's own - it taints you, and you are a sham of a prefect. Ace earned a week-long collar for teaching you some Twisted-Wonderland exclusive curses. Riddle is not pleased.
Leaving the Windows Unlocked (Developed): There are only so many times he can sneak in through your window before the adrenaline-induced charm wears off. You have class in the morning, and can't be bothered to deal with him on nights he can't pass out in his dorm. Thank seven you have all of Ramshackle to yourself - because Heartslabyul sounds like a nightmare with the roommate situation. You can't leave the front door open for obvious reasons, but most nights the guest-bedroom window will be left slightly ajar in case he needs a place to crash.
"Pssst! Oi! Prefect! ...ugh, Grim! Wake them up, man! The latch is stuck. Don't go back to bed you furball! HEY! IT'S FREAKIN COLD OUT HERE SO LET ME IN ALREADY" <- Please let him in. If Ace has to spend one more night in that stinky dorm with three dudes, he'll string one of their dirty gym socks over your bed. No mercy.
Sleeping with Earplugs (Developed): Bitch Ace snores.
Habits he steals:
Notes Memo (Developed): Ace is bad with remembering things. Anniversaries? Dates? Allergies? He admits to not putting in a great amount of effort, but you can't say he doesn't try at all. He has a notes block on his phone dedicated to things like your go-to takeout orders and preferences. He even has a few alarms set days before any important events because even if you say no-gifts or plans...yeah, he's not that stupid.
Excessive Yawning (Inherited): You're always tired - it wasn't Ace's problem before but now he does feel a bit guilty. Dragging you into his messes felt different when you were just the prefect, y'know? Regardless, it's human instinct to mimic each other's demeanor so he'll openly yawn all the time - normally in succession of you.
"Hey...you're dozing off again. Am I seriously that boring to hang around? - Nah. Just messin' with you. I'd suggest taking a nap during next period but I doubt a goody-goody like you is gonna take that advice. Let's just ditch juice at lunch and go back to the dorm. Don't get mad if I forget to wake you up though"
Medications (Developed): Ace is the last person to become a human apothecary, but he's always got a pack of pain-reliever meds in his pocket with a few bandages, etc. He also attached one of those tiny capsule bottles to his keyring with some stomach meds inside. You took a spill running laps? Dang man. That sucks. Here's a band-aid for your knee. Curse you for making him the slightly-more responsible one.
"Eh..what, like it's a shock? You saying I'm a bad influence? Cause yeah, that checks. Nothin' I can do if they want to take a card outta my deck though," == Ace is entirely neutral on the topic. He is definitely smug that you're coming over to the dark side, but he doesn't need anyone to point it out. He was your first after all. Maybe the start could have been a bit better - but hey, you came around. It's not like he's hurting anyone by helping build your backbone. Although Ace will instantly deny going soft for you in any way, shape, or form.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twst imagines#heartslabyul#twisted wonderland riddle x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#twst trey clover#trey clover x reader#caterdiamond x reader#twst cater diamond#deuce spade x reader#twst deuce spade x reader#ace trappola x reader#twst ace trappola x reader#heartslabyul x reader#twst x yuu#twst headcanons
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Detention
Hong Eunchae x Male Reader
Tags: anal, bad cop, begging, daddy kink, dungeon, facial, (lots of) flogging, hole switcheroo, nipple clamps, punishment, teen, vibrator, virgin
Word count: 4020
Every time someone turns 18, they want to try something new that was once not allowed to them. It was no different for Eunchae, who had just got her driver's license.
Eunchae hopped in the car alongside her group leader, Chaewon, who would be instructing her. Both had taken a couple of drinks a few hours before as well but thought it was no big deal. However, things were about to change quickly.
A cop stopped the car Eunchae was driving. "Can you please show me your license?" you asked her. Eunchae started searching her pockets but couldn't find it, growing increasingly desperate. "I-I can't find it," she said.
"Sure, I'll check your alcohol levels too," you said, handing Eunchae a breathalyzer. She was shocked as she found out she was over the legal limit, feeling she was truly screwed. The teenager started crying, but you were merciless towards her. "You're under arrest," you announced to her, dismissing Chaewon shortly after as she passed her test.
Eunchae looked scared as you drove her to jail, detaining her in an individual cell. You kept looking at her tall, young body as she walked around the cell, pondering if she would be able to get bailed out without being involved in a scandal.
"How much do I have to pay to get set free?" Eunchae asked. You, however, just ignored her, checking the paperwork of her arrest. "Come on, I know you can hear me," she said. You finally got up and handed her a few papers. "I need you to sign this," you said.
"Can you explain to me what this paperwork is about?" Eunchae kept asking. "Damn, just sign it," you say, losing your patience and exiting the room. "Please, come back; don't leave me here," Eunchae begs.
"I'll sign it," Eunchae says as you return a couple of minutes later. "Good, that's what I wanted," you tell her. "Now, can you please get me out of here?" she asks. "Yes, but first I need you to take your clothes off," you tell her.
"Why is that necessary?" Eunchae asks. "I'm the one giving the commands; you just obey them, young brat," you say. "Fine," Eunchae says as she starts to strip herself, struggling as you handcuffed her during the arrest. "This is so frustrating," she says. "COME ON, TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES, YOU FUCKING SLUT," you yell at her, getting mad.
Eunchae obeys and slowly strips herself down. "HURRY UP, YOU'RE TAKING TOO LONG," you keep screaming. "You could help and take those handcuffs off me," she says. "Nah, that's not gonna happen," you tell her. "Now, take off your panties," you tell her.
"Ok, now what?" Eunchae asks. "Put your hands right here," you tell her, indicating an opening at the cell as you take her handcuffs off, staring at her naked teen body. "Put your hands behind your back, turn around, and put your ass over here," you keep commanding. Eunchae obliges. "Now spread your fucking ass for me," you keep ordering.
You pick up a butt plug and insert it in Eunchae's virgin asshole. It takes you a while as her tight butthole doesn't budge with the pressure of the object, but you finally manage to do it. "Ok, now put your clothes back on quickly," you tell her as Eunchae follows your orders, and you cuff her hands back again but release her from jail.
"Let's go to the room; I need to ask you some questions," you say to her. Eunchae is scared, fearing you'll do something bad to her. "Don't panic; if you behave well, you'll soon be free. Just be quiet," you tell Eunchae as you grab her face and open the doors of the room. However, as soon as she is in there, Chaewon calls her, and her phone rings loudly.
"You had one rule and managed to violate it, such a fucking brat. Now you're going to the dungeon," you tell Eunchae. As she gets into the dungeon, you strip her naked, tying her body to a table while putting a gag in her mouth. She spots the signed photos of many idols, including her fellow groupmates. Her driver's license is on your desk, making her wonder if this was a set-up all along.
"I'm gonna punish you, young brat. All you had to do was follow my rule; now you'll face the consequences for being a bad girl," you tell Eunchae, looking at her face as you carry a whip in your hands. "Do you understand me?" you ask Eunchae, giving her naked ass a couple of spankings. Eunchae nodded positively as her mouth was covered.
"I don't think you had enough discipline; now I'm gonna teach you how to be a proper adult. Do you understand me?" You ask her, giving her ass a few more spankings. Eunchae agrees, but with the gag in her mouth, the words struggle to come out. "I WANT TO HEAR IT LIKE YOU FUCKING MEAN IT," you scream at her.
"How much do you want me to spank you?" you ask Eunchae. "Say it," you continue as her words keep getting muffled. "A lot," you finally manage to hear what she said. "And what do you want me to do to you?" you keep asking. "I want you to fuck my virgin holes," she answers.
Hearing it drives you crazy. You spank Eunchae's ass multiple times. "That's what she wants, you fucking bitch, a good fucking punishment," you tell her, laying your hands all over her body. "You're such a good little girl learning a lesson and teaching you the fucking rules, do you understand?" you keep asking. "Yes," Eunchae answers. "That's what I want to hear," you say.
You bring an even larger whip to hit Eunchae. "Is that what you want? Should have followed the rules, slutty bitch," you tell her, hitting her body with multiple angles but focusing especially on her ass. "What do you say when I spank you?" you ask her. "You say, 'Thank you, Daddy," you quickly answer.
"Thank you, Daddy," Eunchae says, trying to make you hear it despite the mouth gag. "If you take your punishment well, I'll give you a present. Are you gonna behave?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy," she answers as you keep flogging her 18-year-old body, turning it red.
"I think that's good enough," you say, looking at Eunchae's body now full of your red marks. You bring a Hitachi vibrator and place it in her virgin pussy. "What do you say?" you keep asking. "Thank you, Daddy," she answers. "Louder," you say. "THANK YOU, DADDY," she screams. "Now, follow the rules and don't cum without my permission," you continue, increasing the speed of the vibrator.
Eunchae tries to resist as the vibrator heavily massages her pussy. "Don't fucking cum," you tell her, taking the gag out of her mouth as the massage only gets more intense, making Eunchae moan with the pleasure it gives her. "How does it feel?" you ask her. "It feels so good, Daddy," she answers. "How many times have you had one of those massaging your pussy?" you ask her. "A few times, Chaewon unnie has one, and sometimes I borrow it to masturbate while she's away," Eunchae answers.
You spread Eunchae's tight pussy open, making it vibrate further. She moans, trying to resist as much as possible not to cum as you pick up the speed of your moves. Some juices leak out of her teen cunt. "Let me put you right on your fucking clit," you say, spanking her as well. "Thank you, Daddy," she says.
"I think I'm being too nice to you; what do you think?" you ask Eunchae. "I don't know," she answers. "You don't know? Well, looks like you need more discipline," you say, hitting her with a whip. "Looks like you need some cock," you say. "Yes, daddy, my virgin pussy is aching for your cock," Eunchae answers.
"Say it like you mean it," you demand of Eunchae, shoving your clothed pants in her face. "I need your cock so bad, daddy," she answers, licking it. "LOUDER, BEG FOR YOU," you demand. "I NEED YOUR FUCKING COCK DEEP IN MY VIRGIN PUSSY," she screams shortly after.
"And what are you gonna do to get it?" you ask Eunchae. "Anything you want, daddy," she answers. "Okay, there you go," you say, putting a pair of clamps on her nipples. "Perfect, now I can give you some of that cock, but you better keep begging for it," you tell her.
"Please put that cock in my pussy, please," Eunchae keeps begging. You make it as hard as possible for her, shoving your dry shaft inside her virgin cunt. "Ahhhh, oh yeah," she moans as you go very slow, amazed at how tight her teen pussy is. "Tell me how it feels," you say to her. "So fucking good, daddy," she says as you slowly pick up the speed and grab her ass.
"Oh yes, you work my pussy so good, daddy, how does it feel to you?" Eunchae asks. "It feels so fucking tight; how does my big cock feel in it?" you reply, grabbing her hair. "Amazing, keep fucking and spanking me, daddy," Eunchae begs as your thrusts get faster and faster.
"Let me take this out," you say, taking a little break and removing the butt plug you placed inside her anus some hours ago. It struggles even more to get out just like it did to get in, but once it does, you can see her perfect virgin pink asshole and enjoy how small and cute it looks.
"Tell me how much you want that cock back; beg for it," you demand of Eunchae. "Please, Daddy, put it back in my pussy," she says. "Say it again," you tell her. "Please, put your cock in me," she replies. You got much faster this time. "Thank you, Daddy; keep spanking my ass," Eunchae begs. "Are you gonna fucking start listening to me? Oh fuck," you ask, but get interrupted by a groan as Eunchae's teen walls squeeze your fat cock hard. "You like that 18-year-old pussy a lot, don't you, daddy?" she asks.
"Oh yeah," you tell Eunchae. "Now I'll make you taste it," you continue, grabbing her head and fucking her face at full speed, making Eunchae choke hard on your dick. "Open those fucking eyes," you say as your cock gets deep in her throat and you treat her face like an onahole. "What do you say?" you ask every time she gags and you spank her ass. "Thank you, Daddy," she answers. "Then open your mouth," you continue, shoving your cock further balls deep in her mouth and covering her nose.
"You want more of this fucking cock?" you ask Eunchae as you grab her hair. "Yes, please, daddy," she begs as you jerk it off. You get back at fucking her pussy from behind. "Just like that, daddy, give it to me; it feels so fucking good," she says. You keep pulling her hair as you pound her teen cunt faster and faster, her ass completely red after so much spanking. "Is that what you want, young brat?" you ask her. "Ohhhh yeah, fuck my tight little pussy," Eunchae keeps begging as she answers you.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes," you keep saying as you get deeper and deeper inside Eunchae's pink pussy. "Keep going; show me how much you like that pussy," she tells you. "Don't fucking move," you say as you give her clit some rubbing and keep pumping her teen cunt. Eunchae turns into a moaning mess. "Yes, daddy, you fuck that pussy so good," she keeps saying, her perky young tits bouncing and her cheeks getting clapped as your thrusts only get more intense. "Oh yeah, daddy, use that young pussy," she says, making you grow even more animalesque, fucking her like a bull and masturbating her clit hard.
"May I please cum?" Eunchae begs as your big hands are all over her throbbing clit. You don't answer her question, just getting more and more committed to fucking her teen pussy harder and harder before finally answering. "Yes, cum all over my cock, you slutty brat," you say.
You slow down and let Eunchae's juices coat your cock. "Taste that fucking cum," you tell her when she's finally done, turning around and shoving your creamy cock in her young face. "That's it, open that fucking mouth, show me how much you enjoy that fucking cum," you say to her. "Thank you, Daddy," she says.
You grab Eunchae's face and spit on her. "You want more of this fucking cock?" you ask. "Yes, daddy," she quickly answers. "You want it in your fucking ass too?" you keep asking. "Yes, please," she answers. "Then beg louder," you reply.
"PLEASE, DADDY, I WANT YOU TO USE ALL MY HOLES," Eunchae screams. "Beg louder," you command as you spank her butt. "PLEASE, PUT YOUR COCK IN MY ASS," she says. "Keep saying it," you continue. "Put it in me, in my ass, please," she keeps begging.
You shove your cock in Eunchae's butthole in one go, as the butt plug spread it enough for an easy slide. "Ouch," she moans as if she were stabbed. "Oh fuck," she keeps moaning as you punish her as if she was a veteran of anal sex like her unnie Chaewon, not a young girl who to this point had only inserted bananas and butt plugs up her asshole, but never a real cock.
"You like fucking my asshole, daddy?" Eunchae asks. "Yes," you say as you spank her butt. "How about you, bitch?" you reply. She answers positively, but you can clearly tell she's struggling with such a massive cock in her tiny teen asshole, especially with the speed you fuck it. "Don't move that fucking ass; you're getting fucking punished," you say to her.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, rub that clit, please. Thank you, Daddy," Eunchae says as it gives her some relief from the fast and deep thrusts you give inside her ass. "Keep going, daddy, you play with my clit so good," she says. "Oh, fuck yes, there you go; look at that ass getting stretched out by that big fat cock," you say, picking up the speed further. "FUCK," Eunchae screams as not even your hands in her clit can make her cope with the heat your cock puts in her asshole.
Luckily for her, you have some mercy and switch back to her pussy, but that doesn't change much, as Eunchae's holes are throbbing hard now. "OH FUCK YES," she screams as your cock goes back to pumping her cunt, losing no speed as it switches holes, staying at the same relentless pace.
"Back in your fucking ass," you say to Eunchae, at this point just toying with her teen holes. "Oh god, you're such a fucking tight slut," you say to her, clapping her cheeks and grabbing her hair. "OH DADDY, IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD, THANK YOU DADDY," she screams. "Open that fucking mouth," you reply, stretching it as you fuck her.
"Now taste your pussy and ass right there," you say, shoving your cock in her mouth one more time. "You want it back?" you soon ask. "Yes, I want it back in my holes, please," Eunchae answers. "Which hole do you want it?" you keep asking. "Anyone you want, daddy," she replies. "Give me an answer, bitch," you tell her. "I want you to keep fucking my ass," she says. "Say it again," you say. "I WANT YOU TO FUCK MY ASS, DADDY," she screams.
You give Eunchae's ass very heavy poundings. "Fuck yes, put that fucking ass up," you demand. "You like the way my asshole feels on your cock?" Eunchae asks. "Yes, it's so fucking tight, such a tasty little 18-year-old ass," you say as you spank her butt for the hundredth time.
"I want you to fucking cum like the slut you are," you tell Eunchae. "Yes sir, keep fucking my ass like that and I'll cum hard for you," she answers. "You better fucking cum on that cock or I'm gonna punish you," you say, picking up the speed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, OH FUCK," Eunchae moans as her asshole keeps getting stretched out. "Keep going; that feels so fucking good, ahhhh, yeahhh, ohhhh, thank you, daddy," Eunchae moans as you can't stop fucking her ass.
You pull out of Eunchae's ass and pick back the vibrator. "You're gonna cum all over it, do you understand?" you demand as you shove it on her pussy. "Yes, daddy," she answers. You massage her clit hard with it. "Right there," Eunchae says. "May I please cum?" she asks. "CUM," you give her a positive answer, letting her leak a lot of juices all over the table she's tied up to.
You quickly take advantage of Eunchae's weakness and shove your cock in her cunt. "Yes, please, put your cock back in my pussy," she begs. "FUCK, DADDY, I WANNA CUM ALL OVER YOUR COCK, YES, YES, YES, USE MY PUSSY, USE ALL MY FUCKING HOLES, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," she screams. "Yes, perfect," you say as you spank her ass and Eunchae cums all over your cock. "Keep that ass up," you continue.
Eunchae takes the little time you give her to breathe, but soon you flip her body around and start spanking her pussy. "I want you to beg again for my cock," you tell her. "I need your cock, need it in my fucking pussy so bad," she says as you put the vibrator back in her pussy. "Keep begging," you tell her. "I want your cock," she says. "It feels so good," she continues as the vibrator massages her clit. "More, you can beg better than that," you say, increasing the speed of the vibrator. "Give me your cock; I need it in my pussy, please, please, please, please," she continues, but you still ignore her pleading.
Eunchae tries to stretch her hands and jerk your cock off as she keeps begging for your cock. "Say it every time I hit you," you tell her, whipping her body. "I want your cock, I want your cock, I want your cock," she repeats countless times. "That's better," you tell her. "Is that what you want?" you ask, shoving it in her pussy. "Yes, thank you, Daddy," she answers.
You fuck Eunchae as you put the vibrator in her clit alongside it. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, ALL OVER MY CLIT," she screams. "YOU LIKE THAT, YOU FUCKING SLUT?" you ask her as you spank her face. "Yes, daddy, it feels so fucking good. Thanks for fucking me, daddy. Thanks for using my holes," she replies.
You switch back to Eunchae's ass. "Oh fuck, nice and slow," she begs, already completely wasted as the vibrator makes her clit throb further and further. "Yeah, yeah, just like that," she begs. "I want you to cum in my fucking cock again," you say to her. "Please, daddy, may I please cum all over that cock?" she begs. You spank her face. "Right there, right in my clit, FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM," Eunchae says.
"CUM ALL OVER IT, BITCH," you say, picking up the speed as you fuck Eunchae's ass and grabbing her waist. "Oh yeah," you say as she squirts all over your cock. But you don't stop, getting addicted to her teen holes and quickly moving to her pussy again. "OH FUCK, THAT FEELS GOOD, DADDY," Eunchae moans. "Oh yeah, sure it does," you say to her. You now just toy with her holes, switching from pussy to ass from time to time while hitting her face and her tits, treating Eunchae like a fucktoy as you choke her. "Don't get loud, you bratty bitch," you say, rubbing her clit hard and spanking her whole body with that whip.
"Thank you, Daddy, for using me like that," Eunchae says. You fuck her pussy hard, enjoying your cock bulge under her young belly. Then you switch to her ass and choke her harder than ever. The switcheroo keeps going, Eunchae's whole body getting redder and redder, her rolling her eyes and struggling to breathe as you grab her neck with full force and rub her clit. "Please, daddy, rub my fucking little clit; you're gonna make me cum again," Eunchae moans as she gets completely overwhelmed by your moves in her cunt and her clit. "Fuck, just like that," she says.
"Is that what you fucking want?" you ask Eunchae. "Yes, daddy, but I want your cum too," Eunchae answers. "Then beg for my cum," you reply, spanking her face and keeping your fingers all over her clit, playing a lot with it. You spank her pussy and switch back to her ass, fucking it as hard as possible while you choke her. "I want you to make me cum with that fucking ass," you tell Eunchae as you pump it hard, her struggling hard as you have fucked her for nearly half an hour at this point. "You like that fat pussy too?" she asks as you pinch her clit while fucking her ass. "I like you shutting your fucking mouth, you bratty slut," you answer her.
Ass to pussy, pussy to ass, you keep switching, much to Eunchae's enjoyment. "Use my holes, Daddy; pick whatever you want," she begs as you fuck both of them really hard. Her face is now completely red from all the spanking and choking. "I want your cum," Eunchae begs. "Look at this bitch showing her true colors," you say.
"I want your cum all over my face," Eunchae begs as she gets choked and pounded. "Use my holes, use my fucking pussy, use them for your pleasure," she keeps begging. "Open your mouth wider; show me how much you want that cum," you command. But then Eunchae says the words that finally push you over the edge.
"I want you to cum all over my pretty little 18-year-old face," she says. As soon as you hear it, you pull your cock out of her cunt and ejaculate all over her face, covering her full of sperm like a good teen slut. Eunchae sticks her tongue out as she gets glazed, getting herself full of cum from her hair to her chin, kissing your cock as she thanks you for one final time. "Are you gonna start following the rules now?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy," she replies as you slap your cock in her face.
"You're free now," you say to Eunchae. "Thank you, Daddy," Eunchae says. But as soon as she is ready to get out of the dungeon, another girl arrives and catches both of you.
"Looks like she had a lot of fun," Chaewon says as she looks at Eunchae's face completely covered with your semen. "Sure she did," you tell her.
"Let me see how she tastes, hmmmm, delicious," Chaewon says, putting her mouth on your cock and tasting it as it's still full of your cum and Eunchae's juices. "You know, I think we should give her some extra training," she continues.
"Like what?" you ask.
"Let her learn some new positions and turn her into a proper slut," Chaewon says. "Are you ready, Manchae?" she asks her.
"Yes, unnie," Eunchae answers.
"Then sit your ass on his cock," Chaewon commands, and Eunchae obliges, following her unnie's instructions. "Lock her legs; let's see if this slut can take a full nelson," Chaewon instructs you.
"Oh fuck," Eunchae screams as soon as she's completely immobilized. "AHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she starts screaming as you resume pounding her ass under Chaewon's watch.
"Let me make this a little harder," Chaewon says, getting out of both your sights as she switches clothes while you keep fucking Eunchae, returning with a strap-on attached to her waist.
"Let's see if she can take this in her pussy too," the naughty unnie says.
"FUCKKKKKKKK," Eunchae screams, and her second round at the dungeon is just beginning.
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Baggy Shirts
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“Coming!” You called out, setting down your controller before heading to answer the door. “Can I help you?” You asked once you opened your door to see one of the most attractive men you’d ever seen in your life.
He looked amused and glanced at your shirt for a split second. “Uh, I’m your new neighbor. And I got some of your mail.” He held out a couple envelopes. At first he wasn’t sure about trying to get out of hunting- again, but he was rethinking that worry. You were cute.
“Oh, thank you.” You gave him a small smile before taking the mail. “I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself.
“I’m Dean. I’ll see you around.” With a wink, he was gone.
It wasn’t until you’d shut your door and looked down at your shirt. “Of course.” You muttered, realizing you were wearing your three sizes too big shirt that said ‘gore whore’ on it. To be fair, it was your day off and you’d planned to relax, play video games, and watch a horror movie or two. You hadn’t expected a hot new neighbor to knock on your door.
You saw him a few more times in passing over the following weeks, the two of you giving the other a friendly wave. He hadn’t had a reason to knock on your door, and you hadn’t had a reason to knock on his. Until one really nice day where you’d left your sliding glass door cracked for some fresh air, which was something you’d done a million times before. You didn’t expect a visitor.
“Hi, sweetheart. Can I help you?” Dean smiled when he opened the door.
“This is so very awkward.” You muttered to yourself. “I left my sliding glass door open, and well…now there’s a goose in my living room, and I have no idea how to get it out.” You told him.
He chuckled. “There’s a goose in your apartment?” He asked, clearly amused.
You nodded. “Yes, and geese are mean little bastards. They have teeth .” You made a face.
“So, you want me to go confront the toothy little bastard?” He raised an eyebrow and pointed at himself. Ghosts, vamps, and demons he had no issue with. But a goose ? That was the most out of left field thing ever.
“Honestly, my idea went as far as knocking on your door. My other neighbor is an 80 year old lady.” You chuckled, shrugging.
Dean nodded. “I’d choose me, too.” He told you. “Alright, let’s go face this thing.” He stepped out and shut his door behind him. “Do you own anything besides baggy shirts with weird sayings on them?” He teased.
You nudged him lightly. “You’ve seen me in other clothes!” You laughed. “It’s my day off and I want to be comfortable.” You pointed out. “Are you telling me you don’t rock sweats and a comfy top on your days off?”
“Today is a day off for me.” He smirked as the two of you reached your door. “But, I get it.” He added. Taking a deep breath, he put his hand on the doorknob. “Let’s do this.” He let himself in, you right behind him. “Do you have a broom?”
“Of course I have a broom.” You told him. Who didn’t have a broom? “It’s…outback.” You added sheepishly. “I swept my back porch this morning and didn’t bring it back in.”
Dean let out a breath. “Okay, let me go get my broom. I am not going near that thing without something to shoo it with.” He moved around you to head back to his apartment for a moment. However, he walked into his door. “Uh oh.”
Peeking out of your apartment, you raised an eyebrow. “Issue?”
“Funny thing. I locked myself out of my apartment.” He gave you an adorable ‘oops’ look. “Can I use your phone to call my brother? He has the spare key.”
“Your cell is in your apartment, isn’t it?” You chuckled. When he nodded, you glanced over your shoulder. “See, my cell phone is on my couch. Give me a second. I’m sure some game I’ve played prepared me for this…” How hard would it be to sneak over, grab your phone, and bolt?
Dean watched you move to the back of the couch, moving as quietly as you could. Your eyes were on the goose, who was no longer alone. There was a slightly smaller one closer to the couch. You reached over the back of the couch, grabbed your phone, and let out a small scream when the closer goose lunged. A moment later, you were back by him, pushing him out of the apartment, and closing the door behind you.
Laughing, you held out your phone. “Here.”
Your laughter was contagious, and he was laughing soon, too. “Oh, this is gonna be fun to explain.” He was grinning as he dialed the number. “Hey, Sam, can you come let me into my apartment?” He asked. “Uh, neighbor has a couple geese in her apartment. Went to help her and I need my broom from my apartment…Realized I’m locked out.” As his brother spoke, he listened and hung his head. “I didn’t even think of that. Yeah, see you soon.”
“Didn’t think of what?”
“Why don’t we call animal control?” He handed you your phone back.
“I didn’t think of that, either…” You mused. “But for a couple geese? Isn’t that for like snakes, gators, bears, and things like that? Will I get laughed at for calling about geese?”
He shrugged. “I mean, geese are mean little bastards. They probably get it.” He assured you. “And, what can it hurt?”
After a moment, you sighed and nodded. “True.” You agreed, pulling up the browser on your phone. “Sorry for wasting part of your day off.” You told him as you typed ‘animal control’.
“Eh, I wasn’t really doing anything anyway.” He brushed it off. Hell, he was still trying to figure out what he even wanted to do on his days off. Part of him was itching for a hunt, and the rest of him was pushing that part down.
“I owe you. Dinner on me once this is all dealt with.” You smiled at him. Hitting dial on the number for animal control, you started to pace the hall. A habit you’d had since you were a kid. “Hi, uh, do you deal with geese?” You asked when they answered. “There’s a couple in my living room, and we can’t get them out.”
Dean leaned against the wall, watching you as you pulled your hair out of a ponytail and ran your fingers through your hair. He’d been wanting to see you more, not just in passing, but he hadn’t been sure of how to go about it. He had to give it to the goose for making it happen.
After a couple minutes of you talking to them, you hung up and turned to him. “They’ll be here in half an hour. Apparently they’re short today and they’re finishing up with a rogue snake.” You explained. “So, what sounds good for dinner?” You asked.
“Burgers are always a win.” He said easily. “Pizza’s good, too.”
“Oh, the pizza joint down the street makes a mean cheeseburger pizza! How’s that?” It was honestly your favorite item on the menu.
Dean grinned at your excitement. “Sounds good to me. Eat there, or at one of our places?” He asked, wondering if he’d get to take you out on a date one day.
You thought for a moment. “Out this time.”
“This time?” He asked, hopeful.
“Oh, uh…” You blushed. Would that weird him out?
“Maybe next time can be at my place.” He suggested easily.
“Dean.” Came a voice from down the hall, making you look over. “Hi, I’m Sam.” He introduced himself, holding out his hand.
“Y/N.” You shook his hand, feeling extra short next to him.
“Thanks for coming, man.” Dean chuckled as Sam went to unlock his door. “Animal control should be here in like twenty or so minutes.” He went on before reaching into his apartment to grab his keys off the little table that was right inside.
“They’re currently dealing with a rogue snake. I’m sure they’d rather deal with that over geese.” You mused.
Sam chuckled at that. “Depends on what kind of snake.” He joked in return. “Anyways, since I’m up this way, wanna go grab dinner after, Dean?” He asked his brother.
“Thanks, Y/N is treating me to cheeseburger pizza once the geese are out of her apartment.” It was obvious that he was looking forward to it.
“Well, as a thanks for getting Dean back into his apartment, why don’t you join us?” You offered. You saw the slight disappointment on Dean’s face. “And then tomorrow I’ll make us burgers at my place.” You told him, hoping to show you weren’t inviting Sam to just not be alone with him or something. “We can watch a movie or something.”
“Tomorrow I won’t get off until 7, if that’s okay?”
You shrugged. “I don’t mind a late dinner.” You assured him.
Sam watched the pair of you, having a good feeling about this. Which made him take you up on your offer of pizza. “Sure, I could go for some pizza.” He smiled.
“And I will join you tomorrow for burgers. I’ll bring dessert.” Dean said happily.
You grinned at the pair of them. “I look forward to all of it. And I promise not to wear one of my weird baggy shirts.” You said playfully to Dean, making him laugh.
“I won’t argue if that’s what you want to wear.” He assured you. “But if you wear that ‘gore whore’ one, you may get some looks.”
“Gore whore?” Sam asked with a chuckle.
You playfully rolled your eyes. “I am a sucker for all things horror.” You told him. “And it was the shirt I was wearing when we first met.”
“That explains your current shirt.” He motioned to your shirt that had a chainsaw, Jason’s mask, two machetes, and Freddy’s glove making the word ‘love’ and then ‘is all I need’ written underneath. “I take you have have a lot of them?” He asked, amused.
“Nearly every time I see here there’s a different weird shirt. Unless she’s going to work, or coming back from work.” Dean chimed in. “I don’t think I’ve seen most of them more than once.”
“I will not be shamed for my choice in attire.” You stuck your tongue out at Dean.
Dean grinned, holding up his hands. “No shaming here.” He promised, wondering what you’d look like in his shirts. “Just an observation that you have a lot of shirts with weird sayings and graphics.”
“When your family knows you like weird things, shirts are a safe gifting option for holidays and birthdays.” You noted.
“When’s your birthday?” Sam asked, not wanting to just be awkwardly standing there.
“March 15th.” Which had just been a couple weeks before, and that meant a new shirt from your mom, a new game from your father, a shirt and socks from your brother, and a special edition of Sinister from your Uncle. It had been a good family night.
“Oh shit. Happy belated birthday.” Dean wondered if it would be weird to get you something now.
“Happy belated birthday.”
“Thanks, guys.” You smiled.
“Uh, we’re here about the goose?” Someone said from behind you, making you turn.
“There’s two. One is a bit smaller than the other.” You motioned to your apartment. “Right in the living room. Sliding glass door is open so maybe you’ll be able to herd them out.” You opened the door for the pair of them. “Good luck.” You said awkwardly as they walked by.
The younger looking one looked a tad nervous. “Hopefully this goes smoother than the snake.” He sighed.
It only took the two of them 10 minutes to get the geese out of your apartment, and you couldn’t thank them enough. “Alight, I’m gonna go change and get my purse. Want to wait here, or in the parking lot?” You asked them.
“We can just wait here, sweetheart.” Dean told you.
“Be right back.” You told them slipping into your apartment. Now you had to balance looking cute and looking casual.
Dean waited a beat before speaking. He looked at Sam and pointed to your door. “I’m gonna marry that cute weirdo.” He told him.
Sam grinned, shaking his head. “I look forward to that.” He gave his arm a pat, enjoying seeing his brother hopeful and happy.
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Tommy's Two Hundred
From the moment Tommy had joined the gay dating app, he’d spotted that the closest person to him geographically was a catfish. It was obvious from the little thumbnail picture that no one with a body that good could live so close by and him not know about it. The picture, showing the massive pecs and toned six pack were guaranteed to have been stolen from some straight bodybuilder somewhere in the world; but definitely not anyone who lived within at least two hundred miles of this backwards town in the middle of nowhere. The guy was probably some lonely, middle aged man seeking some attention that he did not deserve; attention that Tommy had no intention of bestowing upon him.
With his good looks and average height, Tommy soon found himself on a couple of dates with guys from the app. Some a little older; a couple still in college. He always got himself so excited before each one, having enjoyed endless kinky exchanges beforehand, back and forth. He liked it when the guys led the conversation with their horny talk, getting most aroused when they spoke about dominating him and tying him up. He gave these virtual suitors a deep, authorative voice in his head as he read out their messages, imagining the ways they’d seek their pleasure from him. In these fantasies, he built an entire persona for his dates; the way they spoke, the way they acted; the things they would do to him after getting back. He was his own worst enemy. No one could live up to such expectations. Despite being bold and brave behind the keyboard of their cell phones, the guys were never as Tommy pictured them in real life. They were polite and friendly; a little kinky perhaps, but only behind closed doors. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Tommy’s bubble to burst, leaving him stuck on a dull date with another boring Mr Average.
As Valentine’s Day rolled around once more, Tommy felt the sting of still being single at the age of twenty-four. Friends, who thought they were being helpful, lamented about how difficult it was to understand why a guy so good looking and successful was still on the shelf. Tommy, however, knew that he just wasn’t being plain enough with people about what he was really after. He’d wasted more than a couple of years of his time on guys who were never going to please him in the ways he most wanted. If he was going to find the man of his dreams, he would need to start his dating profile from scratch.
Stripping his shirt and binding his hands with rope, Tommy posed for his new profile picture. He updated his username to include his submissive nature. Then, it was finally time to work on the profile itself. He stripped it bare of the mundane details about his favourite hobbies and movies, his education and aspirations. In their place, he went to town about his kinky interests and desires. He wanted to submit himself to someone entirely, openly and without reservations. Like a form of cosmic ordering, he outlined in great detail the sort of kinky, dominant guy he was on the lookout for, and ended by posting a further picture of his toned, naked body, wrists and ankles bound with handcuffs.
With breathless excitement, Tommy saved his changes and waited with fizzing excitement for his first messages.
Nothing. Sure, his profile had had lots of views, but no one had felt compelled enough by it to reach out.
Days went by. Tommy began to feel that he had made a mistake; that he had exposed himself and his kinks too openly on the app. Perhaps, rather than being turned on by his pictures and words, they were laughing at him instead; his extreme submissive fantasies, too weird and niche for anyone to actually want to meet him. Maybe the man of his horny dreams didn’t actually exist.
By the end of the second week, Tommy had made up his mind to delete the account. He gave his profile one final read, cringing as he tried to imagine it from another person’s perspective, then he stormed onto the app settings and found the exact link he needed to erase it entirely.
Just as he did so, Tommy saw a message pop up on the screen:
‘Nice profile.’
Assuming sarcasm, Tommy skeptically tapped his way into his inbox and rolled his eyes when he saw that the message had actually come from the catfish profile of the guy who supposedly lived right here in town.
‘Thanks,’ he typed back, determined that he would never be rude enough to ignore anyone who messaged him.
‘If you’re really as submissive as you claim, I’d be very interested in meeting you,’ came the next response.
Again, Tommy rolled his eyes at the fake profile picture. However, given that in five minutes time he would be deleting the app for good anyway, why not just click on the profile and take a look?
What Tommy saw next altered his perspective entirely. He didn’t care if the profile picture was a fake; a guy who could write like that, so erotically, about his desires to dominate, could look however they wanted to in real life. Tommy needed to meet them.
What followed over the next couple of hours was a kinky exchange where Tommy literally poured his heart and soul out to the mystery man on the other end. No one had ever shown such an interest in his kinks, nor drawn them out of him with such precision. So, when the offer of a meet at the coffee house in town came up, he didn’t think twice.
Sitting with his back to the door, Tommy waited patiently, but with a realistic mindset that a guy with a fake profile picture was unlikely to ever actually show up. Then, suddenly, he felt a large, warm hand land on his shoulder and a deep, masculine voice rumble into his ear. “Tommy?”
Tommy didn’t turn his head. He wanted to preserve that catfished image of the man he had been messaging for just a few moments longer. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw that very same man appear in the flesh. Tall, strapping, muscular and handsome; it was as if a beautiful, mid-twenties Greek god had just arrived in his hometown; from out of absolutely nowhere.
“I’m Hunter,” the guy smiled, reaching out his large hand to shake.
Tommy couldn’t help admitting to the fact that he hadn’t believed Hunter’s profile pictures to be real, and Hunter nodded, saying that he had been told the same thing many times. He seemed pleased by Tommy’s appearance too, stroking his knee gently under the table as they settled into their first real conversation.
A few moments later, Hunter was up and ordering coffees for them both. Tommy turned to catch the guy from behind as he stood at the counter: so tall, with such perfect glutes and that broad back adorned with muscular shoulders. Was this really Tommy’s lunchtime date?
Hunter soon returned carrying a tray with coffees and, surprisingly, a large slice of triple chocolate cake, which he placed in front of Tommy.
Politely, Tommy thanked him for it, even though he had not asked for something to eat and actually felt a little awkward picking at it when Hunter did not have anything himself.
“I wanted to discuss our sexual interests,” Hunter stated next, steering the conversation when Tommy seemed to be taking it down a more mundane path. “The domination and submission.”
Tommy felt his cheeks getting hot. There were another two couples close by; probably within earshot. But Hunter didn’t seem to care in the slightest.
“What do you want to know?” Tommy replied excitedly.
“Actually, I think it's time that you listened to me instead,” Hunter replied sternly, putting Tommy in his place perfectly. “It’s lucky that I saw your profile as I don’t use that app much for meeting guys.”
“Where do you usually meet guys?” Tommy asked, sensing that Hunter had paused for him to ask just such a question.
“A few places,” Hunter shrugged, flicking through his cell phone. “These are some of my previous subs,” he offered, holding up his phone and swiping through pictures of himself next to other guys in various forms of submission to him: on their knees, bound and gagged, you name it. “Do you notice anything in particular about the guys I sleep with?” Hunter asked next. His tone was serious and it was obvious that he wanted Tommy to respond in much the same way.
The answer came to Tommy immediately, but he squirmed as he tried to think of a way to reply to Hunter, without seeming rude. “Well, you’re so…” he mumbled, gesturing towards Hunter’s powerful body and chest. “And yet, these guys here… there’re a bit…”
“They’re fatties,” Hunter stated for him; obviously not one to dress his language up. “I need you to just come out with it in the future when I ask you questions,” he stated frankly. “That’s the way I work. No bullshit.”
Tommy nodded, feeling turned on by how direct Hunter could be. Having discussed in such detail what his dream dominant would be, it was almost as if Hunter was slotting perfectly into place.
“Why fatties?” Tommy asked, hoping that mirroring Hunter’s language would please him.
“Because fatties turn me on,” Hunter replied plainly. “I work hard to build my body up. So when I fuck a sub, I need him to be soft and doughy for me.” He reached over to the plate of half eaten cake in front of Tommy and gave it a gentle nudge.
Tommy’s eyes bulged. Hunter wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t like to bullshit. His meaning couldn’t have been clearer. “So, you bought me the cake because…” he mumbled. He considered leaving it there and posing it as a question to Hunter, but he got the sense that the dominant hunk in front of him wanted him to just say what he believed to be true. “You bought me the cake to… soften me up.”
Hunter smiled for the first time in a few minutes and he leaned in, putting his giant hand back on Tommy’s knee. “That’s right,” he nodded, seeming to be genuinely delighted that Tommy had been frank with him. “Submission for me, is more than just slipping on a pair of handcuffs during sex. Submission is a lifestyle. It should be your entire body. You should wear it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”
Feeling his heart beating faster and his palms sweating simply from hearing Hunter’s deep voice speaking at such a volume about things, without a care in the world, Tommy nodded. “I agree,” he answered. “Submission should be a lifestyle.”
“I’m glad you said that,” Hunter nodded again, his eyes now fixed on the still half eaten cake.
“Oh,” Tommy shook himself, picking up his fork again and popping the next bit of cake into his mouth. Instinctively, he apologised and Hunter did not correct him for it.
“I’m not going to lie,” Hunter stated, nodding subtly with approval. “I think this could work between us.”
“You do?” Tommy shot back with so much delight that he immediately wanted to punch himself in the face for it. “That’s cool,” he nodded, trying to seem more relaxed.
“We’ll meet at my place next time,” Hunter told him, draining his coffee as if this interview was already over. “I’ll message you on the app.”
“Okay,” Tommy replied, surprised by how fast the date was over with.
Hunter leaned in. “And make sure you finish that cake,” he whispered into his ear. “Every last crumb.”
Having Hunter so close sent exciting electrical pulses through Tommy’s brain: the smell of his delicious aftershave, those perfect lips so near to his face. “I will,” he replied sincerely, turning to look Hunter in the face in the hope that they may end with a kiss.
Hunter held Tommy’s gaze, studying him. But Tommy knew better than to be the one to initiate a kiss. “I know you will,” the hunk replied after a few seconds. “You’ll be a good boy,” he chuckled, then turned and walked away without a second glance.
Tommy raced home feeling more elated after a date than ever before. Finally, he had found someone who seemed to relate to him on a level that no one had before. And, unbelievably, the guy was hotter than anyone else he had ever dared to dream of.
Of course, there was the one part of the date that he was less sure about. He hadn’t come across someone so into domination that they had insisted their date consume cake for them. But just because it was a little different, didn’t mean that he had to view it negatively. After all, he’d got quite a kick out of complying, hadn’t he?
“Come on in,” smiled Hunter a few days later, opening the door to his apartment.
Just as he had stated in his messages, Hunter had not long got in from the gym and still looked a little sweaty, dressed in tight, and particularly short, shorts, together with a well-fitted compression top that showed off every detail of his exquisite body. He was even taller than Tommy realised, making him feel so insignificant standing next to him. He tried not to faint, right there on the spot.
“Rule number one,” Hunter began. “When you come here, you take your clothes off as soon as you get inside.”
Tommy stared up at Hunter, wondering if he was serious. But as the pause continued, Tommy realised that Hunter was waiting for him to comply. He fumbled for a second, then began unbuttoning his shirt, feeling more than a little embarrassed to be doing this straight away. He’d taken so long to pick out his outfit for their second date. What a waste of time that was!
“Come on, quickly!” Hunter prodded him impatiently.
Tommy kicked off his shoes, removing his pants and underwear in one go, knowing that his dick was going to be pathetically hard already. He stood there after awkwardly removing his socks, not knowing whether to cover his hardness, or act like this was normal.
Hunter nodded with approval. He reached down into the pile of discarded clothes and pulled out Tommy’s underwear, holding them up as if for inspection, and gripping the small waist between his fingers. “Cute,” he chuckled to himself, seeming to find them highly amusing.
But Hunter did not throw them back onto the floor. He carried them as he turned into the apartment, clearly expecting the naked Tommy to do the same.
Following the jock inside and admiring those fine, muscular glutes just ahead of him, Tommy had never felt so turned on in his life. It had been immediate, from the moment he stepped inside. He felt, at that moment, that he would have eaten an entire mountain of chocolate cake if Hunter had told him to.
Hunter led him to the kitchen area, where Tommy was surprised to see that the big man was busy preparing a meal for them both, despite not having even showered yet. A good meal was clearly more important to him.
“Smells delicious,” Tommy chirped politely, still unsure whether to cover his boner with his hand as he trotted in.
Hunter raised his eyebrows in recognition of his comment, but did not reply. Instead, he pulled out a chair at his table and pointed for Tommy to sit whilst he went back to stirring and serving it out.
There was something so sexy about a man in the kitchen. There were so many things on the go and yet Hunter did not seem in the least bit flustered. Everything was under complete control. But as Tommy watched, he noticed that it was all being served onto separate, single plates; not distributed between the two of them as he had expected.
At last, Hunter pulled out a chair and positioned it directly in front of Tommy. Then he sat, spreading his strong legs and looking at his guest seriously. “I enjoyed our date, Tommy. I really did. I think you’re a nice guy and I believe that you would make a great sub for me.”
Tommy smiled back, pleased; feeling the need to tuck his hardness between his thighs whilst Hunter was being so friendly.
“But if I’m going to spend some real time with you, I need to know what you can do. I also need you to see the type of man I really am. You may not like any of what I have planned tonight. You may want to leave. And that’s fine. But at least we'll both know where we stand, and neither of us will get our hopes up, thinking that this is more than what it is.”
Tommy looked from the gorgeous man to the piles of steaming food still on the counter. He knew that Hunter would want him to think for himself and be direct. “You want me to eat this for you, don’t you?” he asked, realising that the chocolate cake slice of their first date had just been the start of whatever kinky play Hunter was into.
Hunter simply nodded. “I want to see how far you’re willing to go for me.”
The stud sat back, lifted his arms and removed the tight compression shirt he was wearing, revealing his remarkable torso to Tommy for the first time.
Chuckling slightly at the obviously smitten expression on Tommy’s face, the large guy leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. “Are you ready to do this for me?” he whispered into his guest’s ear, before picking Tommy’s small hands up and placing them on his strapping chest.
The hot, sweet breath on Tommy’s neck, combined with the musky scent of the jock’s body, so firm and strong, made him want to climax there and then. “Yes,” he replied obediently.
Hunter sat back again with a smirk, making Tommy’s hands fall back down. He knew exactly the effect he was having upon the boy. He reached down to the guy’s stomach and, with the back of one finger, he stroked across the light six pack that showed there. “Goodbye, little buddy,” he teased wickedly. Then he stood up, seeming to loom larger than ever without his shirt on, and brought the plates and bowls to the table.
Armed with only a fork and a spoon, Tommy was expected to feast on all of it.
Luck was on Tommy’s side; he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime. Plus, Hunter was watching him, rubbing his back sweetly and advising him on what to eat next; taking him back and forth from one dish to another. But something seemed to happen about thirty minutes in. Hunter changed slightly. He’d had a laid back attitude the entire time that Tommy had been there, as if he wouldn’t have been bothered if Tommy cancelled the date and took himself home instead. Maybe he was used to that. But now he was actively supporting; up and about, fetching the furthest plates so that Tommy did not need to reach. The man’s breathing had altered as well, with deeper, more rapid intakes of breath as he watched Tommy eat. Then, with a small glance down, Tommy saw that the thickest hardness had swollen down one side of Hunter’s gym shorts. How incredible! Had Tommy really excited the dominant man that much?
“You’re doing well,” Hunter praised him; his voice deeper and more gravely than Tommy had heard it before. “I’m impressed.”
Tommy’s stretched out stomach began to really hurt about forty minutes in, yet he continued to push himself as far as he could. Some plates were clean now, which Hunter got up and replaced with some dessert items. Tommy had always enjoyed switching back and forth between sweet and savory items, so the additions to the table were more of a help than a hindrance.
Eventually, the time came when Tommy knew he would have to stop. His pace had slowed and he started selecting those easier, lighter items to make the remaining plates look at least a little emptier. “That’s it. I’m done!” he whimpered, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his painfully distended stomach.
Despite expecting cries or protests from Hunter ordering him to finish the pathically small amount of pasta he had left, or gulp down the last few melting scoops of ice cream, Hunter simply sat there, surveying the destruction on the table. “Where did you learn to eat like that?” he asked, seemingly flabbergasted.
Tommy quietly dredged up a burp to relieve some of the pressure and shook his head. “Don’t know,” he shrugged. “I’ve always had a pretty good appetite.”
Hunter still seemed unable to comprehend what he had witnessed. “I’ve seen some seriously fucking fat boys eat less than half of what you just put away.”
Tommy burped again and found some pleasant relief; more than he was expecting. He knew how expensive the ice cream that Hunter had served him was, and decided to finish it off after all, not wanting to see it go to waste. He could see Hunter staring at him in amazement. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I’ve always had a very fast metabolism.”
“I can soon destroy that,” Hunter growled, giving away just how horny he was. “Natural greed like this… It's incredible. And very rare!”
“Thanks,” Tommy smiled,unsure what else to say.
“Why don’t you stay here tonight?” Hunter asked next, wrapping a big arm over Tommy’s shoulders, like a snake about to suffocate its prey. “I know you don’t have work in the morning. I can make you breakfast.”
A mixture of relief and arousal swept over Tommy. He’d made such an effort to eat, he’d all but forgotten the fact that he’d need to catch the bus home later.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” Hunter teased, as if Tommy needed persuading. He reached for a tiny bottle of lubricant in his shorts and tipped a small amount of it onto his fingertips, before gently massaging the head of Tommy’s hardness.
Tommy gasped and grabbed for the sides of his seat, as if the floor was about to cave in. Hunter was so good at this. All that eating made the oxygen catch in his chest and it took him a few seconds to get his breathing into a rhythmn as Hunter took the reins of pleasuring him. He nodded his head, not wanting to use his voice in that moment for fear of how pathetically weak and needy it might sound.
“Come on Greedy Boy,” Hunter teased him. “Let’s go take a shower together…”
“I can’t come next weekend,” Tommy grinned, addressing his coworkers six weeks later. “I’m away with my boyfriend.”
As predicted, the whistles of delight sounded in the air as they all made a fuss at the news that their colleague was dating at last. Tommy wasted no time in sharing a picture of the two of them together, sitting in his parents’ lounge.
“He’s hot!” blasted one of them straight away.
“He looks like he should be on a catwalk!” squeaked another.
Tommy smirked to himself. He loved the reactions he got to pictures of Hunter. Sure, people might have thought he was punching quite significantly above his weight, but he was still the one who got to be fucked by such a hunk, and not them. However, behind that handsome smile and perfect ‘boy next door’ act Hunter laid on astonishingly thick for all of Tommy’s family and friends, lay the kinkiest, most dominant lover he could have ever wished for. The things they got upto in the bedroom satisfied him completely. After years of dating boring guys, Hunter seemed to swoop in and make Tommy fall hopelessly in love with him in only a matter of days. Tommy was utterly devoted to him. And the best part was, Hunter knew it.
“You haven’t really told me much about these friends of yours we’re going to meet this weekend,” Tommy pondered, sitting in the passenger seat and noting how far out into the country they had gone on his online map.
“Well, why bother? You got along with all my other friends,” Hunter chuckled, obviously keeping something from Tommy about this trip.
Tommy sighed. “Yeah, but they were all co-workers and old school buddies. They don’t know… all the sides of your personality,” he replied diplomatically.
“Well, let’s just say, this weekend will be good for us,” Hunter smiled, leaning back and driving smoothly. “These guys are sexy as fuck, and we all like to play together. I’ve been excited to show you off to them since we first started going out. ”
“Show me off?” Tommy asked. “How so?”
“Just you wait and see,” Hunter laughed, adjusting the developing boner he was getting in his crotch. Something about this was exciting him very much. Then he reached his hand across to stroke Tommy’s thigh and brushed off some of the many wrappers from the drive-thru they had stopped at a good few miles back.
The location, when they finally arrived about two hours later, was nothing short of breathtaking. The house was set in the most charming of spots, overlooking the hills; with eight bedrooms, a pool, and the largest hot tub Tommy had ever seen. They entered, Hunter leading the way, only to see several shirtless men all standing around in the kitchen. They cheered when they saw Hunter and came over to greet him with a hug.
Tommy stood back awkwardly. He’d been so stupid in how he had imagined these men in his head. They were not at all as he had envisioned them; all of them round bellied and at varying levels of obesity; not the types of guys that someone in Hunter’s extreme, peak physical condition would have been expected to associate with. But, then again, Hunter had always said that he preferred fat guys.
“And this is my new boyfriend, Tommy,” Hunter finally stated, pulling Tommy forward to greet them all.
There was a look of surprise on all the guys’ faces. One of them furrowed their eyebrows, as if about to ask whether Hunter was being serious. Then, the first one stepped forward and shook his hand warmly; followed by the rest of them, one by one.
“That was a little weird,” Tommy whispered as the pair of them went up to the bedroom that had been assigned to them: thre master suite no less. “Did they not know that you’re dating?”
“No, they knew,” Hunter smirked, undressing himself and slipping on his tiny swim shorts to head out to the pool. “I date fat guys, remember. I’ve fucked and dominated every one of them in my time,” he continued, checking his perfect hair in the mirror. “So when I told them I was dating the fucking greediest, sexiest guy I’d ever met, they’d probably assumed you were a lot larger.”
“Wait. So do they know that you…” Tommy asked.
“These guys know everything. That’s why I was so excited for this weekend. We can just relax and be ourselves, without having to worry. I can cook mountains of food for you, just like normal, then bring you up here, tie you up and fuck you all night long,” he grinned, striding over to Tommy and kissing him. “Now, get changed,” he ordered, throwing some swim shorts at him.
“Looking good!” growled one of the men as Hunter led the way down the stairs. “I’ve never seen you looking so chiselled.”
Hunter stood and soaked in all of their comments, comically flexing and posing for them all. Then he smirked and tapped one of the guys on his gut. “I could say the same to you, buddy,” he nodded. “This overhang has really gotten a lot bigger since the last time I saw you.”
Tommy inhaled slightly with shock at Hunter’s rudeness. He looked for signs of offense, until he saw that the man instead looked mightily pleased with himself. ���Paul has been feeding me a big tub of ice cream before bed every night,” he pointed over at another large bellied guy in the corner, who was obviously his partner.
“Well, it’s really working,” Hunter smiled at him, giving him a deep, horny kiss. “I’m doing the same with this little guy,” he continued, pulling Tommy closer to him. “He was still living with his parents when I met him, but I’ve got him with me most of the time these days. That’s making things easier. Ice cream before bed is one of the things I started him on straight away,” he stated proudly.
The eyes of the men studied Tommy’s body in his swim shorts.
“I’m having to break down his incredibly fast metabolism. It’s not ideal. But if I turn him around, you can see,” Hunter explained, spinning a light and clueless Tommy around and bending him down so that his small butt faced the men instead. “There’s a little more softness forming around his lower back and…” he continued, dropping Tommy’s swim shorts slightly so that his butt cheeks showed, “...his glutes and thighs are filling up a lot more than when I first met him.”
Hunter tapped Tommy’s butt, creating a short ripple.
“Do you see it?” he asked them all.
With his head down, facing away from them, Tommy didn’t know if the guys had nodded in agreement.
“Do you think he’s going to be quite bottom heavy then?” another of the men asked, clearly feeling that Tommy’s butt was wothy of discussion.
“Possibly,” Hunter agreed. “It’s a bit too early to tell. There aren’t many fatties in his family for me to get a good idea of how he might develop. That was one of the first things I checked. But he’s quit the gym to spend more time with me, so that should speed things up a little.”
Tommy felt his swim shorts getting pulled back up and a sweet kiss being placed on his forehead by his boyfriend. Then he was spun back to face the others, just as they all started chuckling with amusement to themselves, noticing the hardness that had developed in Tommy’s crotch during their conversation about him.
Hunter soon noticed as well and joined in the laughing, patting Tommy on his butt proudly. “He’s a kinky little fucker too!” he smirked, repositioning himself behind Tommy, rolling his big strong arms around the smaller guy’s shoulders and gently rubbing his crotch into his lover’s rear.
“I take it he’s a sub?” Paul asked from the corner.
“Of course,” Hunter shot back, gently nibbling Tommy’s ear. “One of the most obedient I’ve ever had,” he whispered. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you Tommy?” he teased, reaching one arm down to stroke the hardness in Tommy’s shorts, even with all the other guys there.
Tommy’s head flopped back against Hunter’s shoulder. In this situation, he felt so crazily out of control, yet it was arousing him in ways he could not explain.
“Anyway, come on, Piggy,” Hunter finally ordered, pulling his large hand out from Tommy’s crotch. “Let’s go try out the pool.” He tapped his lover on his butt, admiring the slight flutter that spread into the guy’s thighs. “But remember, not too much exercise for you. I don’t want you to spoil all the fast food calories I bought you earlier.”
Dinner was served a couple of hours later: a vast spread of multiple dishes, prepared by the varying couples in attendance. They sat in the shade, all of them in their swim shorts, and some of the men spilling out of the tight patio chairs that the rental property had for its guests.
“You finished already, Danny?” Hunter asked the significantly overweight man across the table. “Tommy will be nowhere near finished. He’s got at least another twenty minutes in him,” he boasted.
“It is extraordinary,” one of the others nodded in agreement, seeing how easily Tommy was packing it all in. “Is this how he usually is?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Hunter nodded, reaching over and spooning on another large serving of cheesy pasta, as if he was psychically linked to his boyfriend and knew exactly what he wanted. “He can go like this for every meal: breakfast, lunch, dinner… He’s also a great little snacker as well. I need to eat frequently throughout the day to keep this physique up,” he explained, tensing his large biceps. “So it’s easy to get this one eating with me, and it still never spoils his appetite when dinner time rolls around.”
“How are his family feeling about him dating a feeder?” Danny asked, eyes still on Tommy as he continued to consume.
“It’s still early days,” Hunter replied. “He’s not really started to fatten up properly yet and take shape. Plus, they absolutely love me. I have his mom eating out of the palm of my hand! I’m sure the idea that I’m fattening their son won’t cross their minds for some time yet.”
“What’s his recovery time like?” Danny’s slightly slimmer husband asked next.
“Pretty good,” Hunter nodded again. “After he’s done here, I’ll take him upstairs, jack him off and then let him sleep for a couple of hours. Then he’ll be back up and ready for something else before bed,” he laughed, rubbing his boy’s back sweetly.
Tommy listened to it all as he continued to eat. Below the table, his hardness was weeping into his swim trunks. It wasn’t at all how he anticipated the life of a submissive, but it was still absolutely perfect, hearing Hunter boast about his control over him to all his friends.
“Are you struggling there, Fat Boy?” Hunter grinned as he watched the enormous Jack trying to repack his suitcase in the middle of the lounge that Sunday.
Tommy could tell that Jack was Hunter’s favourite of all the fat guys; most likely because was the softest of them all; partly due to his shorter height, making him rounder and more spherical than the others. Tommy had been with his boyfriend long enough to know when Hunter was getting horny and he sensed the spark of arousal within him each time Jack waddled on by, dressed only in his swim trunks all weekend.
Jack wiped his brow and nodded. “I’m not as sprightly as I used to be.”
Hunter chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Harry has done an awesome job on you. All that fresh fat in that big gut…” He growled in approval, admiring it all. His hardness was getting too much for him and he pulled Tommy gently down into his crotch to pleasure him whilst they spoke.
“I think you’ve got a good one there too,” Jack nodded over at Tommy, sucking away, as ordered.
Hunter sighed with pride and slapped Tommy on his butt, as he crouched across the sofa. “He will be. He just needs time to get into my ways.”
“He looks pretty obedient to me,” Jack chuckled.
“Oh, definitely! Like I said, he’s one of the best subs I’ve ever had. Decent blow job skills too,” he sighed, really starting to feel Tommy’s work now. “I just need to take down this metabolism of his.” He gazed down at the back of Tommy’s head bobbing up and down in his crotch. “I need every part of him to submit to me.”
Jack nodded knowingly, trotting over and rubbing Tommy’s butt as well. “Don’t worry, Hunter. I know you. You’ll have him under control very soon now...”
Over the next few weeks, Tommy felt a creeping tightness in his workpants. He stared in the mirror, hardly believing that the swollen glutes and thicker thighs were actually his. In his constantly bloated state, he hadn’t noticed the disappearance of his light six pack, as a thickening layer of fat began to spread itself around his waist. In fact, it was only as he jumped down from his office chair after finding something on the top shelf of a cupboard, that he noticed the first flutter of that fat, especially in his chest. But after that day, everything seemed to spiral.
“Hunter, I need you to come to my work,” Tommy whispered down the phone.
“Why?” Hunter asked, clearly in the middle of a training session with one of his clients at his gym.
“I bent down to pick up my pen and…”
“You ripped your pants,” Hunter finished for him. “About time. Did anyone see?”
“No,” Tommy replied with relief.
“That’s a shame,” Hunter sighed in disappointment. “And now you want me to drop everything and head over to deliver some larger pants for you?”
“Yes, please!” Tommy begged, knowing that his dominant boyfriend might actually get quite a kick out of leaving him in his ripped pants all day long.
A long, excruciating two hours later, Hunter arrived at the office. Many of the female employees rushed from their desks to greet him, and Hunter flirted sweetly with them, knowing exactly what sort of effect he had on them. It was strangely arousing to see him in action, pretending to take an interest in Melissa’s honeymoon or Fran’s new grandchildren; this charming character that he portrayed with ease.
“Well, I must go, ladies,” he smiled, walking towards Tommy’s office as some of them continued to bleat on. He closed the door behind him and comically put his body against it as if to stop anyone following him in. Then he locked it, just in case. “How do you put up with such boring people?” he sighed, looking straight at Tommy.
“They absolutely adore you,” Tommy reminded him.
“I know. But they’re still fucking boring,” Hunter smirked, checking the blinds were closed properly before striding over to his chubby lover who rose from his chair to greet him with an embrace.
Immediately, Hunter seized the opportunity in those moments of weakness; his strong hands sliding down to the tear in Tommy’s pants, mercilessly ripping them open further.
Tommy’s hands slipped back surveying the damage. Now, even his underwear had been compromised as he felt cool air against his increasingly fleshy glutes. “Please tell me you brought my new pants,” he blasted in panic.
“I did,” Hunter nodded, rifling through his backpack and showing them briefly. “But it’s going to cost you,” he sniggered, now pulling out his hardness from his shorts and nodding for Tommy to lie himself on the table.
“But I’m in work!” Tommy shot back.
“All the more reason for you to stop complaining and get a move on then,” the man laughed back, stroking his thick hardness to warm it up for Tommy’s softening butt.
Tommy lay himself down, realising that one of his most kinky work fantasies was about to come true, despite feeling no less worried that there would be a knock on his door at any moment. He spread his legs, making the tear even more pronounced, then heard the thud of a supermarket cheesecake being dropped by his head and then slid underneath his nose: Hunter’s latest fascination, watching him gorge on something extremely fattening whilst fucking him.
Both of them set to work, Hunter pounding him so forcefully that the cheesecake smeared itself over Tommy’s nose and under his chin as he tried to eat it at the same time. It was clear that he needed to eat fast, save getting it on his white shirt and ending up in exactly the same sartorial predicament again. His tongue came into play, scooping it all up and then pushing whatever didn’t need chewing straight down. Hunter didn’t take long to finish, but the sweat on his brow gave away just how much he had really gone for it. He threw Tommy a pack of cleaning wipes for his face and unfolded the new pants, presenting them like a prize to his lover.
A minute later, Hunter insisted on being walked out of the office; both of them stopped on the way multiple times.
“Yes, we’d love to come over for dinner sometime, Christine,” Hunter smiled politely, both he and Tommy knowing full well that it would never happen. Hunter wouldn’t waste his free time socialising with any of these people, unless there was something in it for him.
“Whart a nice boy he is!” Christine marvelled, standing at the main entrance of the office block, watching Hunter drive off. “So polite and gentle!”
Swishing his tongue around his mouth and still tasting nothing but cheesecake, Tommy nodded in agreement. “He’s the best.”
It felt very festive, turning up at the picturesque rental cottage covered in snow. Unlike last time, Tommy knew exactly what he would be walking into as Hunter’s friends arranged their next meet up. Being from up north, renting these houses was the best way for them to meet up with Hunter, who they all found just as fascinating and intoxicating as Tommy did.
“Someone has been eating well!” the men chuckled, seeing Tommy for the first time in almost six months.
Tommy nodded, taking his big jacket off. In the last couple of months, his cheeks had blown up in a way that was not too dissimilar to a hamster stuffing itself with seeds. Fat had spread under his chin and into his neck, always visible now that Hunter insisted that he stayed clean shaven. Hunter kissed him proudly, always delighted whenever anyone mentioned his boyfriend’s gains.
“I’m guessing you defeated that fast metabolism of his?” Danny laughed, seeing more and more of Tommy’s shape as he removed the layers of winter clothing.
“Did you ever doubt me?” Hunter smirked back, grabbing both of their bags to take them upstairs; never wanting Tommy to burn any calories unnecessarily.
“What do you weigh now?” Paul jumped in after Tommy and Hunter came back downstairs after settling into their room.
Tommy looked to Hunter, knowing that he would want to be the one to tell them all.
“We’re up 70lbs since you last saw him,” Hunter beamed, draping his big arm over Tommy’s shoulders. “I bet you can hardly recognise him with these chubby cheeks, huh boys?”
“I suppose the sweatpants come in handy these days?” Eddie asked, nodding at Tommy’s casual attire as he stood beside his muscular boyfriend.
“Um, I guess so,” Hunter pondered. “To be honest, I don’t let him wear clothes when he’s at home. Do I?” he asked Tommy in an attempt to include him, even a little, in this discussion about him.
Tommy shook his head.
“As you can probably see, his tits are starting to come in real nicely,” Hunter continued, lifting Tommy’s shirt for the boys to see. “Lovehandles are fully in shape now, and the back fat,” he rambled on, spinning Tommy around for their viewing pleasure. “I’ve had to rescue him twice in work now after he’s split his pants,” he laughed, rolling the sweatpants down so that the guys could see the transformation that had taken place in Tommy’s glutes. “And, best of all…” he went on, rapidly spinning Tommy like a ragdoll again to face them once more, “Check this out…”
The boys marvelled in unison as Hunter grabbed a thick wedge of fat that had amassed at the top of Tommy’s groin.
“It’s hard to believe how much fat there is here, considering he’s only 220lbs at the moment,” Hunter grinned. “It’s incredible!”
“Well, we can help add to that this weekend,” Danny smiled. “It’s your first holiday season as a fatty,” he nodded at Tommy. “That’s got to be quite exciting?”
“It’s also our first one together,” Tommy replied, falling back into Hunter’s large chest.
“What are you guys doing for the big day?” Eddie asked next.
“Well, we told Tommy’s parents that we were going to my family. And then we said the exact opposite to my parents. So, basically…” Hunter smirked, pulling his lover into a cute sideways cuddle, “...this little piggy is going to be spending the day sitting on my cock whilst I feed him absolutely everything I’ve been preparing for him for the last month.”
The guys all looked at each other, clearly astounded and secretly aroused by the idea.
“Have you had much backlash from Tommy’s family now he’s getting so overweight?” Danny questioned them later, sitting at the table, waiting for Tommy to finish his meal.
“Not so much,” Hunter replied. “Now his face has started to balloon, people are certainly a lot more aware of it. But his parents aren’t as switched on as mine. My dad pulled me to the side a couple of weeks ago and told me to start going easy on Tommy.” He straightened up, about to do an impression of his father and put on a dull, stuck-up voice. “Your mother and I know exactly what you’re doing,” he began at a fast pace, poking his finger out like a school teacher. “You’ve always been forceful about getting your own way; always the bully we used to get complaints about when you were in high school. But Tommy is a nice boy; the nicest you’ve ever brought home, and you’ve got to start getting your kicks some other way. One that doesn’t involve him getting so out of shape!”
The men all laughed in unison.
“I just tell them I’m going to set up a diet plan for Tommy in the New Year,” he chuckled; setting the rest of them off.
“Well, I can imagine exactly what sort of ‘diet plan’ you’ll have for him,” Danny smirked, knowing his friend all too well.
Hunter nodded and laughed along with them. “Yeah, this fat boy is so fucking screwed!”
Their conversation rolled on. All the while, Tommy continued to eat.
“Good boy!” Hunter sang moments later as Tommy finally put his knife and fork down; his plate cleared. “Was that tasty? That lamb dish is one of Eddie’s most fattening recipes. I should know. I taught him how to make it.”
Tommy nodded his head; utterly stuffed.
“Do you want me to take you upstairs for your pleasure time?” he asked the blubbery boy. “It’s part of his routine,” he explained to the guys. “Or would you rather have it here, so that the other fat boys can see you?”
Tommy looked around at the faces staring at him. All of the men were shirtless and some of them, like him, had come to the table wearing nothing at all. His initial thought was to go back upstairs. However, that seemed like such an effort in his stuffed state. He looked over at a cosy chair by the fireplace and nodded; “Over there.”
Initially, the other kinky guys had pretended to busy themselves whilst Hunter took Tommy over to the chair and began to rub his hardness up and down. However, their curiosity and arousal was soon gettng the better of them, one-by-one, coming to sit on the other chairs or stand nearby watching Hunter controlling his sub.
“Are you a good piggy for me?” Hunter whispered into his ear, making Tommy moan and nod. “You’ve put on so much fat for me this year. Did you see how shocked the guys were earlier? They’re all looking at you now.”
Tommy opened his eyes and looked around. What would he have said a year ago, had he imagined a scenario that was anything like this?
A curious and horny Eddie licked his thumb and began rubbing it over Tommy’s pointed nipple.
Hunter looked across with approval. “Piggy loves that now his tits have come in. He can’t get over how sensitive they are.
Danny licked his thumb and began playing with the other nipple, before Paul came along and grabbed a wedge of Tommy’s stomach fat, as if hardly believing how quickly it had developed.
“You see, you’re the star of the show, Piggy!” Hunter whispered into his lover’s ear.
Tommy’s breathing became a lot heavier as he felt his climax building.
“It’s alright, Piggy,” Hunter continued. “Don’t hold back. You can show them what I taught you to do when you climax.”
Tommy looked into Hunter’s eyes. Was it really okay to let himself go like this? But the orgasm was coming so fast and the urge to do it was becoming too much for him to resist. He gasped, letting go of his inhibition, then snorted, loud and clear, just like a pig, mimicking the tones that Hunter had taught him exactly. Jets flowed across the coffee table in the middle of the room and Tommy shut his eyes, calm at last..
As the New Year came and went, Tommy realised that his weight had spiked at an alarmingly fast rate over the holidays. Hunter had declared, looking at the vast new size of Tommy’s glutes, that it had been the best gift he had ever received. The gains did eventually slow down, but never stagnated. And so, by their first anniversary of getting together, Tommy stood next to his gorgeous boyfriend with over one hundred and ten pounds of added fat on him.
Hunter was more pleased with his own body than ever before as well. He’d spent the last few months bulking his shoulders and glutes, so that even he was outgrowing his clothes. Seeing Tommy swell so fast had given him the motivation he needed to make a real push with his weight training, and he spent much of that summer without a shirt on, both inside and outside of the apartment. He’d inherited a decent amount of money from a great uncle he had never even met, spending most of it on a new convertible and a designer watch that helped to inflate his ego even further. Their kitchen had been the epicentre of it all, with Hunter cooking himself up vast amounts of high protein meals, whilst simultaneously pouring in the butter, oils and grease into everything he made for Tommy.
Hunter’s bulking had also created the perfect excuse for Tommy’s ever swelling stomach. Hunter made no secret of how much he had to consume in order to keep up the strapping muscle on his body. “Most evenings, I’m cooking up food and portioning it out for myself for the next day,” he explained to Tommy’s aunt during their next visit. “But I think the smell of it makes Tommy hungry, and when I go to bed, I hear him rummaging around in the kitchen for hours.”
“Oh, Tommy!” his aunt tutted with disappointment. “No wonder you’ve gained so much weight then. You need to exercise some self control.”
Hunter nodded in agreement, rubbing Tommy’s back supportively; as if this was all one great big intervention, aimed at helping him. The lies just rolled off the hunk’s tongue with such ease and he’d soon be laughing in the car at how easily they all swallowed them. “Come on, Fatty,” he whispered whilst still smiling and waving at Tommy’s extended family as they reversed off the driveway. “Look at their faces,” he laughed. “They really think you’re going to turn things around this time.”
“My aunt spoke to me a minute ago, before we left,” Tommy explained from the passenger seat. “She told me that you’re the fitness expert and that I just need to do whatever you say.”
Hunter laughed victoriously. “Good old Auntie Paula!” he roared, waving one final time to her in particular. “In that case, your fitness expert is taking you home to sit my dick while I feed you your disgustingly oversized dinner. I heard that chair squeaking when you sat on it earlier. Next time we go to see them, I’m going to make sure your fat ass destroys it!”
The summer was coming to an end, but not before the pair of them drove up in Hunter’s new car to yet another rental place for a weekend with the boys.
“I’ve got a surprise for everyone later,” Hunter joked, shirtless and with a strong arm draped over his flabby, newly 300lb boyfriend.”
“Another one?” the boys joked, having just spoken at length about their shock at seeing the swell of Tommy’s chest and underarm fat in particular.
Hunter kept them all waiting keenly. They ate their dinner, recharged and then settled down to some beers in the large lounge. “Want to see something super cute?” he finally asked them, grinning with excitement.
“Is this our surprise?” Jack immediately replied, ready to be entertained.
Hunter nodded. “Look at these!” he cooed, suddenly holding up a tiny pair of underwear he’d been hiding behind a cushion.
The boys laughed. “Awh!” they all sang back. In their world, no one wore underwear that small; even Hunter with his giant glutes and muscular thighs needed a large, or even an extra-large in many cases.
“These belonged to Tommy when he came over to my apartment for the first time,” Hunter laughed wickedly, spinning them around and holding them by the very ends of his fingertips as if to further emphasise how petite they were. “I’ve not even washed them since.”
At this, all the guys began laughing in much the same way. They passed them around, each of them marvelling at their tiny size.
“Your butt used to be so small!” Paul bellowed, draping the underwear over his large gut to show how minute they were in comparison.
Tommy stared at them, suddenly remembering how Hunter had walked off with his underwear on that first date at their now shared apartment. His perspective really had been skewed, hardly believing now that he ever wore clothes that small.
“That was only seventeen months ago, boys!” Hunter shouted, raising his arms up in the air for the admiration he was owed. “That’s how it’s done, my friends! That’s how a real feeder takes control and fattens his piggy!”
The boys all cheered in complete agreement. The transformation, the sheer speed of it all; it was breathtaking.
“He’d never get them on these days,” Eddie laughed. “Not with the amount of fat he carries on his thighs, and that huge butt of his.”
Hunter pretended to ponder the idea; theatrically raising his thumb to his chin and rubbing. “Hmm, do you really think so?” he asked, barely holding back his laughter. “I think we may need to test that hypothesis, don’t you, boys?” he called out, rousing the crowd of fat men into a chorus of cheers.
Within seconds, Hunter had stood up and moved clear so that the other men could move in and do his bidding. Tommy was being lifed and forced out of his current underwear, feeling delighted pats of approval from some of the guys as his big, fat, doughy glutes came on show. The coffee table had been removed from the room, the music turned way down, and he was pushed into the middle of a now cleared space, with all the large, occupied chairs and sofas imprisoning it.
Suddenly, the mood changed. Unlike the others, Hunter was standing, blocking the only path out of the room; his giant arms folded intimidatingly across his immensely powerful, shirtless chest; an inpenetrable wall; a ringleader, ready to entertain.
Even before he started, Tommy could hear little hoots of laughter all around him. He looked up at Hunter’s stern expression and his hardness throbbed uncontrollably.
“As you all remember,” Hunter began, “a short while ago, I started dating a very handsome, a very athletic, and in fact, a very pretty-looking guy…”
His tone was so playful and full of mockery; making the other guys laugh; every single one of them. Then he reached out and took the tiny underwear from the person who had them. Although only a few feet away from him, Tommy looked up at his lover as if the giant man was standing high upon a towering pedestal. The way those cold eyes stared down at him aroused him more than anything else.
“The pride and joy of his parents…” Hunter sang, holding Tommy’s old underwear for them all to see again, “...college graduate, all round nice guy. He told me that he wanted to meet me. Practically begged me!”
Again, the other guys all laughed at that. Tommy’s first foolish mistake.
“He told me that I was the sexiest guy he had ever seen in his life,” Hunter smirked, emphasising the language and slipping a finger up into the crotch of the old unerwear, showing where Tommy’s little erection would have once pushed against them. That got him one of the biggest laughs. “And he promised me one thing…” Hunter went on. “...That he would do absolutely anything that I wanted him to.”
The guys all turned from looking at Hunter, to gazing with awe at Tommy’s fattened body: the rolls and blubber, stretch marks and sag. His complete submission was right there, before their very eyes. Hunter’s will, made flesh.
“What you’re about to see, boys, is my now disgustingly gluttonous, obese boyfriend, trying to put on a pair of underwear that he last wore the second time he met me,” Hunter declared, throwing the tiny material down at Tommy’s feet, filling his large chest with air and folding those enormous arms once more.
Again, the fat men all laughed to themselves, some reaching in again to poke Tommy’s fleshy stomach, or tap his naked, under-exercised butt.
“Taking them off was one of his first acts of submission to me. And now,” Hunter continued, “this greedy, fat hog is about to try and put them back on for us.” He stared hard at Tommy, making him hornier still.
Tommy nodded slowly, hardly believing that this was all happening so fast. Two minutes ago, he had been snuggled into Hunter on the couch, oblivious that any of this was coming.
“Are you ready, boys?” Hunter roared at them all; rousing another cheer of excitement. He was made for this. Showmanship was in his blood. “Count the fat fucker into it for me…” he shouted at an alarming volume.
Tommy glanced at the ridiculously small underwear; his heart beating at quite the pace. He could feel the huge ring of fat under his chin as he looked down and tried to envision how best to do it.
“Three…two… ONE!” the boys all sang with the boisterous Hunter; lifting their bottles of beer up high; eyes wide and excited to see how this would all go down.
With a slight grunt from all that he had eaten earlier, Tommy bent down to pick up the underwear. There were cheers of amusement as his butt crack opened to those standing behind him. Then, turning the underwear in his hands, he lifted one leg to begin to put them on. He stumbled, feeling the fat in his butt and love handles quiver with the force he had to throw his foot down, just to keep his balance.
“Take your time, Piggy. Get it right,” Hunter reminded him in his stern tone. This show was important. These were his friends, and he had brought Tommy here to entertain them.
Tommy nodded. He started again, slipping one foot into the tiny hole and raised the material to his ankles. Now came the trickier part. He grunted, raising his other leg and miraculously slipped that inside as well. The big moment had arrived.
Grabbing onto the tiny waistband, Tommy sucked in his stomach and heaved them up. They began soaring up his legs and then slowed dramatically. just above his knees. They were so narrow, he felt like he needed to spread his legs more to get them up; but there was no room. He pulled at them again, hearing howls of laughter all around him. The effort was almost unbelievable, and yet the underwear raised barely more than a couple of inches. Never mind his giant butt, it was his blubbery thighs that were the problem.
On he struggled, feeling the waistband at last touching the lower part of his doughy rear. He lifted the front part easier, just managing to squish a little of his excited erection inside and then he looked up at Hunter. Had he done enough?
Hunter simply raised an eyebrow and smirked, the guys’ laughter suddenly becoming too infectious for even him to ignore. His smile spread and he laughed too, throwing his arms out and then pumping his muscular chest. Some of the men reached their congratulatory hands out to the feeder for him to shake as he walked around the space where Tommy stood. His victory lap.
“Thank you. You’re right,” he replied to their comments. “Twenty five years old, and look at it now!”
Finally, he came to stand in front of Tommy again, suddenly becoming falsely affectionate and stroking his submissive’s large, chubby cheek. “I’m so glad I met you,” he told Tommy, speaking as much to the other men who were listening in.
“I’m glad I met you too,” Tommy replied, full of love and arousal for his dominant lover.
The men all laughed at Tommy’s words and Hunter looked around at them with devilment dancing in his eyes. His perfect white teeth glistened as the widest smile grew on his face. He knew exactly what they were all thinking. Obesity was beginning to take a vice-like grip on Tommy’s body, and yet the twenty-five year old was still hopelessly under the spell of his wicked boyfriend.
“Good. I’m very glad,” Hunter nodded, lovingly tucking Tommy’s overgrown, sweaty hair behind his ears. He could never resist stroking the extensive chin fat with the back of his finger at the same time; the broad, fat face, freshly shaven as Hunter always insisted upon. “You realise that you’re going to be fatter than everybody here soon, don’t you?” he continued, explaining it to the fat boy like it was an exciting adventure they were embarking upon.
Tommy nodded.
“And that’s okay is it, Piggy?” Hunter asked, playing up to the crowds.
“Yes,” Tommy nodded again. Compliance was so easy.; submission so arousing. And this situation he was in now, so exhilarating and undenyably thrilling. Everything he never knew he needed.
Delving further into the three hundred pound zone was every bit as strange and transformative as the guys had warned Tommy as he left that weekend. Everything jiggled. Everything made him sweat. He had to accept how severely overweight he was now. It was the first thing people noticed when they met him and it was the one factor that influenced how people treated him most. He noted their tones of disapproval and impatience; their blunt answers to his questions and their indignation whenever they saw the gorgeous Hunter kissing him. He stared at pictures of the two of them at his sister’s wedding: his large, bulbous, doughy belly spreading out of his jacket and barely contained within his enormous shirt. He looked at the beautiful Hunter standing behind him, grinning proudly; no one there realising that he was laughing at them all, showing off what he had done to one of their own.
“I think it’s time you considered a new job. One where you can work from home,” Hunter declared, getting up after having fucked one of his new favourite places on his lover’s evolving body: the fat roll encompassing Tommy’s deep belly button.
Tommy nodded. “That would certainly save me a lot of time,” he agreed.
“It would also save you a lot of calories,” Hunter sighed impatiently. “I get so frustrated thinking of you burning off all my delicious breakfasts, trotting that giant ass of your back and forth to the photocopier.”
“But the girls in my office would miss seeing you though,” Tommy joked.
Hunter rolled his eyes. “Another good reason to quit,” he grumbled, chugging down one of his protein shakes and drying off his sweaty body with the towel they left under the bed.
“They actually asked me to apply for a job at another one of our branches the other day,” Tommy considered, remembering how little he had considered it at the time. “Two days in the office, three at home.”
“Where?” Hunter asked with surprising interest.
“North. We’d have to move. At least we’d be closer to Paul, Eddie, and the other guys. But then, it means uprooting your life as well.”
Hunter furrowed his eyebrows in disagreement. “Look at me!” he cried. “I could get a job at any fitness place I wanted. A move away is exactly the sort of thing that we need.”
“It is?” Tommy asked, having never heard Hunter even consider the idea of moving before.
Hunter came over to Tommy, who was still sticky and sprawled out on the bed. The guy’s immense, muscular body made the bed sink slightly as Hunter sat next to him, making the fat in Tommy’s tummy jiggle and lean towards the powerful lover, as if attracted by him. “Listen. You’re now a very fat man. By this time next week, I’ll have you at over 350lbs,” Hunter explained. “But people around here don't see that. All they see is that skinny little dweeb they used to know. That handsome guy with a six pack and no ass, who couldn’t admit that being dominated would make him so fucking horny.”
Tommy chuckled. Hunter’s descriptions were blunt, but always very accurate.
“It’s time we went somewhere new. Where people don’t know about how slim you used to be. Where they will see you the way that I do: just another fat, disgustingly overfed piggy.”
Tommy exhaled deeply, feeling himself getting aroused hearing Hunter using so many of the trigger words that he usually deployed when he was getting pleasured. He nodded. Perhaps Hunter was right. Maybe it was time for a change.
“You make sure that you look after him, won’t you?” Tommy’s mother sobbed, speaking to Hunter as the pair of them stopped to pick up the last of their things and load them into the truck.
“Don’t worry, Angela. He’s in good hands with me,” Hunter smiled back. Now that Tommy had grown wide enough, the big muscular man could rub his boyfriend’s disgustingly overgrown glutes the entire time he spoke to the guy’s mother, without anyone even noticing. “Your boy will be well taken care of.”
They all hugged, with Tommy’s parents telling him how proud they were about his big promotion, as well as how much they would miss him.
“Do you think they know? Even on some level?” Hunter asked as the pair of them got back into the truck. “They have to, surely? No one is that fucking stupid, watching their son get into a relationship and suddenly gaining over two hundred pounds in just over two years!” he sniggered, surprised that no one had mentioned Tommy’s weight today; even with the daringly tight t-shirt he had made him wear.
“Perhaps, on some level,” Tommy considered. At barely average height, his 370lbs was sitting more and more on his stomach these days. Only a few moments ago, Hunter had needed to push against his wide, overgrown butt, in full view of his parents, in order to get him back into the high removal truck they had hired for the journey. “But, if I’m honest, I don’t think they really know what’s going on.”
“So fucking stupid! It’s unbelieveable!” Hunter sighed, turning the volume way up on the stereo and pulling off his shirt as the air conditioning blasted into life. As much as he enjoyed playing the innocent boyfriend, Hunter also longed for recognition, in whatever form it came.
“Goodbye,” Tommy waved to his parents as they started pulling away. He knew they couldn’t hear him. The music was far too loud.
“Goodbye,” Hunter joined in bitterly as he started to steer. “I’ll look after your son. I’m turning him into a big fat pig, y’know!” he shouted loud and clear, although he would never be heard. “I’ll have the fat fucker at 400lbs by the time you see him this Christmas! Goodbye, idiots!”
Hunter laughed with delight at himself as they rolled down the street. He slipped on his sunglasses and opened his window, just a crack, to let in a bit of fresh air.
“Still think this is the right thing?” Hunter asked moments later, reaching for Tommy’s chubby little fingers and holding them sweetly. His question was so ambiguous, with so many different possible meanings, and an infinite amount of responses. Not that any of that mattered to Tommy. For him, there was only one possible answer to any of those questions.
“Yes,” he smiled with certainty. “Two hundred percent, yes!”
#gainer fiction#gay feedee#gainerstory#gayfeeder#gainer story#gainerstories#gayfeedee#gainer stories#gainerfic#gainer fic
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Captiv(e)ate - H.H
Pairing:Mafia boss! Hyunjin x Doctor/EMT!reader
Requested: Yes, you can see the original ask here.
Warnings: Fem/afab reader, Guns, blood, kidnapping?, cursing, kissing, suggestive, petnames (angel and darling), and probably more
WC: 4.4k
Sorry to the original asker that this took literal months 🙃i also want to add that i took a lot of creative liberties here and changed it up a bit. Hope you like it! Not proofread Masterlist
“Are you sure we’re in the right area? I don’t see any businesses, only abandoned buildings. Wasn’t the call for a business injury?”
“This is where the address is showing on the gps, Y/n.”
“Yeah, I get that,” you sighed, looking out the front window of the ambulance. “But doesn’t it just seem a little… off?”
Ray, the driver, shrugged, “ Guess we’ll see when we get there. The building should be right around the corner.”
You continued to look out of the window, doubt etched across your face. Being an EMT has taken you to many sketchy places since you started your career, but nothing has ever set the knot in your stomach so tight as it is now. A few minutes later the gps alerted that the destination was directly in front of you. With a deep breath you prepared to enter work mode and put your nerves aside and as the vehicle stopped you opened the doors.
Immediately you saw a small swarm of men filter quickly out of the building. Before you could hop out, the one who came out first reached behind him and pulled out a silver pistol, aiming it directly at you. You froze, eyes wide with terror and a chill down your spine.You slowly put your hands up to show you are unarmed. You could hear Ray behind you yelling in fear but you remained silent.
“No one move an inch.” The man with the gun growled menacingly, he had an Australian accent. “This is how this is gonna go. We are all getting into this ambulance, and you are going to treat our friend. You cooperate- you leave with your lives. You don’t… then you don’t. Capisce?”
You both nodded quickly, keeping your hands up. The man was satisfied with your choice and he motioned for you all to move aside. Once you did all the men began to hop into the ambulance, two of them carrying another who was nearly unconscious.
The men dropped the injured one onto the gurney then shut the doors harshly. “First things first,” The man with the gun said. “Give me your cell phones. No calling the cops.” The two of you shakily took out your phones and handed them over to the man. “Alright now do your jobs. Driver, head south towards Gangnam.”
It was incredibly cramped in the ambulance with all of the people but nonetheless you scooted closer to the man on the gurney. Your eyes did a quick sweep over the men; some were glaring at you in intimidation, others were looking at the injured man with deep worry on their faces.
With a deep yet shaky breath, you snapped on some rubber gloves and began to access the patient in front of you. He was a young guy, probably early 20’s. His lips were plump- the shape reminded you of a dumpling. His eyelashes were long and dark, flitting on his cheeks as he twitched with his eyes closed. Overall he was a very handsome man, they all were really, but something about this man in particular made your heart flutter. If he wasn’t bleeding out in front of you you might have taken a little more time to eye him up, but now was not the time to get distracted. Especially since your life was on the line if you didn’t save this man.
You could see that the blood was pouring out of a wound on his side and you lifted his shirt to find a bullet wound. You winced, finding a cloth and holding it on the wound quickly to help with the copious amount of blood. When you pressed into it, he gasped from the pain and his eyes shot back open.
“Nnnnhgggghh” He choked out and suddenly his hand was grasped from beside him. A young looking man with shoulder length blonde hair held his hand and with an unexpected deep voice tried to sooth him.
“Shh easy, Hyune. The docs gonna patch you right up.”
Another one spoke up from behind you, “Yeah you’re gonna be alright boss!”
Hyune, as he was called, looked over to you, his teeth clattering as he tried to hide his pain, and with a shaky nod he motioned for you to continue. You steeled yourself the best you could and got to work.
‘Hyune’ was banaged the best you could, but you would need a more steady place to work that wasn’t speeding down a highway. When you conveyed that to the men around you, you were met with glares.
“No, you will get it done here and now.” The one with the gun still out stated with a growl.
“C-chan..” Your patient croaked, “H-home..” They all did a double take at the man on the gurney, some scoffing and looking like they wanted to disagree but before they could he held up a hand and instantly they all stopped talking. “That’s an order.”
The man with the gun, ‘Chan’, sighed. “Ok, you got it.” Then he turned to you with hard eyes, “Do you know how to drive this thing?”
You were taken aback, “Uhh, no I don’t.”
He hummed, then looked at a man with copper colored hair and thin eyes, “You’re up, maknae.” the both of them went over to where Ray was. “Pull over in this cluster of buildings.” Ray did as he was told and pulled over behind a large factory.
The copper haired man reached behind him, “Sorry man, this is the end of the road for you.”
You couldn’t help the gasp that left you at the man's words. “No, please no!”
Both the men looked at you as if you were dumb, and then the younger one pulled out a wad of cash from his back pocket. He shoved it into the hands of Ray who was shaking in his fear.
“Take this as a token of our appreciation for your help and your silence about this.”
Ray nodded and got out of the ambulance, not even sparing you a glance. The younger man got into the driver's seat and began to drive the large vehicle with ease. You looked out the window to see Ray counting his large stack of cash with a smile on his face. It almost made you sick with how easily he was bought off.
One of the men who was still standing near you pulled a dark piece of fabric out from his pocket - a blindfold- and smirked at you. “Sorry, we can’t have you knowing where our hideout is.”
He sure didn’t sound sorry…
Your thoughts were cynical as the man wrapped the fabric over your eyes. He tied it tightly and then held your arm for the remainder of the ride.
It had felt like hours (though it had only been about 15 minutes) before you could feel the vehicle coming to a stop.The doors to the ambulance were quickly opened and you could feel the heat from outside immediately seep in. You yelped as you felt someone lift you into their arms.
“Shut it, I’m just helping you get out.” It was the voice of the one who blindfolded you. He hopped out with you in his arms and set you back down on your feet. You wobbled and almost tripped when he started to usher you to move, keeping a hold on your arm the whole time. You were led into a building and down a hall.
Suddenly the fabric was ripped from your eyes as the other men hurriedly wheeled in the gurney with ‘Hyune’ on into the room. The blonde one rushed in behind them with his arms full of medical equipment. The items were laid on a table and you were pushed closer to the injured man.
Chan threw a pair of rubber gloves at you, “Get to work doc.”
You put on the fresh gloves and breathed deeply to steady your nerves. You were a medical professional that worked as an emt, you thrived under pressure. This was no different… at least that’s what you told yourself as you got to work removing the bullet from this very good looking man.
You were able to breathe a sigh of relief when you finally finished sewing up the man. The entire time you worked you had been supervised and scrutinized by Chan and the blonde one, both of them keeping their gaze trained on your every move. You had worked in silence the whole time, and you were thankful for the quiet as it allowed you to focus. The silence also helped you think about the circumstances you have found yourself in.
You came to the conclusion that these men were part of the mafia- or some kind of gang- and the man you operated on was their boss. The realization did nothing to ease your anxiety, nor did the awareness that once you were done here they would most likely be done with you. You ignored the sick feeling within your stomach as you took off your bloodied gloves and stepped back from your patient.
“I-i’m done.” Damnit, you didn’t mean to stutter. “He just needs to rest and heal for a while. I gave him some morphine for the pain so it’s imperative that he relaxes to avoid further risk.”
The blonde one was by his side in an instant, grabbing his hand and checking him over. “Hear that, Jin? You’re gonna be fine.” Hyune tried to lift his head up but he was lightly pushed back down by the blonde. “Nuh uh you have to rest.”
“Felix..” He mumbled and tried to speak but it was coming out so quietly you couldn’t hear what was said, you only saw the brow raise from ‘Felix’ at what Hyune was saying.
“Uhh yeah, ok. Whatever you say.” Felix waved over Chan who came over. Chan side eyed you as Felix whispered something in his ear, making him sigh in frustration. Then he waved you closer to them.
You gulped and shuffled over to them. You were surprised when the injured man reached out and grabbed your hand, and he turned his head to look directly in your eyes. His eyes were droopy as if he was struggling to stay awake and he had a dopey grin on his face that made him look even more boyishly handsome.
“You saved me..” He started, staring directly into your gaze. “You must be an angel.”
“Uhh.” You felt your face heat up despite the small tinge of fear that still remained inside you. “No, m’ just a doctor. My name is Y/n.”
Your response caused him to burst into a fit of giggles, which in return made both men next to him let out a few chuckles. Seeing them laugh so casually made you feel slightly less anxious and you felt your shoulders relax a little.
“You’re funny. I like you.” He squeezed your hand again, his grip was shaky and clammy but for some reason it comforted you. His eyes flickered over to Chan, who rolled his eyes and approached you. “Be nice to her, Channie. S’ not everyday we have an angel among us.”
Chan snorted and grabbed your arm again, leading you away from the others and down a different hallway. He led you to a room and he opened it, motioning for you to enter. When you were apprehensive he ended up shoving you in and closing the door quickly behind you. The pit in your stomach grew as you heard the distinct click of the door being locked. You spun around and grabbed at the handle of the door but it didn’t budge.
Fuck.
It was at that moment that all the emotions you’ve been holding onto since this whole ordeal started came rushing to you all at once. All of the fear, frustration and anger began to pour out of you in the form of tears. Your hands went to your face as you sobbed and your back slid against the door until you were seated on the ground.
How did you get yourself into this mess? All you did was come to work. And now look at you. Locked away in some mobsters house. You finally lifted your head to look at your surroundings and saw you were in a bedroom. There was a small bed in the corner and another door that led to a small bathroom. You looked around for windows but there was only one tiny one with thick looking glass. So you couldn’t break it and escape..
You supposed there were worse places to be held, at least you weren’t in a jail cell, though you would have preferred to not be captive here in the first place. For what had to be two hours you sat there and thought about how unlucky you were, until finally there was a knock on the other side of the door.
You scrambled up and to your feet just as the door was unlocked and opened, revealing a man whose name you did not know. He had chunky cheeks and big dark boba eyes. He offered you a gentle smile when he saw you standing there.
“Hi. It’s uh- it’s time to check on Hyunjin.” So that was his name. Hyunjin. “He started complaining about the pain again.”
“Oh, ok.” You let him lead you out and down another few halls and up a set of stairs. The house you were in was huge and gorgeous. Beautiful floral paintings lined the walls and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Obviously these people had taste.
The man with you- who had introduced himself as Han- opened another door and led you inside. Laying in a massive bed was Hyunjin, blinking up at you as you carefully approached his bed side. He beamed when he saw that it was you who entered his space. “There's my angel.”
You shook your head, “I’m not an angel, sir. I’m just a doctor. How are you feeling?”
“Don’t call me sir, my name is Hyunjin. But my friends call me Hyune.” He winked after he said ‘friends’ and it brought more heat to your face. “And I’m feeling alright, Angel. Just a little tender with the morphine wearing off.” A quiet scoff and a ‘little tender my ass’ was heard from behind you, then Hyunjin sent a glare at Han who mumbled his apology quickly with a giggle. “How are you, Angel? My boys treating you well? You are my special guest here after all.”
“I’m your special guest?” You asked, shocked at his words and that he cared that you were being treated nicely. You tried not to show your surprise as you got back into work mode, checking his wounds and beginning to replace the gauze.
“Of course. You saved my life and I don’t take that kind of thing for granted. So you are the specialist guest I’ve ever had.” He gave you that dopey grin again and you felt your heart palpitate. Why are you reacting this way? Get a grip! He’s just a man! A dangerous one at that..
But a really really cute one.
Han cleared his throat, “Uhh boss, I don’t think your in your right mind yet, seems like the morphine is still-”
Han was cut off by another harsh glare sent his way by Hyunjin, “ I think I’m perfectly in my right mind, Jisung, and I appreciate your concern, but what I would appreciate more is you shutting up.” Han mimicked zipping his lips and locking it, raising his hands in surrender. Then Hyunjin turned back to you just as you finished wrapping him up again with that charming smile.
You offered him a small one in return, “The wound has been cleaned, it’ll have to be cleaned and rewrapped twice daily to avoid infection. No strenuous movements for a few weeks while it heals and make sure you’re drinking enough water and eating.”
He grabbed onto your hand once again, “Ah thank you so much, Angel. Speaking of food, have you eaten? Are you hungry?” You shook your head but he didn’t accept your answer. “ Oh come on you must be a little hungry, you’ve been working so hard today. I’ll have dinner set up, whatever you like, hmm?” He nodded over at Han who pulled out his phone and sent a quick text. “So what will it be? Steak? Lobster?”
You said the first thing that came to your mind in a panic, “How about pizza?”
“Pizza?” He laughed, crinkling his eyes. “You could have anything in the world and you choose pizza? Oh Angel, you are surprising.” He brought your hand up and laid a kiss on the back of your hand. “It’ll be done before you know it.”
You found your confidence in that moment, the burning questions rattling around and begging to escape. “Can I ask you something, please?” Your voice came out more timid than you intended and you mentally cursed yourself.
“Of course.” He didn’t even hesitate, having an inkling about what you wanted to know.
“I’m still not totally sure what is going on here.. I mean I get that you guys hijacked my ambulance and you needed medical help, but I don’t know what I’m still doing here or why you’re being so nice to me or even who you guys are.” You twiddle your thumbs and avoided eye contact, though you were not sure why you were so nervous.
Hyunjin chuckled, patting you on the back of your hand, “Promise not to freak out?” You nodded in agreement. “This is the Straykids headquarters. You’re still here because you have been more than useful to me and you saved my life.”
Upon hearing the name ‘Straykids’ you knew exactly who he was. This was the leader of the most notorious mafia group in Seoul; Hwang Hyunjin. This man was known for being dangerous, violent and bloodthirsty. His whole gang was, really. You had seen first hand the leftovers of one of their shootouts, having been called to the scene a few months prior to try to find any survivors. There were none.
But this man doesn’t seem to be the cruel criminal that he had been made out to be- though maybe it was the drugs you had administered that was altering his mind. So far he had been kind to you, and had worried that you were being taken care of.
It was like he could see the gears turning in your head and he let out another chuckle. “Don’t worry, Angel, you’re safe here. No one here is going to do anything to harm my special little Angel.” Hyunjin winked again, then a ding was heard from his phone. He leaned over and read the text, “Pizza is here. Hannie will take you down to the dining room, I will join you in a moment. Ok?” He finally let go of your hand and sent you off with Han.
You were seated at this long elegant oak dining table, a gang member on each side of you as they call scarfed down the slices of pizza. Hyunjin sat at the end of the table, keeping his eyes on you as you picked at your food. He could see how nervous you were to be surrounded by infamous criminals but he was also intrigued by how well you were holding yourself together. He was starting to like you more and more.
“So how long have you been an EMT?” The question came from the boy next to you- I.N he was called- as he shoved another bite into his mouth.
You cleared your throat, “About a year. I worked in the hospital for a while before this as a resident.”
He nodded, swallowing . “What made you leave working in the comfort of the hospital? Seems like it would be a pretty cushy gig”
“Yeah it was.” You agreed, “But it was so boring. I like to be out there in the action.”
That had caught everyone's attention. A few looked at you with raised brows. “Action huh?” Minho had asked from across from you. “Like what?”
They noticed how you lit up as you started talking about some of the medical emergencies you had seen, how passionate you sounded as you described how you helped people. Hyunjin especially could see all your emotions as you spoke.
“Sounds bloody.” Minho said, earning him a light hit to the head from Seungmin. “Fuck off!” He grouched at the boy next to him.
You shrugged, already feeling more comfortable. “It can be. Nothing you guys aren’t used to, I’m sure.”
All eight men started to laugh, some nodding along as your words rang true. They were all much more personable now, acting like normal guys and cracking jokes and laughing together. In fact they were all so normal it was almost unsettling. These are not the kind of men you envisioned when you imagined the deadly mafia. They seemed more like a family than a gang.
You felt a hard pat on the back from Chan who was sitting on the other side of you, “You’re kinda funny, doc.”
“Thanks I try.” You gave a small grin to him and finished your pizza.
It had gone like this for the next two weeks. Every day you were let out of your room to treat Hyunjin and keep the wound from getting infected, and then you would either go back to your room or were allowed to hang out with some of the mafia members.
Every day Hyunjin would flirt with you, calling you Angel and telling you how much he valued you. You didn’t want to fall for his charms but you were just a girl. And he was one appealing man. He made sure you were cared for, and showed you kindness. There was never a moment (other than that first day) that you had felt like you were in danger with him or the other members.
His injury was healing nicely and you knew that soon there would be no use for you, and that was the only thought that brought you any kind of anxiety. You doubted they would just send you on your way; you knew way too much about them and their ‘organization’. They hadn’t been exactly secretive about it since you’ve been there.
You went to find Hyunjin to do his exam and found him sitting at his desk in his office. Since he was healing he was able to do more behind the scenes work and as the leader he definitely had work to do. Organized crime required more work than anyone realized.
You walked in and he looked up from whatever he was studying and offered you one of his dazzling smiles. “Hiya Angel. Is it that time again?”
You nodded, “Uh huh, lemme see it.”
He smirked and lifted his shirt to reveal his toned abdomen. “If you wanted me to take my clothes off you should have just asked. I would never deny an Angel.” There he was with his flirting that always brought a deep heat over your face and ears.
“Yeah yeah, just come ‘er.” You muttered and took off his bandage. You examined the wound. Just as you thought, it was healed enough that you would no longer need to take care of it. “It’s healing very well, Hyunjin. You have been taking great care of it.”
“That’s all thanks to the incredible doctor that stitched it up and brought me back from the brink.” He said, looking down at you and dropping his shirt back back.
“Well you’ll be happy to know that you no longer require my expertise, it should be just fine as long as you keep it clean.” You tried to smile but it didn’t reach your eyes and Hyunjin could see right through you.
“What’s wrong, Angel?” He cupped your cheek with his big hands, making you face him.
You tried to shake your head, “Nothing, I’m happy you're doing better.”
“Buuuut” He prompted.
You let out a sigh, embarrassed you even feel this way. “ But I’m done treating you. And now you're going to toss me out.”
His eyes widened and confusion washed over his features. “What? Who said that? Did one of the boys tell you that?”
“No they didn’t say anything but I just assumed tha-”
“Don’t assume anything, I had no plans of getting rid of you.” He stared hard into your eyes.
“B-but you don’t need me anymore..”
He tsked, “You silly girl. Haven’t you come to realize that I’ll always need you? Who else would take such good care of me and the boys. Don’t think I didn’t see it when you patched up Minho after his cooking incident. Or when you cured Felix's cold last week.”
“Oh that was nothing.” You protested, your hands coming up to fist his shirt as he got even closer.
“Not to me.” He leaned closer to your face, getting his point across. You thought he was going to kiss you but instead he pressed a peck to your forehead. Then he pulled back slightly. “If you want to leave, then I will let you go. I know you wouldn’t say anything about us to anyone. But before you have to know that I want you here. I want you to stay by my side. Not just as my medic but as my woman. You are the most interesting and incredible woman I’ve ever met. You captivate me like no one ever has.”
Your hands wrung in his shirt at his sentiment. You didn’t know how to answer. You knew the smart thing would be to go- to leave this place and never think twice about these mobsters. But for once you wanted to follow your heart, not your brain. You wanted to stay and you wanted him.
“I-I want that too..” You said quietly and screwed your eyes shut. “I would like to remain here. With you, Hyunjin.”
You heard him hum in satisfaction and then you felt your face being tilted up and suddenly the softest pair of lips you had ever felt were on yours. You let out a squeak of surprise and then melted into his kiss. You groaned when his tongue swiped on your lower lip asking for entrance which you gladly gave him.
Hyunjin suckled on your own tongue for a moment then pulled away from you, leaving you breathless. Both of your lips were swollen and you couldn’t stop gazing into each other's eyes. He ran a thumb along your cheekbone, “Welcome to heaven, Angel.”
©doitforbangchan
Im not the proudest of this but it took me so long 😭😭 plz enjoy. comments and reblogs are appreciated
Tagged; @jehhskz @athforskz
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#skz#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin stray kids#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#requested
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Girlfriends?
W.C. - 5.7 k
a/n: wonze kid is backkkkkkkkkk and with a bang.
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Growing up in Sevilla, life was perfect. Three older brothers that encouraged your footballing ability practically from the second you took your first breath, a set of parents that pushed you to be the very best at everything, and an academy that proved to be the absolute best for your development made for a good childhood.
A quick learner by far, you had already started playing with girls twice your age when you were 10, and by age 12 (and a half) you had already started to train with the senior girls, not old enough to be allowed to play in matches.
It was a weekly routine you had built up over the years, go train with the senior girls during the weekdays, school work completed during the afternoon, games with the girls your age on fridays, games with the U21s during the sunday afternoon. It was hectic, sure, but you were good, really good.
Some weeks you would have to skip the U21 matches in favor of tournaments with the other youth teams, which in turn gave you perhaps the best gift of your lifetime, a (by now) 5’6 brunette with the most encaptivating greenish eyes and the feistiest demeanor you’ll ever encounter.
Julia Romero, una true madridista.
Her white clad frame had been a constant in your life since you were practically too short to reach the kitchen table, as feisty as she always had been.
That almost chaotic energy always translated onto the pitch, with creative passes and shots from distance being a regular occurrence in her game. She had your heart captured since the moment you’d first laid eyes on her.
Through the multitude of years you’d come to know each other, you had formed a special partnership both on and off the field, a connection that led to more than a few trophies for the youth national teams.
A package deal as most would label you two as, playing for teams miles upon miles away from each other. It was funny when they (mostly parents of the other kids) would refer to you as that, a package deal.
It was even funnier when they’d refer to you as twins, each fiery and competitive in your own rights, but knowing the hidden affections quickly developing, it just felt wrong.
The weekends you were meeting up to play against each other quickly became the highlights of your weeks, waiting patiently for the next opportunity to challenge the other.
When, at the ripe age of 13, you both got your very own cell phones, communication became ten million times easier and in turn you became ten times more in love with the breakout madrid star. Best in Spain, Y/n/n and Juli.
Strangely enough though, neither of you clocked the fact that you were both madly, undoubtedly, so in love with each other until that night when you both turned 14.
Julia always liked to boast about the fact that she was 10 minutes older than you, born right before midnight, whilst you were born right after midnight.
Sitting on the hotel bed in your shared room at the under 21 Spain camp, the only players under the age of 17, you and your best friend obviously got to room together.
Right across from you sat Julia, with her normal mischievous smile, looking deeply into your eyes as the clock ticked down to midnight, anticipation filling her body more than your own. Your knees touch hers ever so slightly, you both sitting crisscrossed so that you’d be able to even fit on the bed in the first place.
“What are you going to wish for?” She asks, eyes wide in suspense, as if the answer had been something she had been waiting for since the dawn of time. Leaning back into the headboard, you look up towards the ceiling, contemplating (but not really at the same time) about what you would wish for as you blew out the lit match only minutes from now.
“Maybe a contract from Barcelona.” You tease, looking down at her unamused face, shrieking when she ‘attacks’ you, jumping onto your body and tickling your sides. “No, no, stop, stop, I won’t, I promise.” You gasp out between fits of laughter, Julia quickly retreating with a satisfied look on her face.
“Mhm, better keep that promise. I can’t stand seeing your little sad face when I beat you.” Laying down beside you, Julia starts the teasing again, the look on her face one of amusement, eyes widening as she notices the arms of the clock on the wall almost at midnight.
Watching her spring up from the bed, your eyes follow her all the way until she stops at her bag, pulling a box of matches out of the front compartment.
Pretending you weren’t just studying her entire being when she turns around, Julia makes her way back to the bed, resuming her position on the bed.
“Sit up lazy.” You roll your eyes at the playful insult slipping from her lips, begrudgingly sitting up and facing the shorter girl.
She pulls out a match and strikes it against the match board, lighting up in the span of milliseconds before she holds it out closer to you, waiting for you to blow the flame out. It was the next best thing to a cake, with diets and all.
Actually pondering over what you would wish, only one thing comes to mind.
Closing your eyes, you blow the flame out quickly, only one thing repeating in your mind as you do.
‘All I wish for is you, Julia.’
It puts a small smile on your lips, that much you can’t deny, and as you open your eyes you see the smile is mirrored by the girl across from you, her soft, plump lips stretching into that familiar smile you love oh so much.
“Soooo, what did you wish for?” She asks playfully, smirking at the silly smile painted on your face.
“I don’t wish and tell Juli, those are the rules.” You make a play on the popular saying, backing away from her slowly, as if she wouldn’t notice. Her eyes narrow at you, like she knew something you didn’t.
“Oh really, that’s how it is?” She moves closer to you on the bed, knees just about touching now as she continues her interrogation, looking up at you through her painted lashes.
“Mhm, that’s exactly how it is mi amor.” The casual nickname slips out from between your lips as she leans in closer to you, face only centimeters from your own. You see the way her eyes flick down to rest on your lips for just a second, her hands creeping onto your knees carefully, like she didn’t want to startle you.
You copy her, eyes looking down at the soft lips not too far away from yours, wanting nothing other than to just close the gap between you.
“Do it.” The faint whisper comes from the girl across from you, her lips barely parted as she speaks in that low faint tone, her eyes briefly meeting yours as they look up from your lips. Your eyes look back down at her lips, tongue peeking out to wet your lips quickly. “Kiss me.”
You don’t waste another second after that, leaning in and capturing her lips with your own. They were everything you could have hoped for and more, sweet like the candy you had shared before, with just the smallest hint of mango from the lipgloss she had put on earlier in the day. Her lips were soft like pillows and it felt like you were dreaming, in what world could she not be a figment of your imagination.
When she starts to pull away you chase after her lips, one taste of her and you were already hooked on the drug that is Julia Romero.
“Was that what you wished for?” She asks, her hand pressing against the middle of your chest to almost stop you from catching her lips with yours again.
“Yes, you, all I wished for was you.” Julia smiles with her whole face, looking at you all sweetly like she always did, that love in her eyes stronger than ever.
“Good, because that’s what I wished for too.” Your expression turns confused, like you couldn’t understand what she was saying.
“You wished for yourself too?” The girl has to keep herself from rolling her eyes at your stupidity, instead laying down on the bed just beside where you’re still sitting up and extending her arms out for you to crawl into.
“You’re a dumbass.” She says, laughing as you bury your face in her neck and sigh loudly, throwing your leg around her hips and pulling her entire body into yours.
“Yeah but I’m your dumbass.” Now that you knew she liked you, you would never let her go. And based on the way she laughed and hummed in agreement, you were pretty sure she liked the idea of that too.
—----------------------
The next few months go surprisingly well, with Julia coming down to visit on the weekends every month and you going up to Madrid two weeks after that. The months neither of you had time to visit, that’s when facetime was used the most.
It hurt, not being able to see each other every day, but that was simply life. School and training started picking up again, especially as you had finally been moved up to the senior team permanently, playing in the dying minutes of games and even scoring at times.
But you knew that it would pay off, all the time spent on the pitch and away from your girlfriend, as you got to dedicate all the goals you scored to her. When you scored, the first thing you did was kiss the tape you always had around your wrist (from an old injury that still caused some pain), her name hidden beneath a layer of it, before you ran towards the camera at the corner flag to do your half of the duo celebration you’d both come up with years ago.
In reality it was just a handshake, but you did your half of it in front of the camera every time, no matter what, because you knew she was at home doing the other half.
That was until the last game of the 21/22 season, Sevilla v Barcelona. The team hadn’t lost a game the whole season, undefeated in Liga F and you wanted to break their streak.
Definitely not because a certain someone was in the crowd, waving enthusiastically every time your eyes met as you warmed up. No, it wasn’t her.
You wanted to impress her, not that you’d ever tell her that, seeing as you’d never hear the end of it if you did.
Like usual, you sat on the bench for most of the game, exchanging silly faces with your girl, not even batting an eye as Barcelona hit the net one, two, three, four, five times. She was all you could focus on when you sat on the uncomfortable bench, leg bouncing up and down in anticipation for the call to get on the pitch.
“Y/l/n, it’s time, go warm up.” Your coach told you, watching with careful eyes as you started going through the motions of warming up. It was only the 65th minute, so you had plenty of time to make your mark on the game, like you wanted to.
Only a minute or two later you’re standing at the sidelines, looking back to where your girl is sitting for a bit of reassurance, the girl flashing a big smile and two equally enthusiastic thumbs up your way. Taking a big breath in, you breathe out through your mouth, holding your hands up for your teammate to slap as she makes her way off the pitch for you to enter.
“This is surely not what Barcelona have expected from Sevilla, 14 year old superstar in the making Y/n Y/l/n stepping onto the pitch, towering over her grown opponents as she takes her place in the striker position.” The commentators explain to the people watching the game online, looking on as the game restarts, the ball in Barcelona’s half. You can feel the atmosphere in the stadium, the small section of Sevilla fans cheering louder than the Barcelona fans for just a moment as you step on.
The academy product, scoring against women twice her age most of the time, a superstar from their very own city. They had the right to be proud.
Loudest of all was your girlfriend, standing and cheering for you in one of your old Spain jerseys, as much as she did love you, there was no way that she would ever wear another team’s shirt.
The Barcelona team you were meeting was probably the most difficult team to play against, their skilled midfielders keeping the ball from you and the centerbacks keeping you from ever getting close to their goal. Still, you were nothing if not determined.
Getting the ball back to your feet, you think about all the videos you’d watched and analyzed of the opposing team, how they built up their attacks, how they closed down other teams, everything. All of it is in your head, you know them, you know how they play and you know how to use it to your advantage.
Starting your run through the middle of the pitch, the first player you encounter is Ana-Maria, her style was easy, and it was even easier to tap the ball between her open legs and push around her, continuing your run.
The next player running towards you is a certain Aitana Bonmatí, undoubtedly one of the best players in the world and a player that’s more difficult to get through, given not only the technical skill she possesses but also the pure physicality of the shorter woman. Switching the ball onto your non-dominant foot, you quickly maneuver it to the other one, flicking the ball up in the air before taking advantage of the height difference to run around her and head the ball back down to your foot.
Next up was Mapí Leon, a player that wouldn’t hesitate to use brute force to stop you from getting the ball in the goal, still, like Bonmati she was quite short. Running straight at her, like you predicted, she slides in to get the ball, only you’ve already chipped it straight over her outstretched legs, running to the edge of the penalty box.
The last line of defense, Paños, the one you have the most trouble reading. The goalkeeper rushes out towards you, making herself as big as possible to be able to deflect any shot from your foot. The one thing she doesn’t realize is the fact that you have a knack for curling the ball around the keeper in the most infuriating way possible.
The whole team watches with stunned expressions as the ball travels towards the goal, landing in the bottom corner with a satisfying swish. Two minutes, that’s all it took for you to make your mark on the game, two damn minutes.
Running towards the Sevilla fans on the opposite side of the pitch, you dutifully kiss the tape on your wrist, then tap the badge atop your heart before stopping in front of your girlfriend, holding your hand out to do your celebration.
Moments later, after the whole handshake is done, you wink at her before taking your leave, not forgetting to bow down in front of the screaming fans. Sure, you were still 5-1 down, but you had just scored against the biggest team in the country so you were allowed to celebrate.
Returning to your position, the game restarts and you immediately notice the increased mancoverage on you, you could barely even get the ball before there would be an annoying Barcelona player breathing down your neck.
Using this to your advantage, you distracted the women around you as your teammates built up attacking plays. At the same time, you were still freshly on with loads of energy, leaving the tired players to chase after you as you made runs upon runs.
In the 76th minute you see your teammate run up the wing and you just know she needs a head to meet the ball she plays into the box. Running as fast as you can, you launch yourself up towards the ball, angling it down to the ground just inside the goal with your head, like a bird of sorts.
A brace off the bench against one of the best teams in the world, yeah that’s just something you would do. This time you run towards the cornerflag, your team surrounding you as you get various pats on your head and shoulders. When the team starts to leave to their positions on the field, you decide to do one last thing in front of the furious Barcelona fans.
You blow a kiss to the crowd, laughing at their overreactions to the simple gesture.
In the 89th minute, you find yourself surrounded by shorter women, all trying to keep you from rising up above them and heading the ball from the corner into the goal. Like the slippery eel you are, you try to run circles around them, trying to confuse them with your position.
When you finally settle between two of their defenders you decide to be a little cheeky, one of your favorite pastime activities.
“So are all Barca defenders this short? Or have I just struck gold today?” You tease Mapi, who’s elbow meets your ribs harshly, almost making you double over in pain. There wasn’t much muscle protecting your dear ribs yet, or the rest of your body to be fair, so impact was felt to the full extent.
“Are you not meant to be doing your fifth grade homework?” She asks in the same tone as you had before, looking back at you with that oversure expression on her face. You just know that you have to wipe it off her face, with a goal preferably.
“Aren’t you supposed to be playing bingo with the other elders? Or can you just not reach the table?” Before Mapi can retort, the ball is played into the box and with athleticism that only Zlatan could rival, you leap up into the air, twisting around so that your heel meets the ball with your back to the goal, a perfect scorpion kick. Well as perfect as it could be with you ending up on the ground in the goal.
Dying minute bangers, another specialty of yours.
Blowing another kiss, this time towards the Spanish defender standing dumbfounded in front of you, you get up off the floor, running past her to get back to your own half, not without yelling a quick “that one was for you” to the world class defender. All in good fun of course, you wouldn’t do it maliciously, especially not seeing as they were still leading.
The final whistle is blown only moments later, leaving you to collapse onto the pitch in pure exhaustion from the game. Considering the fact that you’d already played a full 90 against a U23 team earlier that week, you were pretty tired.
Wondering silently if you could just take a nap in the middle of the field, you’re interrupted in your daydreaming by a hand in front of your face, a hand leading up to a player in blaugrana.
“You had a good game kid, next time though, could you not score a hattrick off the bench?” Mapi helps you up and off the ground, shaking your hand properly as you just stand there, a silly smile on your face.
“I can score a double hat trick with a start if that would make you feel any better?” The older defender ruffles your hair quickly at the teasing before she lets you go, sending you on your merry way to wherever it is you went after games.
Trudging across the pitch, you almost fall into your girlfriend’s arms as soon as you get close enough, pretty much falling asleep in the crook of her neck. She giggles sweetly and the sound paints a smile on your face, her whispered complaints of how sweaty you were drowned out by your playful yawns.
Pulling away from her neck, your eyes meet and your cheeks turn even more red than before, the physical exertion from the match clearly catching up to you. But no kiss was exchanged, you two wanted to keep your blooming relationship to yourselves and away from the public eye, leading to the act of just being best friends continuing out in the open.
Your girlfriend’s eyes shift from your own to something behind you, eyes widening exponentially at what she found.
“What’s up?” You ask Julia, who just continues to stare at something over your shoulder.
“Enemy, 6 o’clock.” Is all she says in response, rolling her eyes when you just look at her confused, placing her hands on either side of your head to turn it back to where she was looking. A smiling Alexia Putellas making her way over to where you’re standing next to your girlfriend is the last thing you were expecting, but that’s exactly what was happening.
“What the fu-” You start before one of the hands placed on the sides of your head lands over your mouth, Julia clearly not wanting you to swear in front of a legend. Licking her palm, Julia snatches her hand back as quickly as she had put it there, wiping her hand on the front of her shirt.
Looking back at her with a smirk, Julia rolls her eyes again before she slaps the back of your head, Alexia having stopped right in front of you, an unreadable expression on her face.
“You played really good today Y/n, impressive for your age, don’t be surprised if you hear from your agent within the coming days.” She smiles before turning on her heel, almost whiplashing you with the quick statement.
Looking back at the brunette, she meets your gaze with a knowing look in her eyes and a smile stretched across her lips.
“Accept it.” Julia tells you silently, the fond look never disappearing off her face.
“What?” You ask the Real Madrid youth player, not understanding what she meant by that. There wasn’t a world wherein Julia Romero would tell you to join Barcelona.
“If you get a contract offer from them, you have to accept it.” She clarifies, looking you in the eyes deeply, like she was telling you that she was being fully truthful, which she was either way.
“Why?”
“It’s what’s best for your career, I won’t let a little rivalry destroy us. Plus it'll make El Clasico 10 times more fun when I’ll absolutely crush you.” She winks at the end, making you blush once again.
“Oh in your dreams, pretty girl.” Starting to walk back to your locker room, you keep up the conversation with your girl, walking backwards to see her.
“You know you are.” Stumbling over your feet, you fall back onto your butt at the words, the already visible blush on your face growing darker, both at the words but also what you had done.
It’s just like you to score a hattrick against the best team in the world then trip over your own feet walking backwards.
—---------------------------
Just like that, a few days later Barcelona offered you a contract and the rest was history. You moved out of the small house in Sevilla to Barcelona, where you moved into the home of the two overbearing English women. A key part in the 22/23 Champions League winning squad, you scored a goal in the final of the competition, the winning goal that got you the shiny gold medal hanging over your bed, which then led to you being called up to the senior national team and winning a World Cup gold, but that’s a story for another day.
You continued to see Julia on the weekends neither of you had anything to do, getting on a train to Madrid under the guise of having a sleepover with Vicky, meeting up with your girl, spending the night and then going back to Barcelona just in time for Lucy to pick you up from Vicky’s house. Sure it cost you a good 100 euros every time, with the train tickets and the so-called ‘Vicky bribe’, but it was so worth it.
You got a weekend with your girlfriend and Vicky got 20 euros. A win-win.
During the two years you’d lived with the English women, they hadn’t suspected anything, not that you had a girlfriend nor that you went and visited her as often as you possibly could.
Well they didn’t suspect anything until the Clasico, where they had seen you both laughing and smiling all secretly to each other, like something was going on between you and the Real Madrid player.
Coincidentally, that day was also the day when your girlfriend first met your unofficial parents.
—-------------------------
The first El Clásico you had played against your girl had ended in a 4-1 win to Barcelona, with you scoring a brace and Julia scoring Madrid’s sole goal. She had been moved up to the first team at the start of the 23/24 season and despite her technically being your enemy, you were still over the moon for her.
As soon as the final whistle had been blown, you dropped to the floor like you always did, ready to take an impromptu nap right there and then.
A recognisable giggle sounds from above you, opening one eye to look up at the white clad midfielder standing in front of you with a hand out, you don’t waste a second before taking the hand in your own, pulling the girl down onto the ground instead of pulling yourself up.
“Lia, my sweetheart, what are you doing down on the ground?” You ask her playfully as she slaps your shoulder, sitting up and looking down at you with that captivating smile on her face, rolling her eyes at you like you loved.
“You’re an idiot, you know that.” Nodding along with her words, you mirror her, sitting up and leaning your weight back onto your hands, smiling mischievously her way.
“Yeah, you’ve told me like a gazillion times.” Wifting your arms around as you speak, you don’t notice Lucy and Keira making their way over to you and your ‘friend’.
“Told you what?” Lucy interrupts, looking between you and Julia rapidly, trying to understand the relationship there, friends or something more.
“Nothing special Lucifer, did you want anything or did you just come to interrupt?” Stifling a laugh at Lucy's expression, you look at your girlfriend, thinking you’d see a smile stretched over her pillowy lips, instead finding what you assume to be a look of dread on her face.
Rolling your eyes good naturedly, you stand up from your sitting position and dust yourself off before offering a courteous hand to your secret girlfriend, who takes it and stands up, half hiding behind you.
“Right, Robert, Keira, this is my childhood friend Julia, who unfortunately plays for Real Madrid which means she’ll never win anything ever.” You tease the brunette, like you always did, it was just too easy. Still, you were met with a slap to the back of your head, like usual, before she sticks her hand out to properly introduce herself to your pseudo moms.
“Julia Romero, nice to meet you both.” The way you’re looking at her definitely exposes you more than it should, but you don’t mind it, the two women in front of you knew nothing about your love life as it was.
“Childhood friends you say? Nothing else…?” Lucy really wasn’t smooth, or subtle for that matter as she tried asking you the question they were both thinking.
“Childhood friends, we’re actually best friends but I didn’t think that was a worthwhile distinction.” You respond sassily, Lucy ruffling your hair before you could even try to stop her, and whilst it was annoying for you, it did put a smile on Julia’s face and that was all that mattered.
“Alright, alright, just wrap it up soon, the bus leaves in 15.” The two leave after that, and suddenly you’re just standing with your girlfriend, all alone.
“Well, I should get going, my teammates are probably wondering where I am.” Her voice trails off as she points over her shoulder and you smile, raising your eyebrows softly.
“I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”
As you both make your way back to your respective locker rooms, you’re both oblivious to the bets being placed on what your relationship actually is.
—------------------------------
Champions League final 2024, one of the biggest games of your career, big games that keep piling up as you play for Barcelona. A final, it was a final and Jona had insisted on starting you.
Big breath in, big breath out. It’s fine. You can do this.
Walking out onto the pitch, your eyes immediately search for her, the twinkling green that you love so so much. She waves at you all excited in the old and tattered spain jersey she had insisted on wearing. Breath in, breath out. It’s time.
The first 20 minutes or so are calm, filled with counter attacks and defending against another one of the best teams in the world, it’s just Lyon.
Weaving through defender after defender, not unlike how you had against your current team nearly two years before, your brain is on autopilot, just focusing on getting the ball in the goal no matter what. And that you do, curling the ball around the defenders, watching as it ends up in the top corner of the goal.
Champions League final, yeah right.
Pointing to the brunette in the stands, everyone in the arena understands that the goal was dedicated to her, no one seeing the wink you send her though before you return to restart the game.
The rest is pretty simple, Aitana scoring just before half time and then Alexia scoring only minutes after coming on as a substitute. It all goes so fast, because suddenly the final whistle goes and you’ve won another Champions League.
You won the Champions League.
You don’t realize it until after you’ve all gotten your medals and done the trophy lift. No, it isn’t until there’s a sprinting Julia Romero heading your way that you actually register it, you won.
There’s a split second between when you catch her and when you make the decision to kiss her that you can’t help but think about all that has happened since you first got together. Two Champions League finals won, a World Cup victory, a contract from Barcelona, her getting into the senior squad at Real Madrid, her winning various tournaments with the youth teams, her joining you in the senior national team. So much had happened in so little time, and yet she was the best thing of all.
And so, you kiss her. For the first time, you actually kiss her in public, in front of friends and family, but also the millions of people watching from behind their screens. Her legs wrap tightly around your waist, arms tangling around your neck, fingers running through your hair. Your hands settle under her thighs, supporting her body so that she wouldn’t be able to just fall off.
The kiss is just magical, PG enough so that you don’t get yelled at but still some tongue action going on. Her lips are as soft as the day you first kissed her, just as sweet but now there’s a hint of salt, wet tears rolling down her cheeks as she kisses you.
Pulling away, your hands roam up until they settle against the sides of her face, thumbs brushing away the tears that just seem to keep on falling. Her forehead leans against yours, nose nudging yours as she asks for another kiss.
Releasing her legs from their grip around your waist, Julia stands in front of you, her arms threading around your neck again as she brings you down for yet another kiss, this one not as passionate, more like a congratulations kiss. Pulling back, she pecks your lips twice before fully letting you go.
“Why are you crying baby?” Tears were still rolling down her face, no matter how much you tried to wipe them, they kept on coming.
“I’m just so proud of you, look at how far you’ve come. You won the Champions League.” Smiling at her adorable reasoning, you lean in to kiss her once more, well that is until you’re interrupted, yet again by a certain someone.
“Childhood friends huh? Nothing more? I knew you were together, I could see it.” Turning towards Lucy, you roll your eyes at the statement, clearly she did know a little, but obviously not everything.
“So you know that I actually didn’t sleep over at Vicky’s all those times then? That I was really in Madrid all those times?” You tease, which was probably a bad idea, considering the fact that you definitely were not allowed to go to Madrid over the weekends. “Amor, I’ll see you in a little.” You rush out before you start running, Lucy wasting no time and chasing after you.
A calmer looking Keira comes up to Julia, who’s standing there dumbfounded, and offers her the hand that’s not clutching onto the trophy.
“Welcome to our little family, they do that sometimes, same level of maturity, them two.” Julia shakes her head fondly, looking at the terrified expression you’re wearing as you get chased around the pitch. “They’ll calm down soon, then we can take some pictures together, all of us. You’ll come home with us later, right?”
And even though Julia knew she’d be teased for the rest of her life, she still stood and posed for photos with you and the CL trophy her rivals had won.
Photos that later got posted to your instagram with the caption;
My trophy and my wife, nothing better in life.
#woso#woso x reader#lionesses#barcelona femeni#woso imagines#parents universe#lucy bronze#lucy bronze x reader#keira walsh x reader#keira walsh#wonze kid#wonze x reader#wonze
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Starting Over: Chapter 2 - Broken
Mob!Bucky x Female Reader
Series Masterlist
When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.
I'm sorry, part 2 got a little out of hand in length so I've decided to split it up into different chapters! There should only be one more part after this (maybe??!) Hope you enjoy! This is more of Bucky's POV and gives some more insight into what happened. Thanks for all your engagement with this series, as always comments and reblogs are appreciated! Unfortunately I no longer use taglists.
💔
Your phone sat on Bucky’s desk as he stared at it blankly. He wasn’t really sure what he expected, maybe that you’d call it, or it would magically reveal some sort of answers to the many questions he had. But it didn’t. It just laid there, about as useful as a rock. A ‘babe, how are you?! we need to hang out soon!’ notification from Natasha had lit up the screen an hour or so before, but otherwise it just continued to sit silently – an insulting prompt that mocked him with your absence, the clock on the screen taunting him with how late it had become.
He'd had a glance at the checking and credit card accounts he’d set up for you, but they hadn’t been touched. In fact, nothing had been touched. None of your clothes had moved, your toiletries remained in the bathroom. You hadn’t even appeared to have taken any shoes with you. Natasha’s casual check-in text suggested your friends were unaware of what had happened. You’d just…vanished. A ghost in the night.
He felt nauseous, his gut churning. He’d tried to find the CCTV footage of you leaving, but the image was grainy – he could hardly make you out. The cameras had been acting up lately, he needed Steve to get them fixed. He kept thinking about you wandering out into the night by yourself, no money, no plan, how he’d forced you out into the cold. The one person he swore to protect, to keep safe.
His guilt was eating him alive.
But then he thought of the recording. Your voice so clear, laughing with the fed – mocking Bucky, calling him names and sneering at his gullibility. He could hardly believe it all at first. Not you? Not his doll, who had opened him up to love in ways he could have never imagined. Surely it couldn’t have been you, who had uprooted his life for the better, who had hit him like a whirlwind, changing his very being forever in all the best ways?
But he’d checked in with Banner who ran the tech and had confirmed you had been there. Your phone had pinged the cell tower in that exact spot they’d tracked the meeting point to. They’d even found a CCTV clip of you getting in a strange car that day, despite telling Bucky you were having Wanda over for a girl’s night. The audio was delivered by his own men, verified by their informant. The evidence was overwhelming.
‘It was so easy’ you had giggled cruelly on the clip, the words burned into his memory, ‘I just fluttered my eyelashes a few times and he was asking me to move in after a few weeks. I barely lifted a finger yet he swallowed everything I gave him and asked for more. Now I know how his whole operation works…but I need more time on the Stark deal. Just give me a bit longer and I’ll have that one-armed pussy spill everything after a few more ‘I love yous’ and dirty fucks. I promise...’
Of course he’d seen red. How could he not? He’d always been hot-tempered (passionate, his mother used to say), and the recording had destroyed his entire world in a matter of seconds. Aside from the betrayal, the pain, he felt humiliated. He’d finally been vulnerable with someone, shared intimacy in ways he’d never experienced with another person – only to find out it was all a lie. A trick. A joke. It affirmed his biggest fear – that he had been correct to build those walls, to protect himself from anyone who would use his feelings against him. Love could be exploited as a weakness, and he’d turned up to the fight unarmed.
In his mind, he’d not thrown you out – not sweet, beautiful you. Not you who held him close in your sleep and nuzzled into his chest, not you who traced his scars with her fingers and encouraged him to take off his prosthetic when you were intimate if he wished to. Not you, who stayed up late on his birthday just to present him with a homemade cake when he came home after an exhausting meeting – insisting he blew out the candles. Did she ever even exist? He’d always joked you were too good to be true. Now he’d accidentally manifested that into reality.
No. He’d thrown out her. The woman who had been gathering intel on him since the moment the two of you had met. The woman who exchanged kisses for information. The woman who had laughed about all of this as she gleefully ratted on him, delighting in her prowess over the foolish, lovesick mob boss she’d so easily toppled. The woman who’d callously worn the mask of someone who loved him. She was thrown out of his house, out of his embrace.
Unfortunately, the two versions of you were one and the same.
But at least he knew better, now. He’d go back to casual sex and pretty girls hanging off his arm. Easy. Fun. Uncomplicated. The walls would go back up and they wouldn’t come down again. Deep down he’d always known that men like him weren’t meant to be loved, that they weren’t worthy of genuine affection. Not all voids could be filled. People like you, or at least who he thought you were, were not for him. They deserved better. You’d always deserved better. He’d had a brief taste of happiness, but that was all he deserved. The universe would continue to punish him for his many bad deeds.
The only thing left to do was finally go to bed, but a solemn knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. He could tell it was Steve.
“Steve?” he called, checking his watch. It was late, he’d assumed his second in command had already gone home.
Steve entered looking sullen. He was tensely holding his phone, and someone appeared to be on FaceTime with him. He cautiously extended it to his long-time friend.
“I’m sorry, Buck”, he said gravely.
“Steve..what?” Bucky asked as he gingerly took the phone from him. Sam looked back at him from the small screen, his solemn expression mirroring Steve’s.
“Bucky…I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly in that same tone, filling Bucky with a sinking dread.
Something was very wrong here.
“What is it?” He fired angrily at Sam, “just spit it out…”
Sam flipped the camera around to face what looked like a heap of old rags on the ground. He appeared to be in a parking garage, surrounded by nothing but concrete and darkness. It was hard to make anything out.
“What am I looking at here?” Bucky squinted at the camera as he tried to focus the image. Steve silently observed over his shoulder.
“Tell him what you just told us,” came the sound of Sam’s furious voice off-camera.
Bucky watched with confusion at the screen as Sam's boot suddenly kicked out at the heap, and the heap moved.
And then he clicked.
The ‘heap’ was a man.
The man groaned and cried out as Bucky realised the ‘rags’ were ripped, bloody clothes. He rolled over in obvious pain as Sam manoeuvred the camera to get a better look. As the man turned over, Bucky recognised his face.
It was one of his own.
“Rumlow?” Bucky asked with confusion.
Behind him, Steve moved closer and leaned forward to watch the screen. “Just watch, Buck” he said sombrely.
Rumlow looked up at the phone, blearily staring into the lens as he squinted at the phone light. His face was bruised and bloodied. Someone had given him a good going over.
“It was me. Alright? I did it,” Rumlow groaned.
“Did what?” Bucky sneered, still not entirely clear on where this was going – but already feeling his anger mounting.
Rumlow sighed heavily and Sam gave him another swift kick to the ribs to encourage him to continue.
He moaned out in pain and closed his eyes. “Aaargh. Alright…I did it! I did it okay! I made the recording!” he spat.
Bucky’s eyes darkened as comprehension of the situation unfolding began to take hold. His fist tightened around the phone screen. “Which recording…Rumlow?” He asked, his voice sinisterly calm.
Rumlow paused and spat a wad of blood onto the floor. Bucky recognised the look of fear building in the man’s eyes, he’d seen it many times before. Rumlow was stalling to delay the inevitable.
“Tell me!!” Bucky roared at the phone, holding it so tightly in his fist that the screen might crack.
He watched Rumlow wince as he turned away from the screen, dropping his head in defeat.
“Of your girl…talking to the police…it wasn’t her-uh-it wasn’t even real. I used AI. From…from recordings of her voice from old security footage…I’m sorry…I just-”
But Bucky was eerily composed. Rumlow took his silence as the cue to continue.
“I hacked into the security system and planted the clip of her getting in the car. And I stole her phone for a few hours when she was at the house with a friend, planting it at the meeting point then driving back with it. She didn’t even notice it was gone…I’m sorry I…”
Bucky cleared his throat. He tapped a single contemplative finger over his lips as his eyes glazed over.
“Sam?” he asked, his voice void of emotion.
Sam flipped the camera back to face himself. He looked grimly into the lens. “I’m sorry Buck…we had no idea…I caught him on the phone with the feds about the shipment – he thought I’d already left and-”
“Keep him warm,” Bucky interrupted, his voice cold like ice, “I have more urgent matters to attend to first, but I will deal with him”.
Sam merely nodded. Just as he cut the call, Bucky heard Rumlow wail and beg in the background. He’d be doing a lot more of that soon.
In a sudden fog of anger, Bucky pelted his phone hard against the wall. He roared with rage, lobbing his scotch glass at the window – shattering both. He flipped his desk, the chair, the bookcase – leaving a tsunami of destruction in his wake. Steve merely watched on, patiently. He knew Bucky needed to vent whichever way he could.
Eventually Bucky slowed, panting with exertion as he took a second to try and slick back his hair, now unkempt and messy from his outburst. He pulled back his shoulders as he attempted to regain his composure.
“We’ll find her, Buck”, Steve told him unwaveringly. “She can’t have gone far on foot. Then you can explain everything and apologise”.
Bucky shook his head as he ran his hands through his hair. Toeing the pile of debris that now cluttered his office floor he sighed heavily. “She told me she didn’t do it, Steve. And I didn’t believe her…”
“The recording was very convincing,” Steve clamped a sympathetic hand onto Bucky’s shoulder, “it sounded just like her – and had all of us fooled. Not to mention the phone location evidence…the CCTV of her leaving…before I came up here, Sam told me that this AI is brand new tech, far more advanced and convincing than what the masses have access to…”
Bucky bleakly shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. She’s my girlfriend and I’m supposed to trust her. Believe her. When I heard her voice on that recording I just…”, he trailed off sadly, “…it tapped into my worst fears…”
Steve nodded sagely. “Let’s just find her first, and you can talk to her. And then we can deal with Rumlow”.
Bucky grimaced, “I knew he was a risk to take on…with our shared history in HYDRA’s organisation…but I never thought…”
“Let’s just find her for now,” Steve repeated, always calm in a crisis. He pulled out his phone, making calls to various members of their group, sending out texts and kicking off various communication chains. In mere minutes, they’d have entire squads of their men scouring the area with a fine-tooth comb.
Bucky stood amongst the wreckage – the room’s physical ruins a glaring reminder that this wasn’t the only mess he’d made tonight. He pulled his own phone from his jacket pocket, opening his photo album as the pings and buzzes from Steve’s device filled the room. He flicked through the pictures of you: your face cheesily grinning at the camera, your lips sweetly planted on his cheek, a candid shot of you cooking in the kitchen – caught off-guard, your mouth a small ‘o’ of surprise. You’d asked him to delete it as you thought you looked dumb, but he insisted he keep as he like the way your eyes sparkled in it. It was one of his favourites. Looking at the pictures helped him calm down, his breath evening as he remembered what was important here. He ran a finger over the image of your face, “I’m sorry, doll” he whispered, “I promise I’ll do anything I can to fix this…”
A couple of miles away, you slept deeply in the tear-stained hotel sheets – completely unaware of the organised efforts to track you down. You didn’t dream, you didn’t stir, you just slept - grateful to give yourself over to oblivion.
💔
There had only been a few places you could have gone on foot.
Bucky’s men had worked quickly despite the late hour. The local police force, already firmly in Bucky’s pocket, loaned him a few law enforcement bodies to assist with the search, no questions asked – as was standard. Sheriff Bodecker always played ball. They collected the CCTV from local businesses, doorbell cam footage from local residents (who weren’t particularly happy to be woken to do so, but didn’t have much choice), swept the area on foot and in vehicles. It was faintly possible you had hitchhiked and thumbed a ride into the city, but Bucky knew this wasn’t likely, so they put that option on the backburner – although it hadn’t been entirely ruled out.
The gas station staff hadn’t seen you, but their CCTV did catch a blurred figure passing in the road opposite the camera. A faint outline of your route started to emerge as the puzzle pieces came together. Eventually, Bucky was sent the security footage of you checking into the Holiday Inn. His heart pulled as he watched you looking lost at the reception desk – your eyes round like saucers as you produced crumpled dollar bills, head turning left to right as you surveyed your drab surroundings. He could only imagine how lost you must’ve felt, how hurt and betrayed. Exiled by the man you loved, you trusted, and having to hunker down in a shitty roadside hotel. Part of him was impressed by your ability to pick yourself up and keep going even in the toughest circumstances – it was one of the many reasons he loved you. But mainly, he was ashamed. Ashamed that he’d pushed you to this, that he’d failed you in so many ways.
Bucky inhaled deeply as he closed the hotel clip on his phone, nodding to his driver and stepping into the dark SUV.
I’m on my way, doll.
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TOO LOST IN YOU - part VIII
Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc
Warnings: SMUT AND I MEAN FILTH, language
Wordcount: 6K
A/N: okay got this done and was hugely motivated by the way i was crashing out all day yesterday after waking up to that trippin out tiktok... anyway this is literally pure smut lol but i hope you enjoy it! this series is beginning to come to an end, this is the second to last part! i'm so sad to let palerie go :(( i love them to death! i think there'll be one more part and an epilogue eventually ANYWAYS go read you freaks! once again send me your thoughts!! smoochies x
-
Relief is all I feel when Paige kisses me back, my legs wiggling in the air as our lips move together. The familiar taste of the blonde’s lips is beyond comforting, every cell in my body wanting more. It felt liberating to finally admit what my subconscious had known all along. I love her badly.
Carefully I’m placed back onto the ground, Paige’s forehead resting against mine as we pull our lips apart hesitantly, both of us breathing heavy. Before I can speak Paige opens her mouth.
“You wanna go for a drive? Let’s go for a drive.”
And so we walk to the blonde’s Jeep, the tension between us palpable. Until now it had been like some sort of shared secret of ours. Now, finally addressed out loud it somehow made the tension stronger.
Both our chests are heaving as we sit silently in Paige’s car. Her hands work the wheel smoothly, hand coming over to rest on the back of my seat as she backs out, heading out of the parking lot I watch her closely, noticing the bags under her eyes. She must not have been sleeping enough.
“Where are we going?” I ask carefully as we enter the highway, Paige handing me her phone to set up some music - strange because the Paige I knew would never let anyone else pick the music in her car, let alone let me touch her phone. I suppose a lot would change now. I pick one of her playlists randomly, full of R&B.
“I wanna show you something,” the blonde murmurs, her eyes focused on the road. For a second I hesitate, doubt taking over in my head. Maybe I shouldn’t have said “I love you” earlier, perhaps it was a bit much, a mistake. But like reading my mind, Paige’s free hand grabs mine and brings it to her lips, kissing it. Nope, definitely wasn’t a mistake.
With soft beats playing in the background we sit in silence, both of us taking our time to process everything between us. Finally we pull up to a field, full of trees showing signs of foliating, reminding us of the approaching summer ahead. The small parking lot is desolate on a Wednesday night. The view is beautiful as the car faces the trees and the hilly plains - still, I’m not sure why we were here.
“It’s really pretty in the fall,” Paige says, staring out the window. “The leaves get all red and orange.” I nod, still slightly confused why she brought me here.
“When I first came to Storrs me and my dad stopped here and just sat for like an hour not even talking before he dropped me off,” the blonde continues, her voice gentle. “Ion think either of us was ready to say bye so we just sat here.”
I listen carefully, giving her space to talk.
“Since then when I feel overwhelmed or just need some distance I come here.”
I nod, “It’s really pretty.”
Paige nods too, “Yeah.”
Sighing, she turns her head to me, our eyes meeting. The way she’s fiddling with her hands tells me she’s nervous.
“I’m scared,” Paige says, merely whispering. I feel a pang of empathy take over me, I wish there was a way for me to take all that away, to carry it for the both of us.
“Me too,” I admit.
The blonde shakes her head though, lightly taking my hands into hers, thumbs brushing over my skin.
“You don’t get it Val, there’s just no way I won’t disappoint you all the time. Basketball takes so much of my time, it just has to be my priority. It’s like no matter what I do I disappoint you or I disappoint everyone else, coach, my team, my dad…”
She’s rambling now, her walls coming down, completely open for me. It was entirely new. Yet seeing her like this made it all clock in my head - why she was the way she was. I never considered her behaviour to have any other motive than being an asshole.
“Paige,” I stop her. “I know the game’s your life. It comes first, always. I’ve always got that, none of that’s gonna change. I know it’s your world.”
The blonde rubs her own face, working hard to push through the uncomfortable vulnerability of her emotions.
“No ‘s not just that, I dunno if that’s what I want. Ion wanna live life like that, Ion want you to come second,” Paige sighs, rubbing her jaw. Oh.
“Then we’ll make space for both,” I comfort her, my thumbs rubbing her hands soothingly.
Paige sighs, clearly worried. “But what if that makes me like… mediocre, what if the reason I’ve been great is because I made the game my whole life?”
I shake my head. “You’ve been great because you, Paige, are great. That’s not gonna change,” I kiss both her hands, her skin cold against my lips. “You’re the best in the country, remember?”
She grins weakly, blue eyes watching me closely. “You really think so?” She asks, and I’m shocked by the vulnerability of her voice, something completely new to me.
“I know so Paige,” I nod, letting go of her hands. She looks at me for a while, eyes roaming my face. She looks almost ethereal in the warm light of the car, contrasting with the darkness outside.
“I talked to Justine,” she admits.
“I know you did, she told me.”
“Oh.”
A silence falls between us as Paige looks out the window into the dark field, fidgeting with the strings of her sweatpants.
“She’s cool, Ion wanna come between you guys if you’re happy, she’s good for you and-”
“Paige?” I interrupt, my voice careful.
She turns to look at me.
“It’s over with her. For good,” I say, our eyes meeting. There’s a flicker of surprise in Paige’s gaze as she takes in my words. I guess it was my turn to be vulnerable.
“Look, I never liked her the way she deserves. I just couldn’t be with anyone, my mind’s just too stuck on you. Like I can’t think of anyone else, and I know hearing that kinda thing makes you anxious but I just need to be honest-”
“It doesn’t make me anxious Val,” Paige says, stopping my rambling. “Shit, Val, I feel like that too. And then seeing you with Justine, it drove me fucking crazy…”
She leans her head back, resting it against the seat, her eyes low and jaw sharp as she thought. “I’ve been such a dick Val, I dunno how you can ever forgive me,” she sighs, a hint of desperation in her voice. I can feel my heartbeat rising as I take in the blonde’s words. It was everything I had been waiting to hear from her.
Her blue eyes flicker to mine, brows furrowing the slightest bit. “I’m sorry Valerie, for everything,” she says, and I can tell she means it.
I feel my lower lip trembling out of control, my eyes getting wet as I try and blink the tears away. I had waited to hear those words this whole time, to hear her mean it. The second a tear rolls down my cheek Paige wipes it away and reclines her seat, making space for me.
“C’mere, please,” she pleads. I climb my way over to her, sitting on her right thigh and wrapping my arms around her neck, letting her hold me across her lap, her legs spread wide in her grey Nike sweats to make me more comfortable .
It felt euphoric having her this close, for all this pent up emotion from the past 6 months to release. The blonde’s hand comes to brush through my long hair as she brings my head to rest on her shoulder, pressing her cheek against the top of my head.
“Lemme show you I can do better, I promise I’ll work so damn hard to show you Val,” she whispers, hungry for my forgiveness. Her lips press against the top of my head, her breath hot against my scalp. “I’mma crawl and get on my knees if you want me to, I’ll do anything you want Val just gimme a chance.”
I swear I had never felt so much affection for another person, for the girl holding me when I raise my head to see the desperation in her eyes, the way she was biting down on her plump bottom lip. Bringing my hand to her cheek I lean in and kiss her. Softly, slowly, my lips feeling for every inch of hers, telling her without any words what she needed to hear. That I forgive her.
Paige exhales harshly, her strong hand coming to hold the back of my head as she pulls me closer, both of us fighting the whimpers we wanted to let out. Those two weeks apart had been like drowning. Only now I became aware of the overwhelming homesickness that had been looming over me that time apart. Finally having her lips on mine, smelling the familiar scent of her deodorant and feeling the warmth of her skin, I could feel the homesickness wash away slowly. There was no need for it anymore. I was home.
“I love this song,” Paige whispers against my lips, her nose nuzzling mine. My heart flutters when I hear the first beats to my favourite song in the world - The blonde knew this of course, I had introduced the song to her in the first place. Now it had made itself into Paige’s playlists, every lyric reminding her of me. “Me too,” I answer.
“You look into my eyes, I go out of my mind
I can't see anything 'coz this love got me blind
I can't help myself, I can't break the spell”
“Valerie?” Paige asks, her voice deep and soft in the same way it was in the mornings, when the first beams of sunlight woke her up and she was holding me tight, whispering into my ear.
“Mhm?”
“Will you be my girlfriend?” Her voice is shaky, unsure - not because of what she’s saying but because of what I might answer. My heart races and I can’t fight the smile that spreads onto my face, a satisfied hum escaping my lips.
“Yeah,” I murmur, nuzzling my nose against Paige’s again.
The blonde pulls me into a kiss, both of us smiling making our teeth clank together but it only makes us smile more. I open my eyes to look at her as we both giggle together, my cheeks turning rosy.
“That got me lil nervous not gonna lie,” Paige smiles and pulls me into another kiss, this one wasn’t cute and giggly though - it was slow, serious, meaningful. Suddenly my body reacts, breath hitching in my throat as the blonde’s hand tenderly caresses up and down my thigh. I felt like I’d been starved, everything in my body aching for her.
“And my knees are weak
And my mouth can't speak
Fell to far this time”
I shift on her lap to straddle her, Paige’s breathing growing heavy between us two as we kept up with the unhurried kisses, her hand on my thigh slowly sneaking upwards, finally stopping on my ass, gently fondling. Every movement is soft, purposeful. Paige leaning back on the seat unzips her grey Nike hoodie, taking it off as I pepper her jaw with kisses, my lips gently working to elicit hums and deep exhales from the girl.
“Baby, I'm too lost in you
Caught in you
Lost in everything about you
So deep I can't sleep, I can't think”
Breathing heavy, the blonde now in a white tee reclines the seat all the way down, pulling me on top of her, big hands on my ass growing needier, gripping harder. The heat between my legs makes me whimper into her mouth, Paige’s eyes squeezing shut in response. Our tongues finally meet, and it quickly gets sloppy, my lips glossy with saliva as the blonde’s hand tilts my head by my jaw, trying to get more of me, impossibly so.
Fingers brushing through my hair Paige gently tucks my head to the side, her lips kissing from my jaw to my neck, her warm tongue leaving a wet trail from my shoulder to my ear, sucking on my earlobe. I let out a soft moan, feeling chills run down my spine, all the way to my aching core.
“I just think about the things you do
I'm just too lost in you”
“I need you Valerie,” Paige murmurs into my ear, her voice desperate and needy immediately making me wetter. I can only nod, trying hard to form the words.
“I need you too Paige.”
The blonde curses into my ear, pulling down her sweats, breathing so heavy her mouth is wide open, hips bucking towards me. Pulling back I see her blue eyes almost completely dark with lust as she gazes up at me, brows furrowed in a needy frown..
“Well, you whisper to me
And I shiver inside
You undo me and move me in ways undefined
And you're all I see
And you're all I need
Help me baby, help me now”
The look on her face is enough to leave me moaning, my core on fire now, aching. Without looking away from my eyes, Paige’s hands come to my white sweats, swiftly pulling them off, leaving me in a white baby tee and black panties - completely soaked from how badly my body was crying out for her.
Never breaking eye contact, the blonde grabs my wrist and pulls it to her clothed core, letting out a guttural groan when my fingertips press into the wet fabric of her boxers, rubbing against her clit.
“Oh, P,” I whimper, my lips parting when she raises her muscular thigh enough for it to meet my cunt, hand gripping my hips, gently guiding me to grind against her.
“Baby,” Paige moans breathily, her blue eyes locked in mine as longing whimpers fill the car, only swallowed by the song in the background.
“'Cause I'm slippin' away
Like the sand to the tide
Flowing into your arms, falling into your eyes”
“Missed you so much baby,” the blonde whimpers, licking her lips as I let out a desperate whine, the friction of her thigh not quite enough.
“Me too baby,” I moan, letting Paige’s hands move my hips against her, pressing my hand against her cunt harder, rubbing in circles. The wetness between my legs was getting overwhelming, making me lightheaded - desperate for release.
Paige takes note, hearing the need in my moans. Her fingertips pull my thong down my legs, groaning when she feels my wet cunt press back onto her bare thigh, flexing her muscles there to provide more pressure on my clit.
“Oh god,” I let out shakily, jaw falling slack. Paige’s hand comes up to caress my cheek, shaking her head to herself.
“You’re so beautiful Val,” she murmurs, pulling me down into a needy kiss, swallowing all my moans as I grind my wet cunt against her warm, muscular thigh, her fingertips digging into my hips.
“If you get too near I might disappear
I might lose my mind”
Holding my hips, Paige flips us over, handling me with care, my back against the seat now and legs pried wide open by her strong hands.
“Shit,” she whispers, watching the way my skin is glistening with wetness, pulling her own boxers down hastily, tongue darting out to wet her lips. I can’t look away from her face, the way her cheeks have gone red, her eyelids are heavy, dark lashes fluttering as she lifts one of my legs over her shoulder.
Her hands grip my hips and pull me down on the seat forcefully, our cores slotting together making me gasp, hands desperately gripping the seat underneath me.
“Paige,” I moan, my eyes fluttering shut as her hips press into mine, a shaky exhale escaping her lips.
“Oh fuck,” Paige breathes, hands slowly rising up my sides to lift my shirt enough to reveal my bare breasts. The blonde seems grateful I hadn’t bothered to wear a bra today.
I feel overwhelmed when Paige’s hips start rolling into mine, our wet cunts grinding into each other harshly. As she groans, her clit angles against mine just right to make my back arch and eyes roll back.
“Look at me mama,” she pleads, hand coming to hold my cheek. My eyes flutter open and I see the blonde hovering over me, strands falling out of her bun and silver chains dangling over my face, her expression filled with ecstasy - the sight is almost enough to get me to come right there and then.
From the blonde’s face I can tell she feels the same, her movement picking up speed, the sounds of our dripping cunts rubbing together filling the car. I feel like I’m falling apart, every cell in my body on fire. Ever so observant, Paige’s fingers slide into mine, the affection behind the gesture making me lightheaded.
“I'm going crazy with love for you baby
I can't eat and I can't sleep”
I’m overcome with the desire to feel the weight of her lips, hands suddenly pulling Paige down into a sloppy slow kiss, taking turns moaning into each other’s mouths. I was holding my whole world in my hands, and that enough was making me throb, my climax building incredibly fast.
“I'm going down like a stone in the sea
No-one can rescue me”
Our noses nuzzling against one another, Paige is panting loudly, her movements beginning to turn sloppy and frantic.
“I love you,” she moans into my mouth, making me mewl in response, the emotions stirring within me were overwhelming and so incredibly real I could’ve cried. I love her, she loves me, Paige, Paige, Paige - that’s all I could think of.
“I love you,” I cry out, my legs trembling now. The blonde on top of me grabs my thigh, holding me still and open for her as her hips roll faster, even more wildly, shaking her head to herself, doing everything to keep going and coax me to the edge.
“I fucking love you Val,” she whimpers again, the words like an oath as I feel the coil in my stomach tighten, on the verge of snapping. Hearing her words makes a moan spill from my lips but she swallows it, pressing her lips onto mine.
“Baby, you’re gonna make me come,” I murmur against her lips, our noses pressed together as her clit brushes against mine, my eyes rolling back into my head. Paige’s eyes don’t close though, fighting to keep her gaze on me.
“Shit, I can’t wait I gotta come ma,” she whimpers, both hands gripping my hips now keeping me still. The blonde’s whole body’s shaking on top of me, muscles tired from the strain.
“Paige,” I whimper, feeling her other hand quickly return to mine to hold it.
“I got you baby, come with me.”
That’s enough to finally make the coil snap, my whole body trembling beneath the blonde in pleasure. I’m cocooned in her existence, her scent filling my nostrils, moans filling my ears, body weight on me as she kisses my open mouth desperately, our cunts grinding together in a haze as Paige reaches her orgasm.
“Oh, fuck Valerie,” she whines into my mouth, our noses pressed tight together as she squeezes my hand, waves of pleasure taking over our bodies. Everything was about her, the woman I loved on top of me.
There’s a sound of heavy breathing between us. I feel Paige’s nose nuzzle into mine softly, lips pressing a tender kiss on mine - one that tells me everything I needed to know. She loves me.
“I love you,” I whisper, still holding her hand as I flutter my eyelids open and I’m met with those bright blue eyes.
“I love you so much,” she whispers back, kissing my forehead. My chest feels warm, swelling with affection towards the blonde on top of me.
“Valerie?”
I nod.
“I’m gonna take you home now,” she murmurs, peppering gentle kisses along my face. “And you’re gonna keep coming for me. Until you know how damn much I love you.”
-
Thank the Lord her roommates aren’t home is all I think of when I hear the mewl that Valerie lets out, hips squirming but I’m pinning them down as I lap her up, face buried into that perfect pussy I wanted to eat for the rest of my life if she let me.
“No no no, P-” she whines, overstimulated but I keep going even more hungry now, loving the sounds coming out of her. If I had kept count right this was round 4 of the night, but I couldn’t stop. I needed Valerie to know how much I loved her, because I did. Every cell in my body loved her, worshipped her, would walk through fire for her.
“Baby please one more,” I whimper into her pussy, my face covered in her at this point, all of my hair falling out of the bun I wore earlier. The brunette is on her back, gripping my hair tight. She was pulling my face closer pretty hard for someone trying to get me to stop - seems like I knew what she needed better than she did.
“Too much,” Valerie cries, gasping as her body writhes beneath me. I pin her hips down harder, pressing my tongue flat against her and shaking my head. She looks so fucking gorgeous like that, sweat dripping down her neck, hair sticking to her face and back arched, perfect face scrunched up in pleasure.
“I love you baby,” I coo, grabbing hold of her hand gripping the sheets, intertwining my fingers with hers. I squeeze, grounding her. This had been our routine all night - one of us too overstimulated and the other reminding why we were doing this. Because we were utterly, completely in love with each other.
My tongue rolls over her clit making the girl’s legs shake around my head and suddenly she’s coming again, my mouth working hard to bring her over the edge.
“I love you,” Valerie moans as she comes. I had quickly come to the realisation that it was my favourite sound in the entire world.
“Perfect girl,” I murmur, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and sliding back up to crash next to the trembling girl.
“You’re tryna kill me huh?” Valerie asks, her voice shaking as she pulls a blanket over her naked body. Grinning, I pull the brunette against my side, kissing her temple.
“Just tryna love you mama,” I say, sniffing the familiar scent of coconut on her hair. My words make her giggle and fuck, it melts my heart. Immediately I kiss her temple again. I felt as if my heart could burst out of mere love. I had never felt anything close to this, there was no such euphoria in the world than loving Valerie - my Valerie.
Her big brown eyes turn to look at me, and I can’t fight the sigh that escapes my lips. My gaze roams her face, taking in each detail. The round cheeks, pouty full lips, small nose and those damn doe eyes that drove me insane. She was easily the most beautiful girl I had ever laid my eyes on. I would make this right, do anything to keep her in my life. No more fucking around, this was it.
Loving her came naturally, almost accidentally. From that first time I kissed her after making her come, to all the rules I broke for her since, the girls I blocked and left behind, it was so shockingly easy. The way I wasn’t panicking right now - the way my body and mind felt completely at peace holding the brunette girl in my arms. Holding my whole world.
“You’re so beautiful,” Valerie whispers, her eyes watching over my features. My cheeks flush pink, a smile growing on my face.
“Nothing compared to you,” I respond, my hand brushing through her golden brown hair. “But Val…?” I carefully ask, making her brows furrow in confusion.
“Y-yeah?” She carefully asks as I take a deep breath.
“I need to take you on a date. A real one, okay?”
Suddenly she hits me over my arm - not hard but enough to sting.
“Hey!” I yelp, rubbing the skin.
“Dude! You freaked me out!” She yells, sitting up on the bed.
“What?? How????”
Valerie rolls her eyes, looking at me mad. “The way you said it, what the hell is wrong with you!”
She pouts her lower lip and I swear it’s so cute it nearly makes me cry. She really had me wrapped around her little finger without a clue in the world.
Grinning, I poke her soft cheek, watching her. “Sorry I worded that bad as hell.”
“I thought you were gonna tell me something bad,” Valerie murmurs, her face changing from mock anger to real concern. I sit up on the bed, confused.
“Like I dunno, I thought you were gonna say you don’t wanna be with me or don’t actually love me or something.”
I’m speechless, my heart breaking into a million pieces. I had fucked her over even worse than I realised if she felt like I was able to do that. I could never, ever say any of those words. I wanna punch my previous self, reflecting on what an asshole I had been towards the girl I loved.
“Baby… You don’t have to worry ‘bout that trust,” I murmur and place a careful hand on her arm. I try to chase her gaze but she looks everywhere but my eyes.
“How can I be sure? What if you change your mind?”
I pull her into a tight embrace, smoothing over her hair. It feels impossible for me to think I’d ever change my mind about her. It was as if the feelings I’d pushed aside all these months all came to me at once now that I allowed them. I didn’t know what the future might hold for me, for us - hell, I was about to leave for the league soon, my entire life was bound to change. But I was hellbent on figuring out a way for this to work. Because all of a sudden it was impossible to even imagine a life without the brunette in my arms - craziest part of all was that the idea of spending eternity with her didn’t scare me.
“Not about this, not about you Val,” I tell her, my naked body holding her, bare skin touching. “You got no idea what kinda power you got over me,” I admit, pressing a kiss into Valerie’s hair. There was no going back for me anymore.
The brunette nods, eyeing my face for any hint of dishonesty - there was none.
“C’mere,” I murmur, leaning against the headboard of the bed and making space for her between my legs. As she’s about to straddle me I shake my head, signalling with my hand for her to flip around.
“Other way, c’mon.”
“Paige, what-”
“Just trust me baby.”
The brunette obedient as ever sits between my legs, her back pressing to my chest as I wrap my hands around her petite body from behind. The reflection of us in the mirror, the way my body is enveloping her in my arms makes a warmth spread all over me. I watch over Valerie’s naked figure, goosebumps rising on her skin as I drag my other hand over her breast, thumb gently brushing against the hard nipple. The girl in my arms lets out a shaky breath, face completely flushed in the mirror.
“Paige… you said that was the last one earlier,” she whispers, voice shaking slightly as my eyes are locked onto her reflection, watchful for every reaction as my hands caress her skin from behind. Taking my time to run them along her arms, the skin of her sides, up her stomach to her breasts. I could’ve kept going all day, my arousal growing with each second.
“One more,” I answer back, voice merely audible as my fingertips reach to her thighs, gently fondling the skin there. “Gotta get it in your head how much I love you ma.”
The brunette’s cheeks burn hotter, her eyes fluttering shut as I pry her legs open with careful hands, the wetness between her legs making her glisten in the mirror. I was drunk off her, my eyes unable to look anywhere else but her dripping cunt.
“Look,” I say, my voice soft but authoritative enough for Valerie to know that it’s not a request. Her big brown eyes open, meeting mine in the mirror. I shake my head.
“Nuh uh, not at me, at yourself mama,” I murmur hoarsely, my right hand inching up her inner thigh, closing in on where she was visibly throbbing already. God that pussy really was perfect.
“Paige,” Valerie whines and I immediately shush her, pressing a kiss on her shoulder from behind her.
“I know I know I got you,” I coo, slowly bringing my fingertips to her swollen, red clit from the way it’d been manhandled all night. A light brush is enough to get the brunette trembling, watching the way my fingers move in a slow, sloppy circle against her folds.
“So fucking pretty,” I praise, her wetness covering my hand. “It’s all mine, right?”
“Mhm,” she whines, hips squirming as I speed up a little, the wet sounds caused by my movements taking over the room once more.
“Tell me,” I whimper, kissing along her shoulder. “Tell me this pussy’s all mine.”
Valerie nods, nearly closing her legs on me but my other hand is quick to grab her thigh, prying them open again.
“It’s all yours,” she moans, throwing her head back to rest on my shoulder. I can’t look away from the way she looks in the mirror, muscles contracting, body squirming, neck exposed and tits perked up all for me.
“I’m yours Paige.”
Her words make me moan out loud, unable to stop myself as I suddenly press two of my long fingers inside her, causing enough of a stretch to make her gasp.
“Fuck baby you’re all mine,” I groan, curling my fingers upwards from behind her, eyes locked onto the way her cunt is swallowing me up, gushing around me.
“Don’t stop that,” she whimpers desperately, legs trembling as I pick up my movements, fingertips pressing against the spongy tissue inside her. I could feel my own wetness pooling between my legs from the way she was falling apart for me.
My free hand grabs Valerie’s jaw, returning her face to view the mirror. “See that? So fucking pretty,” I groan, making her open her eyes. She watches herself, blushing from seeing the mess I’d made of her. “Need you to keep watching yourself baby,” I pant, letting go and reaching for the vibrator next to me. Valerie obeys, eyes locking onto my fingers pumping in and out of her furiously, the squelching sound overwhelming the room.
Sneaking my other hand around her waist, the buzzing of the toy surprises her but it’s the way I press it against her clit that gets her to start falling to pieces. The brunette’s eyes roll into her head, making me pull the vibrator off her. There was no way she was coming without seeing how fucking incredible she looked rolling off the edge.
“Don’t be stupid baby, watch,” I command, adding a third finger to really make her feel the stretch.
“No I can’t, I can’t,” Valerie moans, writhing in my arms and gasping for air.
“Watch.”
My tone is dominant, so much so that it makes Valerie’s eyes pop open and stare into the mirror as I return the blue wand to press against her clit. Immediately she starts gushing all over me, and I’m grateful for the towel we’d placed under us earlier.
“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” I coo into her ear, my cheek pressing against her head, feeling her pussy throbbing desperately around my fingers. It felt so good to call her mine, and to know it was true. No one else’s, my Valerie.
“Mmmhm, Paige I can’t,” she mewls, struggling badly to keep her eyes open - trying so hard to obey. Just the thought is nearly enough to make me come untouched.
“But you’re doing so good for me baby, need you to see how fucking pretty you look coming for me,” I praise, turning up the toy even higher, my legs wrapping around Valerie’s to keep them spread open.
“Oh fuck,” she writhes, gasping for air as my fingers pump even faster, filling her tight cunt. I could tell she was close, her fingers digging into my forearm.
“C’mon, so fucking pretty, my girl,” I murmur, staring at her in the mirror unsure where to look - her perfect face scrunched up in pleasure, tits sitting pretty on her body or the soaking cunt making even more of a mess on my fingers.
“P- I think I’m gonna-” she’s gasping, unable to finish her sentence.
“Watch your face baby, do it for me,” I moan, feeling the way she was squeezing my fingers which only spurs me on.
“Paige!” She cries out as the pleasure reaches its peak, her body squirming and eyes locked onto her reflection as she comes undone, the vibrator on her clit making her gush all over my fingers which are pounding into her relentlessly. I let out a moan, feeling the way she’s throbbing around me. I could never get tired of this.
She comes down quickly, pushing my hands away from her. I wanna press the toy against her again, hell even slide it inside her - but I can tell she’s completely, utterly fucked out. Turning off the toy I slip my fingers out, pressing gentle kisses and nibbles on her shoulder, now covered in red marks all done by me, marking what was mine.
“Okay, no more,” Valerie pants, wiping her sweaty forehead as she crashes back against me. I grin proudly, wiggling downwards so we’re lying down, the brunette turning in my arms so her front is pressed upon mine.
“You got it ma’am,” I smirk and kiss her forehead, arms wrapping around her tightly. She presses her head on my chest, humming contently.
“So about that date… Lemme take you out this weekend,” I murmur against her hair. Valerie chuckles softly and moves her wide eyes to mine.
“On an actual date?” She asks excitedly, and I nod unable to fight the smile growing on my face.
“It’s about time, don’t you think ma?” I ask, brushing the brunette strands of hair sticking to her forehead. Only now I notice how exhausted my body is, muscles strained and eyes nearly shutting from the lack of sleep I’d been getting.
“Fuck yeah it is,” Valerie hums, noticing the way I was nearly nodding of. “Are you sleeping here?”
I scoff loudly. “Course I am, watchu mean?”
“Well I dunno, you’ve never slept here before!” She says, voice rising defensively. She’s right though, I guess it wasn’t as obvious to her as it was for me.
I reach for the brunette’s chin and pull her into a tender kiss, nose nuzzling against hers.
“I wanna stay,” I say against her soft lips. “But we should shower first because you’re a mess.”
Valerie scoffs in mock offense, looking down at me.
“And whose fault is that?” She giggles that bright, perfect giggle that I adore, making me giggle too.
“All mine,” I say proudly, kissing her. She’s all mine now.
-
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#too lost in you#lilas writing#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers x female oc#wnba x oc#Spotify
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press four for more options. | part four.
( Read on AO3 )
Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), sex work, pet names, alcohol, mentions of drugs, jokes about death Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics
part three. / return to part one. | masterlist
Night comes around.
You do not call.
In fact, you don't call the Scout Services Hotline a single time that whole weekend.
As you scroll mindlessly through social media in your bed, fluttering between apps without retaining a single word or meme, your cell phone weighs heavily in your hand.
Don't call.
Just don't call.
It isn't like you're devoid of things to do.
Going out is an option.
Being around people may help your mood — but you don’t feel like unearthing from your snuggie poncho.
Putting on a movie can be a great distraction — but you know your attention span would barely last through the opening credits.
It was him.
Right there.
Right in front of you.
Levi from Scout Services, alive and in the flesh, holding your phone.
No amount of mental gymnastics can make you doubt otherwise.
He has a voice like no other; one that haunts your day dreams and soothes your nightmares, one that brings this sudden urge to do better for yourself—
Ironically, to be independent and strong on your own.
Which, actually, really fucking sucks now that you’re stuck with the decision to totally disappear from the gym, too.
(Kind of thwarts the whole ‘new me’ chest-puffing you’d started Friday with.)
So you make a final decision:
You still have to go to the gym Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.
Even if you say nothing, keep to yourself, remain a shadow, you have to go.
(There’s a fragile line drawn in the sands of reality. You can toe the edge, but you refuse to. This is his livelihood. You’re not delusional to believe you’re a main character exception.)
Coincidentally, Levi goes every day, too.
Your stomach flip-flops with the unsettling realization that your perch on a treadmill actually gives you a perfect vantage point to watch him as he sets his station up every morning.
Meticulously he sets towels down to place his shaker bottle and water thermos down, as if worried the ground hadn’t been cleaned overnight.
He even takes the disinfectant cloths and cleans every dumbbell he lines up neatly before starting his workout.
The dark-haired man truly is less-than-average in height, which isn’t a turn-off to you in the slightest, but his arms — his goddamn arms.
Levi wasn’t kidding when he told you that he could pick you up.
He could probably pick two of you up, one arm each.
They’re so toned, his forearms veiny from morning dehydration.
Training vigorously in his own world, not once does he notice that you’re the bumbling idiot that’s tripped on the treadmill (see: a few times) from dissociating.
Hell, he hasn’t a single fucking clue that you’re close enough to yell across the room to him.
Would he know?
That you’re Scarlet.
His, in some made-up world.
(Does your voice stand out in a sea of lonely people?)
The cleaning ritual extends to his cooldown, where he properly cleans each piece of equipment before nestling it back in its place.
Levi sits on his phone for a second, dropping down to a bench to scroll — text messages.
(Damn it, have you really resorted to minor stalking?)
As soon as he stands, though, you drop your chin to watch your sneakers rhythmically pass one another on the treadmill belt.
He passes like a ghost, evaporating into the men’s locker room without a word.
This is torture.
You miss him.
But you still refuse to call.
Can't — because in another world you may be his, but in this world, he is not yours.
.
.
— —
.
.
Tuesday night rolls around and you decide you hate life.
Annie, Eren, Reiner, and Mikasa are already there by the time you walk into the downtown hotspot.
The boys as well as Mikasa are still in their suit attire from work, their ties loosened at their necks. Annie’s in a hoodie and jeans, clearly much more interested in having a comfortable evening.
If the emptied shot glasses are any indicator of the plans for this evening, then you steel yourself for one hell of a Wednesday.
You glide through the busy crowds of the bar towards the group.
Bodies upon bodies crowd this place — it’s never not a zoo at this hour, no matter the day. Saying excuse me would only waste breath.
A live band croons on the far end of the smoky bar, forcing everyone to talk ten decibels higher just to hear the conversation.
(Can’t you turn around and go home while you’re ahead?)
In the sea of people, a pair of emerald green eyes over by a cluster of tables in the right-hand corner catch your movement. They widen, recognizing your face, and a lopsided grin of surprise follows.
“Holy shit, she left her cave!” Eren yells, holding up a cheap beer in salute to your arrival.
(Thanks Jeager, you little fuck.)
You don’t hear what she says, but you can see Mikasa’s lips part in tandem with a sharp elbow jab straight to his ribs.
Eren instantly falters his salute, souring in pain.
“I know. Don’t be so shocked,” you state to your colleagues, leaning up against the circular high-top table. “Am I the last to show?”
“Nah, you’re right on time. Armin and Jean’re on their way,” Reiner grunts, holding onto a comically small cosmopolitan in his rather large hand. “Sasha’s on babysitting duty with Nicco.”
You look around the bar for any other familiar faces.
“And Connie?”
“Passed out,” Mikasa supplies. “Took edibles after work.”
“There’s no chance in hell anyone’s waking him,” Eren snorts. “Fucker’s toast.”
Reiner sighs. “For what it’s worth, Jean tried.”
“No, Armin tried,” Annie corrects, finally piping up. She holds something on the rocks — brandy? Whiskey? You can’t tell. “Jean just laughed and kept trying to draw shit on his face.”
“You didn’t see the Snapchat he sent?” Eren asks after a gulp of his beer.
You shake your head, knowing damn well you’ve avoided using your phone for the last several days.
Missed texts, abandoned tagged tweets, your streak in your mobile game ruined — anything so you wouldn’t be tempted to click that little number.
Damn it.
Enough wallowing.
“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you state, disengaging with the table. “Anyone need anything?”
From your peripheral, you see a familiar mop of blonde hair walking towards your group. At his side is a much taller man sliding through the crowd, navigating the shorter one to the tiny table you’ve commandeered from the masses.
Armin and Jean.
Reiner and Annie shake their heads.
“Nope, I’m solid.”
“Good here.”
“Eren’s got the next round of shots,” Mikasa flatly states. “You’re fine.”
“Ha, hell yeah!” Eren exclaims, before he settles into a confused pause of silence. His head whips to Mikasa, blinking twice. “Wait, what?”
You don’t stick around for that aftermath.
Squeezing back into the lion’s den of people, you try not to get hit with any too-full beverages or waving hands.
You manage to weave and duck, eventually finding a small empty corner at the edge of the bar.
Success.
You rush to claim it before someone else can, your forearm on the wooden surface.
Holding up two fingers to get the one of the three bartender’s attention, she nods once to acknowledge she sees you — she’ll get there eventually.
Two empty stools are available, so you scoot onto the one closest to the wall while waiting for your turn and drop your purse onto the other while you situate yourself.
It’ll likely take a while if the busyness of the staff has anything to say about it.
An hour.
All you need to do is last one whole hour.
Chat a bit, mingle a little so everyone at work doesn’t think you’re a total goddamn recluse, then you can go—
“Is this seat taken?”
A question sounding to your left breaks your train of thought.
The seat.
The one next to you, where your purse lay.
Way to go, dumbass.
You answer on autopilot, not thinking twice about it.
“Oh — shit, yeah. I mean, no! No it’s not. I’m sorry.”
As your torso turns to grab your purse off of the deep red stool, your eyes drop to make sure nothing spills out of it.
“Hold on, let me just move—”
Your chin lifts to find yourself staring eye to eye with Levi.
Wait.
Levi?!
His cheekbones look even sharper under the warm hue of the bar lights overhead, lips parted like he was interrupted in asking a question.
The whites of his eyes grow more prominent with every passing second, making the blue-gray color of them stand out in stark contrast to the black curtain of fringe falling against his temples.
The realization that you spoke — that he’s seen your face before — seems to be hitting him like a goddamn freight train.
Your blood runs cold as your own eyes round.
“...my stuff.”
Weakly you finish your thought, wishing for nothing but death right now.
Maybe a stranger, like a secret agent with wicked strength, will simply rush the bar and put you in a headlock and knock you out.
Maybe your drink will be poisoned.
You’re happy for anything so long as it’s swift.
Levi grunts in acknowledgement, slowly finding a spot on the empty stool beside yours.
Both of you swivel towards the bar, staring ahead.
Silence.
For what feels like hours, neither of you speak. The noise of the bar becomes overwhelming.
Somehow the surrounding voices feel amplified when you’ve lost your own.
It’s trapped between a thousand apologies and half a dozen explanations that sound worse than the one before it.
You need to get up.
Excuse yourself out.
Leave.
You won’t get your damn drink, but that’s fine so long as you’re not here.
“How’s your phone?”
Eventually Levi speaks, and you find yourself wishing he hadn’t.
The effect of his voice is even worse in person — so buttery smooth, the gravel much deeper in his chest now that there isn’t a phone receiver to dilute it.
“Not… damaged,” you reply cautiously.
“Good.”
Another stretch of silence passes, and you forget about ordering drinks altogether.
Your eyes drop to view his folded hands, how the veins protrude even when resting.
His fingers are slender, strong, and hate yourself for yearning.
You have to apologize.
This is crossing a line.
You need to—
“So—”
“I’m canceling my subscription.”
You blurt a fraction later than Levi, proclaiming your innocence before he can ever condemn it.
When you meet his steely eyes, they squint with curiosity.
From the crown of your head to your chin, he assesses in a serpentine pattern before eventually finding your eyes once more.
“How come?” he asks, leaning further against the bar top.
“I— how come?”
You repeat his question in surprise.
Wildly gesturing towards the space between you with your hand, you snort.
“Uh, because that’s the right thing to do in this circumstance? Because seeing you in person is borderline unethical?”
He hums at that, not giving you much to work with.
“And for the record, I did not stalk you to this bar.”
“Didn’t think you did.”
“I’m actually here with friends—”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
Levi interrupts, seemingly unbothered by your rambling.
“At the gym. I can make an educated guess and say you knew it was me from the second I opened my trap, but you didn’t say anything.”
Why isn’t he freaking out?
Shouldn’t he be freaking out?
Just as you open your mouth to continue professing your innocence, the bartender walks over and points to you.
“What can I get you?”
You blanch, no longer remember how to order drinks.
“I—”
“I got her tab,” Levi interrupts casually, tapping his index finger into the counter. “Two hard seltzers.”
Then he has the audacity to glance your way.
“Pineapple, right?”
Holy shit, he remembers your favorite flavor?
Is this a flex?
(It kind of feels like a flex; a way to say I know you, I was there.)
“...pineapple’s fine,” you murmur in return, hesitant.
The bartender doesn’t waste another second to rummage in the mini fridge on the other side of the bar for two slim cans.
For another agonizing thirty seconds, neither of you say a word.
He raises his chin to watch whatever sport’s game is playing overhead on the television.
You stare at your mirrored reflection in the bar backsplash.
This is real life.
The man you’ve spent hours talking to over the phone to, getting off to, is sitting right beside you, yet he isn’t trying to create distance.
If anything, he’s buying you a damn drink and asking you why.
Why didn’t you say something?
“I didn’t say anything at the gym because that would have been extremely inappropriate,” you finally argue under your breath, keeping the conversation strictly between you. “What would I have said? ‘Oh hey, guy I've paid to talk to on the phone every single night for the past week. Isn’t it crazy that I actually go to the same gym as you?’ That’s so creepy.”
When he says nothing, still staring at you, you continue to bury yourself into a deeper grave.
“I mean, I thought you lived, like… a billion miles from me. Maybe from another planet.”
His brows pinch with amusement.
“On Mars, or…?”
Oh.
He’s joking.
He’s actually joking about this.
You turn your chin, brow furrowed. “This isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, and you have to force yourself to maintain eye contact.
“I wondered why you looked so scared of me on Friday. Thought maybe I smelled like shit from my workout.”
No, you want to say. Unfortunately it was the goddamn opposite.
“So you’re not…”
“Worried you’re a stalker trying to dox me because of my job?”
Levi blatantly finishes, and you wince.
Clearly he notices your embarrassment, because he sighs and relaxes his shoulders.
“I’m more pissed that you didn’t call all weekend, but then again, that’s the nature of the job.”
You both watch each other for a moment as the bartender returns, passing you both pineapple hard seltzers to nurse.
He pushes your can to your hand, nudging the icy-cold aluminum against your thumb, then picks up his own.
“The nature of the job?” you repeat, and he nods.
“People get bored. Run out of funds. Novelty wears off fast.”
Levi shrugs, sipping his drink.
“Just because you like talking to someone doesn’t mean they stick around. Wouldn’t blame 'em — shit gets expensive quick.”
“I just…”
You trail off, fighting to find the correct words to say.
“...I thought it wasn’t right to call again, knowing I knew what you looked like, so I didn’t.”
Explaining yourself makes your tongue feel sluggish, like you were caught red-handed in a crime you didn’t know you’d committed until hindsight.
“I can leave you alone,” you decide to add, holding your drink tighter. “Like I said, I’m here with my friends and… after all, you were doing your job. A great job. You’re kind of the reason I’m even here in the first place.”
Levi’s brow knits, and your eyes widen.
“Not like that!”
“Pretty shit at asserting yourself even in person,” he murmurs like it’s a cheeky inside joke, and he sips once more. “So how am I the reason?”
He’s not angry.
Hell, he’s conversational.
Not the least bit worried about how you’ve both managed to get here.
Might as well be honest.
“Because I decided to stop being a little less scared of the world,” you confess softly. “It— That’s why I got to the gym so early on Friday. I wanted to start doing strength training, like how you talk about how much you love it. And… I thought, maybe, I’d spend more time with friends. Get out there more. Be more assertive — beyond right now, obviously.”
The dark-haired man’s expression smooths at that in a mixture of recognition and surprise.
The slide of his brow is beautiful, and your heart squeezes at the sight of an animated Levi in the flesh, just as you pictured.
“Do you have to go back to your friends right now?”
At first you don’t quite register his question, but then it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach.
He looks left to right, as if trying to find your troop of buddies, before returning his attention back to you.
“You don’t… want me to leave?”
Levi shakes his head.
You feel bolted to your stool, unable to move even if you wanted to.
Simultaneously you sip your drinks, keeping eye contact.
It feels intimate.
Too intimate.
“So, then…” You start slowly. “What does this mean?”
“Well,” Levi begins, mulling it over in his head. “Means the whole provider-client relationship has basically gone to shit. You know my face, now I know yours.”
“Right.”
“Then again, that professionalism was already well into a shit pile way before Friday morning.”
You blink, not following. “Huh?”
“There’s nothing in the company policy about what to do when you stumble into your client at the damn local gym, but there sure as hell wasn’t anything about…”
Levi trails off, clenching his jaw in debate.
“...about crossing the line I practically leapt over. I’m good at my job because of my detachment, but this was the only time I bordered on unethical myself. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”
Sorry.
Levi… was sorry?
The words blurt faster than you can stop yourself. “Why the hell are you sorry?”
His eyes widen with a budding uncertainty.
“I… just said I crossed the line?”
“When?”
“On the phone?”
“Okay, duh, but when?”
“Our last session.”
“So that was real.”
Levi actually got off to your voice.
If you weren’t in such shock about sitting here face-to-face with him at a local bar, then perhaps your ego would have, in fact, made a crash landing on Mars.
He considers his next words very carefully.
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
Then he sips more before shaking his head.
“Look. It’s… a job a friend of mine got me. I’m not a real-life Casanova or any of that shit. Hell, most of my time was spent training punks to fight in a boxing ring, so I never had the energy for relationships or dating.”
You can't hide your surprise. “You were a fighter?”
He makes a noncommittal face.
“Loosely. Personal trainer, training in general — fell into it after I got out of the service.”
“Right, you were in the army,” you murmur, and the edge of his lips upticks at your recollection.
“A couple of months ago the gym I worked for went under, money got tight, so I thought I’d try it out. Guess everyone says it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, but bossing fighters around and fielding horny-ass callers ain't all that different."
Levi turns his chin just so to regard you under a wispy black fringe.
“I can usually predict what someone wants. The people that call this hotline shit, they’re in and out."
He takes a pause.
"You, though — the second I picked up your call, you threw me through a goddamn loop.”
You use your nail on your index finger to absently scratch the side of your thumb, attempting to process everything he’s telling you.
"First night we spoke, actually, I ended up at this very bar to contemplate why the fuck I wanted you to call back. Didn't want you blowing your money on it, obviously, it's overpriced and ridiculous, but — it clearly shook me up enough for me to take then ten-minute walk in the middle of the night in the first place."
Ten minutes.
That length of time strikes something in you.
“So, your… office building isn’t far?” you slowly ask.
Levi shakes his head. “No, no office. I work remotely. Kind of the reason why I took the gig in the first place. I wouldn’t do this shit if I had an audience in a damn two-by-four cube.”
You’re not sure what possesses you to confess it, but you point past your shoulder.
“My apartment complex is actually six blocks down the street.”
Ten minutes away, is your implication.
His hand had raised to sip from his seltzer can, but it halts immediately.
His eyes narrow.
“The complex on Junction Ave?”
“Yeah," you say.
“Right across from—”
“The Reiss deli.”
That narrowed gaze shoots wide. “You’re shitting me.”
“You say the word shit a lot.”
“Baby, I live there,” he blurts.
“Wait, what?”
Now it’s your turn for your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.
(You’re too shocked to even process what he called you.)
He huffs in a brief laugh, shaking his head.
“You gotta be fucking with me.”
“I’m not! Wait, you live in the same building as me?”
“You said Thomas was your goddamn mailman,” Levi states. “Do you know how many fucking Thomas the Mailmen there are in this world? I didn’t think we’d have the same one.”
Holy shit.
Oh, holy shit.
You sit up taller in your seat. “Wait, what floor?”
“Sixteenth.”
“I’m on the tenth!” you exclaim in your shock. “Holy shit, so you…”
Have been right above me this entire time.
Your phone buzzes, ruining your train of thought.
Reflexively you look down to see the preview of Annie’s message over your lock screen.
[A. LEONHART]: Did u die?
Right.
You’re here with friends.
“Friends wondering where you are?” Levi inquiries at the sight of your growing frown.
“Yeah, give me a sec.”
You swipe the screen north and type a reply.
[ME]: Talking to someone. Be over in a bit.
Annie’s reply is immediate, and you turn your phone from Levi’s view in mortification.
[A. LEONHART]: 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆
[A. LEONHART]: WINGMAN??? NEED????
[ME]: NO! Do not come over here!
[A. LEONHART]: ok ok ok noted
[A. LEONHART]: i’ll keep jaeger to the left end of the bar
“Looks urgent.”
“Huh?”
You shoot a glance back up to Levi, who’s now angled towards you with his cheek squished against his clenched fist. His elbow props him up on the bar top.
“No! No. It’s just my friend Annie. She — is actually the one who gave me the number to that hotline in the first place,” you confess.
Levi hums in that delicious way you’ve come to crave.
“I don’t want to derail your evening. I’ve already taken you away from them for a while.”
Your heart is hesitant, but it grows despite yourself.
“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay,” you quietly state. “I… liked talking to you. I mean, beyond the whole — you know.”
He nods once, setting his drink down.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to disappear, either. My job’s not exactly corporate. Not many people can separate fantasy from reality. With you, I never had to bullshit what it was, but…”
Levi trails off, sighing heavily.
“...but I also understand if it’s just a fantasy, for you.”
Something nestles itself between the lines of his words.
Something he isn’t saying outright, sussing out if he has any right to try.
“Do you really mean that, Levi?”
That sigh turns into a curbed huff, smile fleeting but enough to bring your stomach butterflies.
“Damn. Sounds nice, hearing my name in person.”
Oh, sweet Jesus.
You could scream into your damn seltzer, but you decide to play it as cool as you possibly can.
“So Levi’s your real name?”
He nods.
“Not creative enough to come up with an alias."
Levi shifts, rolling out a shoulder.
"But to answer your question, I’m saying I… yeah, I mean it. I wouldn’t mind asking you out for coffee sometime, given we seem to run on the same gym schedule as it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to leave it at the hotline and call it a day — no pun intended.”
Are you seriously hearing what he’s saying right now?
Does Levi want to step out of a fantasy and into your reality?
Your lips part with a million questions only to end up blurting a very stupid one:
“Are you single?”
That earns a bark of a laugh, causing his head to gloriously drop back, exposing his neck.
(All you want to do is sink your teeth into it.)
“Yes. Very,” he promises. “Are you, still?”
“Very,” you promise back.
“And my job doesn’t bother you?”
You haven't quite gotten that far, logistically, but it's only a coffee.
He isn't asking to marry you.
Besides, he talks about it like any other office job. You can't find any ill feeling toward it.
“Work is work,” you argue with a one-shoulder shrug. “Sure, it’s unconventional, but… I’m so used to not knowing what I want, or second-guessing what’s good for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever second guessed a damn thing with you.”
Bringing the seltzer back up to his mouth, Levi smirks against the can, mulling something over.
You smile in return, sipping your drink.
It's the truth.
He may not really know you, but he knows you.
Just as you're beginning to think you know him.
“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”
He steals a ballpoint pen from a dampened closed check from his left side.
Then he snatches a napkin from one of the bartending stations with lemons, limes, and straws.
Hunching over, he scribbles on said napkin, before turning a cheek to you.
“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow morning—”
Levi then sits up taller, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand resting on the bar top.
His skin is smooth.
Heated.
Your entire body melts to his whim as he turns your wrist over, palm facing up.
One by one his fingers unfurl your fingers, nestles the napkin in your hand, then closes your fist for safe keeping.
“—give me a call.”
Leaving a twenty on the bar counter, Levi lets go of your hand to slip off of his stool.
You say nothing as you watch him give you one last once-over, expression full of admiration, before turning into the sea of people.
A call.
Flexing your hand, you uncrinkle the napkin to read the number etched black on white.
Not the Scout Services Hotline.
No — his number.
Your attention flies back to the original spot where you've now properly abandoned your friends, but you know they'll forgive you for your absence.
Annie knows.
She'll cover for your abrupt disappearance.
On autopilot you yank out your phone, bypassing the texts from your friends, emails from work, and tap the little telephone icon.
Zero through nine appear.
Hastily you type the number, hesitation long gone, and press send.
One ring.
Two.
By the third, it abruptly cuts. You hear shuffling in the background. Cars beeping.
“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”
Levi Ackerman.
Knowing his full name warms your heart.
Standing from your stool, you rise to your toes to search the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Levi stands there on the sidewalk, holding his phone up to his ear.
“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”
Immediately he turns to the bar, searching the very same window.
Searching for you.
You smile to yourself.
"My schedule just opened up. I know it's a little late for some coffee, but..."
Trailing off, your teeth catch your bottom lip.
Be selfish.
"Are you free for some tea now?”
.
FIN
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
How are we feeling, Hotliner Nation? I teased that this may not be the end of this story. I'm not against writing a sequel, whether to continue the immediate story or time skip, but I wanted to see what people thought before I spoke too soon. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed our hotline journey together.
In the meantime I invite you to follow me here or subscribe to my AO3, as I have other projects in the works (including finishing the final chapters of my canon-based amnesia au with Levi, Silver Underground.)
The last two months have been such a wonderful journey, and I thank every single one of you for engaging the way you have. I never anticipated such a frenzy when I started P4, so sincerely, from the bottom of my heart - thank you for the comments, reblogs, inbox mssgs, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.
#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x female reader#attack on titan fanfiction#snk fanfiction#snk fanfic#aot fanfic#aot fic#snk fic#levi ackerman fanfiction#levi ackerman smut#levi ackerman fanfic#shingeki no kyojin fanfiction#aot fanfiction#shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction#aot smut#aot x reader#snk smut#snk x reader
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exhausted was an understatement. you were absolutely drained. you’d been up on your feet waiting tables since the sun practically rose until now—9pm.
and on top of all this, you still had to clean up your apartment, make a dish for your family reunion tomorrow, and go to the grocery store. it’d been an exasperatingly long day, and it was about to get even worse.
to add to it, you hadn’t seen matt in 3 days. you’ve both been so busy and you so tired, so there was never really time. you’d both agreed you probably weren’t hanging out tonight, either. so with that being said, when you’d finally sat down for 15 minutes before you’d planned to go to the store for groceries, all you could think about was matt. so, of course, you shot him a text. but, of course, your apartment’s cell service sucked, so you had to text him on snapchat as if you were 13 years old.
you
im so insanely tired today was way too much
i think my legs are going to melt away
you hit send with sigh. of course, you get an immediate response.
matt🤬(💞)
is my angel tired :(
do you want me to come over baby?
you
i dont wanna bother you
matt🤬(💞)
never.
be there in 10
you
i love you ☹️
matt🤬(💞)
i love you angel
actually make that around 30 i gotta do something
weird.
you set your phone down, and began to relax some more, getting comfortable under the throw blanket. and as expected, around 30 minutes went by before you heard someone unlocking your door and stepping in. it was matt, of course.
“hey, baby” matt said, kicking the door shut behind him and setting something down on your kitchen counter. you turn around to say hello, only to notice the tons of grocery bags sitting on the counter in front of him. he’d gone to the store for you.
“matt…you didn’t…” you say, getting up from the couch and making your way over to him. you weren’t the greatest at accepting help, and matt knew that. but he was never the type of person to not help you out when you clearly needed it.
“do what?” he asks, feigning obliviousness.
“go to the store! publix! they’re so expensive, matt.” you reply, gesturing to the publix bags filled to the brim.
matt laughs. laughs.
“i know you’re pretty tired, angel. but, i’d never let you go shoppin’ with your legs about to give out.” he teases, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
“well…how much were they?” you ask, feeling guilt settle in. matt hums, glancing in the bags. “probably like…95 bucks.” he answers, turning his gaze back to you. your eyes widen. half the time you would deny him spending even 20 dollars on you, let alone 95.
“oh gosh…hold on, let me go get some cash to pay you back-“ you set off to your room to grab your wallet from your purse. yet, as soon as your journey started, it was ended by matt grabbing your wrist and pulling you back over to him.
“absolutely not, angel. you don’t need to worry about that.”
“but-“
“no buts.” he gently presses a finger to your lips, shutting you up. you sigh in defeat. “good girl.” he murmurs with a soft smile, ruffling your hair.
but, you’ve gotta stand your ground somehow.
“i’m paying you back at some point!” you cross your arms. you notice ingredients for mac and cheese in the bags. matt knew you always made it for family events.
he shook his head, his hand moving to your shoulder and rubbing it. “no, you’re really not.” he protests. “but, what you are gonna do is go sit your pretty little ass on the couch while i cook up this mac and cheese.”
“what?”
“you have a family reunion tomorrow, no? you always make mac and cheese. it’s my turn. so go on and relax.”
God, you loved this man.
cutie little blurb cause im lazy 🤩 hope you enjoyed sweet soft bf matt causeeee i have some silly things cooking for him and chris!!!! yayyyyyyyyy
cutesy divider: @bernardsbendystraws
love u and remember to love urself💞
#cayleeuhithinknott#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#fluff#cute#bf!matt#so cute hello#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#blurb#fic#cutest omg
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The Next Stop (Ethan Landry x AFAB!Reader)
Words: 1.6k
Warnings: slight langauge, AFAB!Reader, (no pronouns specified) vaginal fingering, clit rubbing, smut, public smut, slight dub-con, strangers, slight exhibitionist/voyeurism kink, shame kink, masturbation, (vibrator) mentions of Ethan being Ghostface and the killings.
A/N: I’ve been thinking about the gif below a LOT as of late, he looks so fucking hot and this just sprang to mind last night and I whacked it all together. It’s hot, I think. Getting fingered by Ethan on a train but you have no idea who the fuck he is??? Uhhh yeah, this plays into my exhibitionist kink nicely.
The subway was oddly quiet, granted it was coming up to three in the morning, but still. You’d stayed at college late, cramming for your upcoming finals until you’d noticed just how late it really was and decided it was time to race home, get a few hours of nyquil induced sleep before having to relive the same day again tomorrow. You could say you were a bit of an overachiever. You texted your roommate quickly once you flopped down in a free seat, utterly exhausted, telling her you were on the way home but didn’t receive a response.
You sighed, leaning your head back against your seat and mindlessly played around on your phone, flipping from app to app absently when you suddenly felt the uneasy feeling that somebody was watching you.
The subway car only had about fourteen people inside, some were asleep, others were hunched over their own devices, working from a laptop or texting from their cell as you had been. Everyone except a tall, lean curly haired guy who stood with his hand gripping the pole beside him so tightly his knuckles were completely white, his dark brown eyes shamelessly staring at you with an endearingly intense glint shining in them.
You cleared your throat, tearing your eyes away from his fervid and observing gaze, focusing your consciousness back onto your phone. He was pretty, no doubt about that, the way he was staring at you made a dull flutter cascade through your core and inflame your stomach. The coach came to an abrupt stop, your hand flying out to catch yourself on the pole beside you to stop yourself falling out of the seat and the automated woman on the speaker announced that you were two stops away from your destination. Your phone buzzed in your hand and you glanced down, seeing your roommate text you back that she was heading to bed and for you to make sure you get home safe.
As you were about to respond, you were suddenly aware that someone had sat down carefully beside you. You glanced up for a moment, noticing the curly haired boy had settled in the seat next to you, eyes now set forward at the doors of the train. The smell of his cologne filled your nose, the scent subtle yet having an unprecedented effect on you, thighs tensing and your cunt clenching. You looked away quickly, sending a quick reply to your roommate and wishing her a good night before placing your phone into your jacket pocket, choosing to settle your gaze on the window, watching as New York passed you by, trying to ignore the boy sitting beside you.
His knee was touching yours, the rough material of his jeans rubbing against your bare skin at every jostle of the train. His hand resting on his thigh deftly dropped between the small gap separating the two of you, his bare fingers making contact with your soft skin casually. Your eyes instinctively darted down, watching as his fingertips began to faintly stroke your skin, grazing over the hem of your skirt.
You couldn’t help but steal a glance at his pretty face and noticed he looked almost bored, completely uninterested and still not looking at you at all. You felt his fingers glide over your thigh, stopping abruptly as he reached the middle, a soft tap of his fingers as if he was ordering you to open your legs for him.
You couldn’t do this, let some random fucking guy you’d never met start touching your pussy on the middle of the subway.
Just from the limited contact alone, you were already pathetically wet. It was like your body and mind had completely separated from one another as you lightly inched your legs apart, allowing him to slide his hand between them, his fingers grazing at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
You let out a small, shaky sigh as he dragged his fingers up, stopping just before he made direct contact for a few seconds, as if he were making a decision about how he wanted to touch you before the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your strained clit through your panties softly, the touch so faint it shouldn’t have even had that much of an effect on you, but alas, it did.
Your breathing hitched and from the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn you’d seen his lips twitch up into a small smile but you didn’t bother to look, worried it would snap you out of whatever the fuck had gotten into you.
This wasn’t you, you weren’t even the kind of person to interact with a stranger unless it was entirely necessary, but here you were, at three o’clock in the morning with your legs open and dying to let this random guy touch your pussy in a public space, practically gagging for it.
He began carefully moving his middle and forefinger in a gentle circular motion, rubbing your clit teasingly through your damp panties before, without warning, they were pushed aside, the hot pads of his fingers finally making direct contact with your strained, aching clit.
Your hand wrapped around the cold pole next to you again, this time to stop yourself from moaning aloud, your eyes fluttering closed as he began to play with your clit, his fingers skillful as he rubbed in small circular motions, his eyes still fixed ahead of him as though he wasn’t doing anything, as though this was an completely normal interaction. Perhaps it was for him, but at that moment you couldn’t care less. You didn’t care that the subway car was littered with strangers that could very well be watching this guy touch you so intimately, making you push yourself against his fingers like a needy whore with your head tilted back, eyes screwed up as you focused on just how good he was making you feel.
His fingers moved from your clit, dragging down your slit and collecting your juices, briefly plunging them inside and curling upward, pressing firmly against the spongy tissue and making you let out a soft whimper, looking down to see this strangers fingers gently pumping in and out of your cunt. Your legs were so wide from him now, your knee was practically resting against his thigh.
He removed his fingers before moving his fingers back up, using your juices coating his fingers to carry on playing with your exposed clit. Your chest began to heave, your hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over you casually, still not looking at you. Soft moans and gasps escaped you and you sunk your teeth harshly into your bottom lip and bit the inside of your cheeks so hard you could almost taste blood, trying desperately to be as quiet as you could manage as you clenched around nothing, feeling the fire in your stomach build and burn hotter and hotter with each expert glide of his slick fingers, your legs opening wider and wider for him which seemed to please him judging by how fast his fingers began to work your clit.
The pressure was perfect, the speed of his strong fingers was making your impending orgasm loom dangerously close as your back arched from your seat, pushing yourself against his long fingers before your eyes flew open and you came with a soft gasp on this tips of this stranger's fingers, hand gripping the cold metal of the pole so hard it’s a wonder it didn’t bend. Your eyes flew open as you reached your peak, meeting a man’s shocked and wide eyed gaze as he stared at you, mouth agape as he watched you cum, body shivering and writhing as you pushed your hips down against the strangers fingers, feeling them slide from your clit and into your soaked hole with every movement of your body.
The train stopped as you felt the warmth of his fingers abandon you. He cleared his throat a little, still not looking at you as he stood up, grabbing his bag from the ground and walked toward the doors. You finally moved your gaze onto him, watching as he left the train car, walked onto the platform without even looking back and disappeared up the steps of the station and vanished out of sight.
You felt suddenly self-conscious as your eyes met an older woman’s, her expression nothing short of disgusted, and the man that had watched you cum, his eyes still as wide as dinner plates as he stumbled up from his seat and adjusted himself in his pants, leaving the train looking completely dazed, as though this was the highlight of his month. Maybe it was. You shifted in your seat, feeling your wetness covering your thighs and no doubt staining the seat beneath you as you quickly closed your legs, crossing one over the other and pulled at the hem of your skirt, eyes quickly moving away from the woman and back through the window, beginning to bite at your nails, feeling satisfied yet extremely vulnerable and disgusting.
Did that really just fucking happen?
Despite the disgust you felt in yourself, it only added to your satisfaction. It felt new, different and exciting. You couldn't lie, you absolutely loved the combination of the mixed feelings.
Needless to say you never saw him again, you’d never really expected to. You thought about him a lot though, pressing your vibrator against your clit while you were alone in your bedroom, imagining the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his fingers as they expertly touched you, and just how fucking pretty he was and how hard he’d made you cum and just how easy it was for him to touch you, as if it was completely normal.
That was, until a few weeks later. You were at home, working on your thesis for class when the news grabbed your attention.
“Ghostface killers finally come to a grisly end. The family of killers, Detective Wayne Bailey and his children and resident Blackmore University students Quinn Bailey and Ethan Bailey, formally known as Landry, all brutally murdered after targeting previous survivors of the 2022 Woodsboro massacre, Samantha and Tara Carpenter, Chad and Mindy Meeks, and celebrity Gale Weathers.”
Your eyes widened as soon as you saw “Ethan’s” picture lighting up your screen, recognition hitting immediately. That was him, the stranger from the subway you'd all too willingly opened your legs for. Then your blood ran cold when the realisation that you’d let a murderer get you off and make you cum on a fucking train hit you like a ton of bricks.
#whooooo boy#this was FUN#look how pretty he is#LOOK#love him forever#anyways#i’m dead now#goodbye#scream#ethan landry#scream 6#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x you#ethan landry smut#ghostface#ghostface x reader#ghostface smut#slasher#slasher x reader
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A Stranger is a Friend You Haven’t Met Yet…
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader
wc: 2.5k words
warnings/tags: brief allusions to m masturbation
He should have known it would start pouring.
It had been that kind of day after all. More like than kind of week if the Lieutenant was being honest with himself. They’d been stuck on base for well over a month now, doing what felt to him like absolutely bloody nothing. He knew that wasn’t the case. Periods of lull happened from time to time in this career, they were still training diligently, gathering intel, running simulations, but Simon was becoming antsy.
As the days of not seeing any active combat turned into weeks, Ghost had gone through more packs of smokes than he cared to keep track of. He was itching for something to do, something that got his blood pumping and adrenaline coursing through his veins, in a way he couldn’t achieve through an intense workout or sparring session. His Captain was noticing his demeanour as well. Which in hindsight, was likely why the older man had tossed Ghost a set of keys late one evening after a particularly drab day. He’d told his Lieutenant to get some air, advising him to try and return before the soft pitter patter of raindrops that had steadily been falling all day turned into a proper storm. He sent him on his way, not without cautioning him against getting any scratches.
“On me or the bike, sir?” Ghost had teased the Captain, thanking him with a nod of his head as he accepted the motorcycle’s keys. But now an hour later, those soft raindrops had indeed began to increase in frequency, the wind equally picking up speed, whipping the drops across his helmet to and fro as he sped down any open stretch of road he came across. It’d already been dark out when he’d left base with the feeling of a roaring engine underneath him, but it was now becoming increasingly difficult to see through the visor of his helmet.
Most roads around the base were empty and desolate, considering there wasn’t much else in the area for a few klicks, and so Ghost found himself thankful for the sparse streetlights that began to appear as he ventured closer towards the city. He was still in a fairly quiet area, especially combined with the time of night and weather, and so as he began considering turning around and cutting his ride short, Ghost was especially surprised to spot what appeared to be a lone figure standing under one of those lamp posts.
Not just some figure, but a girl.
Ghost blinked twice, unsure if he was imagining things. But she was still standing there, soaked to the bone and frantically poking shivering fingers at a cell phone. His bike slowed down as he approached her, acting almost on instinct, without considering what he was going to do. He just saw her and immediately knew he was going to do something.
She jumped in surprise as the loud bike approached, gaze lifting from the phone in her hands and landing on the source of the rumbling noise. Ghost planted a foot on the ground, leaving enough space between them as to hopefully not frighten her any further than he might have already, but close enough to see her properly through the rain. And when her gaze lifted to the visor of his helmet and locked eyes with him, he swears his heart stopped beating right then and there.
You were quite the sight to behold. Hair dripping as if you’d just dunked your hair under water, strands sticking to your face and neck, clothes completely soaked through, any exposed flesh was covered in goose bumps and your entire body was shivering. Your makeup was smudged slightly around your eyes, your lips were parted in surprise and you gave out the tiniest little “Oh!” upon his approach. You were nothing short of mesmerizing. What were you doing out here all alone?
“Y’alright?” Ghost has to half shout to be heard over the roaring of the engine and the steady falling of the rain. He watches you blink through the raindrops clinging to your eyelashes and he has to bite back the urge to rip his helmet off and lick the drops sliding down your face. Christ what the fuck is wrong with him?? Where did that come from??
“I- I’m lost! I’ve been trying to call for a cab, but-” you’re cut off by a small gasp of displeasure as a cold gust of wind hits you. “Reception out here isn’t working!” You shout back to him. Ghost finds himself momentarily mortified by the movement he felt in his pants in reaction to the noise you just made, but he pushes those thoughts aside and glances around him.
“How’d you end up out here? S’not safe!” He for some reason finds himself displeased with the idea of you walking up and down this desolate stretch of road, late at night, getting yourself sick in this weather you aren’t even properly dressed for. You’re nothing short of a vision on legs, who would allow you to be out here by yourself like this? You open your mouth as if to answer him, but Ghost shakes his head, having already made up his mind. “Where you tryin’ to get to?”
“Was supposed to get dropped off at The Morris. Didn’t realize there was more than one…” you tell him sheepishly, glancing down at your shoes as if you’re the one who should be embarrassed that the cabbie dropped you off at some dingy old pub by the same name as your hotel, and left you in the pouring rain when you clearly didn’t look sure of yourself. Ghost decides then and there that he does not like to see you looking so upset and down on yourself, especially if there’s anything he can do about it. He’s planting his other foot down on the ground now, pulling his helmet off his head and thrusting it in your direction in the blink of an eye.
“S’not far from here. Hop on, I’ll take ya.” He says, holding the helmet out to you as he adjusts the black surgical mask he’d donned beforehand. He is momentarily thankful he switched masks out at the last minute. He’s never cared whether his usual Ghost masks intimidate anyone before, that’s kind of the point of them. But for you, being approached late at night in the dark by a large strange man on a motorcycle offering you a ride, he’s grateful that you’re looking into his eyes rather than through his usual mask. Still, he can sense the hesitation rolling off of you. You’re obviously in a predicament, and this stranger is your new best hope, but you’re still cautious. Good girl, he thinks to himself. “Can’t just leave ya out here, love. Wouldn’t be right of me.” He cringes internally at his use of the nickname, but he watches as your gaze drops to the helmet in his still extended hand. “You’ve my word, I’ll keep ya safe.”
At that, you look up into his eyes again, and you must see something there that appeases whatever part of you still wants to deny a stranger, because your small hand slips the phone into your back pocket before both hands each out to grasp the helmet, a small sheepish smile on your face.
“I don’t know, my mother always said not to take rides from strangers…” You said, pushing the wet strands of hair away from your face as best as you could. Wait, were you teasing him now? He can’t help the small surprised chuckle that slips past his lips.
“Well,” he replies, watching as you don the helmet and attempt to adjust the chin strap. Your fingers have gone numb from the cold and are shaking, struggling to complete your task. He extends a hand out gently in offering, raising an eyebrow as well, before you nod in approval. His own hands reach out to grab onto the straps, careful not to pinch your skin in the process. “My mum always said that a stranger was a friend you hadn’t met yet.” He actually could remember his mum saying that to him once as a small boy. A rare happy memory that was still nestled in the deep recesses of Ghost’s subconscious.
“Thanks.” You answer as he retracts his hands reluctantly. “Suppose if I knew your name we wouldn’t be strangers anymore.”
Ghost can’t help but to freeze momentarily at that. You’re asking for his name. His name. For some reason he cannot name at the second, he doesn’t want you to call him Ghost. Something about it feels unnatural to the moment that’s happening before him. However, he isn’t about to utter the name Simon. He can’t even remember the last time someone called him by his first name, it might’ve been Price ages ago. The rain is still pouring down on your both, wind whipping you from all sides, and so in a split second, Ghost decides to say:
“Riley. Name’s Riley.” And to his utter amazement, you smile up at him after that. A beautiful, genuine, earth-shattering smile. All because of his name?? He has to actively fight to listen past the beating of his own heart to hear you offer him your name. And it’s a sound that etches itself into his memory right then and there.
As much as he wants to stand here forever just gazing at you, he wants to get you out of this weather more. Again, without really thinking about it, Ghost is slipping his leather jacket off and insists on slipping it onto your frame, mentioning something about the roads being slippery and not wanting you to get road rash. When you tell him you’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before, he helps direct you in how to sit behind him, showing you where to hold onto him with your delicate hands around his midsection. Ghost is glad you’re behind him and can’t see the way his face has gone beet red at the feeling of your touch. He’s telling you to hold on tight, knowing he’s going to be driving half the speed he normally would without such precious cargo in tow.
The ride isn’t a very long one, and Ghost finds himself wishing he could have a word with whatever cabbie left you out there like that when it was this easy to drop you off where you were meant to be. But as he approaches your destination, his mind begins to wander. What are you doing out here? A pretty little bird like yourself shouldn’t be alone to begin with, and there isn’t anything out here for tourists or sightseers. This area really is predominantly just the military base and its few surrounding businesses before reaching the next city.
Are you staying at the hotel near base because you’re visiting someone there? A boyfriend or a husband? He doesn’t find it likely, considering he found you by yourself and you were trying to get in contact with a cab rather than someone you may know around here. Still, the thought of there being someone in your life leaves a bad taste in Ghost’s mouth, though he knows it is wholly unjustified.
As the bike slows down in front of your hotel and settles under an awning, allowing temporary reprieve from the rain, Ghost finds himself stepping off first to help you with your descent. He wordlessly helps unfasten the helmet and gently slips it off your head, hearing your sweet little laugh as you brush back the hair that got messy on the ride, slipping off his jacket and handing it back to him. Now you’re gazing up at him and Ghost isn’t sure what to say or do but he finds himself, more than anything, grateful that he was the one to find you tonight, knowing that he got you here safe and sound.
“I really can’t thank you enough. I’m not sure how long I’d been standing there, but I might just get feeling back in my toes by the end of the night now.” You mention with a small giggle at the end, yet another sound that Ghost finds himself wanting to memorize forever.
He opens his mouth in an attempt to wave you off. It really wasn’t a big deal in the end, if anything you gave him a purpose tonight. He goes to tell you as much, but then your small hand is reaching up, landing on his bicep in what feels like a hot iron touching his muscle directly, before you whisper to him:
“You’re a good man, Riley.”
With a gentle squeeze to his arm, and one last soft smile, you’re turning around and walking through the front doors, leaving a 6’4” mountain of a man frozen in place and face burning hot as it ever has.
He’s back at base within the hour, and has already replayed every moment of your interaction over and over in his mind, that by the time he’s in the shower and has his fist wrapped around his steel hard cock, he feels like he can still hear your laugh, still feel your delicate touch on his skin. He reminds himself that there’s no way any of these chumps on base are the reason you’re around, none of these men were there for you tonight when you needed them, but he was. That’s what Simon reminds himself as he stokes his thumb over his tip, spreading the drops of precome up and down his shaft, imagining that it’s your hand instead. That’s what he tells himself to ensure he feels guilt free as he thinks of you calling him ‘a good man’, as he spills over his hand in record time, your name choking in the back of his throat, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.
The next morning as he’s sitting next to Soap for the morning briefing, he can’t stop thinking of you. It’s bittersweet to think that he will never see you again, but at the same time, he can forever keep last nights events as a treasured memory for himself, keeping it tucked away for when he needed it. He’s never going to share that story with anyone, not Soap, not the Captain, not even his journal will be hearing of you. He wants you all to himself in his mind only. Hell, he very well might have imagined you last night for all he knows, an illusion his mind created to entertain him, even for just a short period. He’s hardly listening to the Scot yapping next to him about some new translator finally arriving, rolling his eyes when he hears him whine that he hopes it’s ‘a bonnie lass this time’.
“You’ll do well to mind yourself Sergeant.” Price says to Soap, not bothering to look up from the papers he’s going through. “Been tryin’ to get ahold of her for a long feckin’ time now.”
“So it is a lass??” Soap asks with no attempt to hide his excitement.
“Last time I checked, yes, I’m still a ‘lass’.” Comes a new voice from the doorway. Everyone’s gazes have snapped towards the newest figure to enter the briefing room. Everyone’s but Ghost. Because he recognizes that voice.
It’s you.
Part 2
#call of duty fic#call of duty fanfic#call of duty#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley fluff#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x reader#ghost fanfic#ghost cod#ghost fic#readwritealldayallnight
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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader
PART 3
Summary: Swear? On my life. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, oral (f + m receiving), fingering, squirting, deepthroating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, spanking, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), rough sex, creampie, mirror sex, shower sex, playful banter and teasing, so much fluff it'll make your teeth ache, porn WITH plot now A/N: I really just want to thank EVERYONE for all the love on this lil fic. It was really only meant to be a small one-shot for shits and giggles and you guys just made it mean so much more to me ;') I hope I did their love story justice <3
Masterlist | Ko-fi
“I think this is the last of it,” you huffed, handing Joel the final box off the moving truck.
It had been six months of long-distance before Joel finally put his foot down and demanded that you move in with him and his daughter Sarah. It didn’t take much coaxing since you were just as impatient as he was to live together. You had been practically glued to your cell phone over those six months, always staying up late talking to him. You learned all about him: his career, his life in Austin, his daughter, and his wife, who had left him after she was born. You came to find he was a fantastic listener, too. He’d sit there and listen to you babble on and on about your job at the marketing agency and how traffic in California always pissed you off. Once in a while, he’d hum in agreement with your complaints but always found a way to shut you up with sweet words…or dirty ones. It was no surprise to you that he had a filthy fucking mouth when he wanted to turn you on…which happened all the time.
You followed him into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, where he set the box on the ground. Exhausted, you flung yourself onto the bed, exhaling a sigh of relief to be done moving finally. Joel plopped down next to you, staring off into the ceiling fan with an even louder exhale.
“Not sure why you’re huffin’ and puffin’, babydoll. I did all the heavy lifting,” he said, his voice soft and teasing.
You rolled onto your side, glaring at him with sweat still dripping down your face.
“In case you haven’t noticed,” you grumbled. “I’m not used to this damn humidity. It’s almost fucking eighty degrees in December! This is ridiculous.”
“Aw, s’my girl missing the coast?” he feigned a pouty face.
“Fuck off,” you scoffed, rolling over to face the other direction.
“I’m just kiddin’, darlin’. I’m happy you’re here.”
“I am, too,” you sighed.
Joel moved with you, the steady warmth of his back pressing against your body. You nuzzled into him, breathing in synchronicity, a moment of stillness in the chaos. You were home.
“Joel,” you whispered.
“Yeah, babydoll?” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck.
“I need you.”
Moving your bodies in unison, Joel rolled on top of you, holding your face in his hands. He was softer than before, his eyes washing over you with a happiness you could only have dreamed of. You arched into his touch, pressing your lips to his for a slow, hungry kiss. His mouth moved on yours with such ferocity you had no choice but to surrender completely.
“S’all you needed, babydoll?” Joel murmured against your open mouth. “Just some attention and lovin’?”
“Maybe just a lil’ bit,” you confessed.
“Sarah’s not gonna be home from school for ‘few hours,” he mused. “Reckon, I can give you all the attention you want.”
You tugged at the hem of his shirt, giving him a playful grin. In a matter of seconds, you were both fully undressed. Joel leaned back on his heels, taking in your naked body spread across his linen bed sheets. His hand wrapped around one of your ankles, his fingers slowly sliding up your calf and thigh. He never took his eyes off of yours as his hands continued roaming over the curves and planes of your body; each brush of his finger a shockwave through your skin.
“If I ain’t the luckiest son ‘a bitch alive,” he shook his head, smiling down at you.
“You’re not too bad yourself, cowboy,” you replied.
Joel was fucking gorgeous…everywhere. You knew all this time he was broad and muscular under that damn black shirt, but seeing his bare chest on display was something else. A spattering of hair covered his chest and down his stomach, a dark trail of it leading to his hardened cock. Every inch of him was defined, yet so soft, from how his biceps tensed and flexed to the curve of his stomach as his waist tapered down. You wanted to spend eternity exploring each freckle and mole, connecting the space between them on his tanned skin with an array of kisses.
Cupping one of your breasts, Joel bent down to capture your lips again, his other hand falling between your inner thighs. Your arousal coated his fingers as he slid them between your legs, teasing you with the pad of his thumb against your clit.
“Can’t believe this is s’all mine,” he whispered into your ear. “You hear me, darlin’? You’re all mine.”
“I’m yours,” you agreed.
Joel’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes drawn to where his fingers worked at your body. You whimpered and spread your legs wider, urging him to keep touching you. You never wanted him to stop, never wanted these moments to end. Your hands tangled in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp.
“What ya’ want, darlin’? Use those words.”
“You…I—I want you,” you panted. “I want your cock, please.”
“Want it or need it?” He questioned, applying more pressure to your throbbing clit.
“Need it!” You cried.
Joel pushed two fingers inside you, stretching you out as he curled them deep inside you. He was teasing you slowly, pulling those embarrassing sounds from your mouth as you clenched around his fingers. Your body lit up as the pleasure built slowly, warmth spreading through your core. His fingers curled harder, hitting you at that blinding spot that made time suspend around you. All you could do was cry as the ecstasy swelled inside you, your hands clutching his neck to keep you grounded.
“Listen to those pretty lil’ sounds,” Joel hummed. “Fuckin’ love hearin’ ya cry out for me.”
“I—fuck! Fuck, Joel, please!” you begged. “God, please!”
“Please, what, darlin’? Y’wanna cum? Is that what ya want?”
You twisted your face into the pillow, muffling a scream as your body tensed up one final time before you were drenching him with your release, the sheets under you becoming a complete mess. Your walls clenched around his fingers, pulsing through each ripple of your orgasm. Joel pulled his fingers from you slowly, your body sinking into the mattress as you removed your face from the pillows. Gazing up at him with heavy eyes, you watched as he brought his pointer finger to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit. Enamored, you stared in stunned silence as he licked away your arousal. Drawing it from his mouth, he pressed his middle finger against your parted lips, coaxing them open.
“Taste yourself, babydoll,” he ordered.
Taking his finger in your mouth, you swirled your tongue, collecting the remnants of your cum. His pupils were blown wide as he watched you, the corners of his mouth twitching with an approving smile. He pressed his finger on your tongue, adding another as he pushed them further back.
“There ya’ go, darlin’,” he said, his voice rugged and dark.
You squirmed under him, needing more. A string of saliva dripped off your bottom lip as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down your chin and throat. His hands reached down to hold your hips, flipping you over to your stomach. Hauling you onto all fours, he pressed the tip of cock to your entrance, giving you no time to prepare as he drove into you. The air was knocked out of your lungs as he buried himself deep, holding you steady until he started moving. And when he began moving… he was relentless. Your hands tried to make purchase on the headboard as he railed into you, his hips snapping at a violent pace.
Your orgasm was tearing through you in no time, your cunt squeezing his cock into a vice as warm liquid dripped down your thighs. Joel growled behind you, his fingers bruising your hip bones.
“That’s it, there’s my good girl. Fuckin’ drenching’ my cock.”
His hand came off your hips, delivering a round of slaps against your ass that had you wailing in pleasure. The sting of his hand on your skin was enough to send you over the edge again, that desperate need to cum stirring inside you.
“Joel!” you shouted. “I—I’m gonna cum again, please!”
“I know, babydoll, I know,” he crooned. “I got you.”
You white-knuckled the headboard, another rush of liquid gushing out of you. You were overstimulated and crying as he kept a brutal pace. Another spank, another drive of his cock inside you… over and over in repetition.
“Gonna fill this pussy up,” he grunted. “Y’want my cum, babydoll?”
Words wouldn’t form on your lips; you could only wag your head in approval, needing him to fill you full. Joel wrapped your hair around his fist and pulled your body against his, your back meeting his sweaty chest. He slowed his pace, fucking you deeper and more rhythmically until he was panting in your ear as he caved into his release. You moved in unison, bodies heaving for air as the world dissolved around you. He held you against him for a minute, his teeth grazing your shoulder.
“Did so fuckin’ good for me,” he whispered against your skin.
You whimpered at his praises, letting your body sag into his embrace. Leaning your head back on his shoulder, you hummed in contentment, sinking into the press of his body against yours. Everything felt so right. Three little words were bubbling to the surface, but you swallowed them, too afraid to speak them aloud. You didn’t know if it was too soon; you were so caught up in the moment that you weren’t thinking straight.
“I think I need a nap after that,” you chuckled, leaving those words tucked away in your head.
“Bed s’all yours, darlin’,” Joel said, unsticking his body from yours.
You curled under the covers, his scent enveloping you as you nestled into the bed. Joel leaned down to kiss your forehead, smoothing out your hair. Through heavy lids, you gazed up at him and smiled.
“Get some sleep, babydoll. I’ll be ‘round the house unboxing stuff ‘til you’re up.”
“Thanks, cowboy.”
**
December passed by in a blissful blur, every day bringing something new. You had found a new job at a marketing agency in Austin, spending the usual 8-5 huddle in groups as you worked through different projects. Joel was always home before you, a plate of dinner waiting on the table for you and Sarah. You teased him constantly about the grease marks on his arms after his long days at work and made sure to tease you right back for the dress and heels you wore every day—which somehow always ended up with you naked on the bed, still wearing your stilettos as he fucked you into the mattress.
It was Christmas morning, and you were waiting downstairs by the tree with Sarah. You both had devised a plan to surprise him with a new watch; his old one had cracked at work while he was elbow-deep working on an old Mustang engine. He never mentioned needing a new one, but you noticed how he would absentmindedly look at his bare wrist at breakfast time each morning.
“You think he’ll like it?” Sarah asked nervously, handing over the grey box to you.
“He’ll love it,” you assured her.
You were nestled into the couch in one of Joel’s shirts and sweats, waiting for the man himself to finish up in the kitchen. Walking into the living room, Joel had his hands full with two cups of coffee and a glass of orange juice squeezed between the crook of his elbow. He grunted at Sarah to grab the glass of orange juice, extending the extra coffee mug to you as he dropped onto the couch cushions.
“Alright,” He yawned. “Let’s see what the fat man got y’all.”
Sarah tore into her presents, squealing at the heaps of new clothes and accessories she pulled from each box. You stole a glance at Joel, watching him look at his daughter with so much love and happiness. You had caught him giving you that same look from time to time, sometimes when you were walking out of the shower or when you were curled up on the couch together watching shitty action films. Maybe he did lov—.
“Open your present, Dad!” Sarah exclaimed, dragging you from your wandering thoughts. “We got you something special!”
“Y’did, huh?” Joel looked at you with skepticism.
You held out the box to him, shrugging with nonchalance.
“Surprise, cowboy,” you grinned.
He did a double take at the box in your hand, shock written all over his features. You looked over at Sarah, who was practically buzzing with anticipation as she waited for her dad to open his gift. Taking the box in his hands, Joel’s eyes shifted between you and Sarah, his big brown eyes softening.
“Y’all really ain’t had to do anything,” he protested. “Got all I need right here.”
You reached over to squeeze his knee, urging him just to open the damned thing. He caved, flipping open the lid to reveal his new watch. The wraps on the watch were made from military green nylon, and the face of it was made from black mineral glass that would be durable and long-lasting. It wasn’t anything flashy or extravagant; you and Sarah knew he’d hate that.
Joel wrapped his hands around the nylon, holding it as he sat silently. You craned your neck to get a better look at his face; his brows furrowed, and his lips downturned.
“You hate it, huh?” Sarah asked quietly.
“What?” Joel shook his head. “God no, sweetheart, I love it. Thank you.”
Sarah’s face perked up at his words, and she hauled herself up from the floor to give him a big embrace. You sat back and let them have their moment, enjoying the warmth floating around the room. Joel looked over Sarah’s shoulder at you, mouthing a soft thank you.
Of course, you mouthed back.
He squeezed Sarah one last time before breaking the hug, ruffling her hair as she pulled away. He worked the watch around his wrist, clasping it on and admiring it against his tanned skin.
“S’too much,” he mumbled. “Ain’t deserve these nice things.”
“Yes, you do,” you responded.
Joel shook his head, for once at a loss for words. Sarah glanced between you both on the couch and gave you a small smile before grabbing her opened presents and disappearing to her room. You turned your attention back to Joel, already finding his eyes settled on you.
“S’real nice of y’all to do this,” he sighed. “I really ‘ppreciate it.”
“She just wanted to do something special for you,” you said, scooting closer to him. “She loves you.”
“I know, I know.”
Joel hauled you into his lap, pulling your arms around his neck before his own settled around your waist. You leaned in close, brushing your nose against his before kissing his lips softly. Those words you had shoved down were coming back up again, crawling through your chest and banging to come out. You couldn’t wrangle them down this time.
“Joel, I—.”
“Don’t,” he whispered.
Your stomach dropped, the happiness you had felt crumbling away. Of course, it was too soon; you had been stupid to think he was ready to hear those words…or even reciprocate them. You chewed on your lip, trying—and failing—to hide your disappointment.
“Don’t say it,” he continued. “I wanna say it first. I love you, babydoll. S’fucking much.”
His features began to blur as tears fell against your cheeks.
“Swear?” You asked.
“On my life.”
Cupping your face in his large hands, Joel pulled you in for a deep kiss, his tongue tracing over your bottom lip as you surrendered to his touch. Your mouths moved together, hands roaming skin, sounds escaping in breathy moans. You hadn’t expected to fall for him so fast—or fall for him at all. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did, and you were happier because of it.
“I love you, too, cowboy,” you whispered.
Later that night, Joel had you laid out on the bed upside down, your head dangling off the edge as you watched him above you through the mirror beside the bed. You could see his lips pressed against your stomach; you could feel the warmth of his mouth on your skin.
“Watch me, babydoll,” he instructed. “Don’t take those pretty eyes off the mirror.”
You groaned as his tongue glided over your clit, each lick soft and slow. You bit your lip, trying to stifle your whines, knowing Sarah was only a few feet down the hall. You kept your eyes trained on the mirror, watching as Joel’s mouth worked at your wet cunt. His nose rubbed against your clit as he plunged his tongue inside you, a traitorous moan falling from your mouth. His eyes connected with yours through the mirror, the brown in his irises nearly black in the dim lights of the bedroom.
“Quiet, darlin’,” he warned. “Be good for me.”
“I’ll be good,” you promised.
“That’s my girl.”
Then his mouth was back on you. He guided you toward the edge of your orgasm, keeping you suspended between bliss and delirium. You couldn’t hold on any longer, white-hot pleasure electrifying your nerves and spotting your vision. Joel kissed each of your thighs, raising his head to capture your gaze again, a lopsided grin plastered on his wet lips. You tilted your head up, the blood rushing back to the surface as you settled into the bed. Joel crawled up your body, caging you between his muscular arms.
“So damn beautiful, babydoll,” he praised.
“You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”
He smiled wider, pushing your legs apart as he lined up with your entrance. Breaking you open slowly, Joel rocked into you, his pace slow and sensual. You melted against him, the press of his skin on yours enough to send another wave of pleasure through your core. Your fingers flexed against the solid muscles of his back, his shoulder blades moving with each roll of his hips. Joel’s hand slid down your leg, cupping the underside of your knee as he hauled your leg higher, forcing himself deeper into you.
“Joel,” you whimpered quietly. “Feel’s so fucking good.”
“I know, babydoll,” he whispered. “S’like you were made for me.”
You were mindless as another spasm tore through you, your legs shaking around his waist as your mouth dropped open in a silent cry. Joel chased his release moments later, spilling into you with a quiet slew of curses and grunts. He peppered your neck and jaw in an array of kisses, nipping at your earlobe with a string of praises falling off his tongue.
He hauled you from the bed, carrying you into the bathroom, where you both stood under the spray of the hot water for nearly an hour. It wasn’t long before he had you pressed against the cold shower walls, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body.
Into the late hours of the night, you found yourself wrapped around Joel, your limbs intertwined under the comforter's warmth. Your head rested against his shoulder, fingers dancing over the hair across his chest. Joel’s thumb rubbed circles around your shoulder blade as he pulled you tighter to his body. The smell of sex and cedarwood filled the air inside the bedroom, and your eyes drifted closed while you focused on the sound of his breathing beside you.
“I love you, Joel,” you sighed, nuzzling into his embrace.
“I love you, darlin’. Always.”
**
The months faded away, the air turning warmer as summer crept in. Work had been picking up as the seasons changed, and your schedule was always packed from start to finish each day. On a particularly sunny day, you found yourself free for the afternoon after a long morning meeting. Driving through the town, you turned onto a street far too familiar to you now. Aside from Joel’s truck parked in the garage, the mechanic shop was empty. Smoothing down your pencil skirt, you exited your car with a devilish idea in mind. The bells above the door chimed as you waltzed into the waiting room with a devilish grin. Joel perked up from behind the counter, setting down the newspaper gripped between his hands.
“What can I do for ya, miss?” Joel smirked, quickly feeding into your energy.
“Got myself a flat,” you feigned distress, leaning against the counter before him. “Can you help me out?”
“S’gonna cost ya,” he shrugged.
“I’m all outta cash,” you whined, resting your chin on the palm of your hand.
“Gotta credit card?” he questioned.
“It’ll get declined,” you pouted.
Joel let out a heavy breath, scratching his neck as he took you in your exaggerated appearance.
“Well, that’s got you in quite the predicament.”
“A pretty big one, huh?” You stifled a giggle. He knew what you were implying.
“I reckon we can work somethin’ out,” he insisted, nodding his head towards the back door.
You followed him out to the garage, excitement bubbling to the surface. Joel leaned against the hood of his truck, tugging at your skirt to draw you closer, forcing you to stumble a bit in your heels. Wrapping a big arm around your waist, he pinned you to his body, his hand coming up to cradle your face.
“Y’sure are somethin’, babydoll,” he said before leaning in for a hungry kiss.
“Whatever do you mean?” you said sarcastically. “I’m just an innocent woman lookin’ for help.”
“Keep runnin’ that mouth of yours, darlin'. It’ll only get you in trouble,” he warned.
“What’re you gonna do about it, cowboy?” you taunted, running your hands under the fabric of his shirt.
Grabbing the base of your throat with a strong hand, Joel forced you down to your knees. You stared up at him obediently, an eager smile on your lips. With his hand still wrapped around your neck, he used the other to free his cock from his jeans, rubbing the tip of it over your parted lips.
“Better make use of that fuckin’ mouth,” he growled. “Since ‘ya need that tire fixed so bad.”
“I’ll do anything,” you pleaded.
You took him into your mouth, rolling your tongue over the head of his cock. The taste of salty precum swirled around your mouth as you took him deeper, eliciting a satisfied rumble from his chest. Joel jerked his hips forward, forcing you to sputter around his cock as he hit the back of your throat. You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking him harder with each thrust of his hips. You reached up to cup his balls, running your fingers over the silken skin as he drove into your mouth over and over again.
“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, babydoll,” he instructed, his voice shaky.
You obliged, staring up at him with an open-mouthed grin. With a loud grunt and flex of his thighs, he coated your tongue in his release, some of it dripping off your lip. Your tongue darted out to catch it as Joel watched in a post-climax haze. His eyes were hooded and full of desire, and you could feel your cunt throbbing with need the longer he stared at you.
Standing on shaky legs, you reeled him in for a long kiss, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Joel deepened the kiss by twisting his tongue around yours, muffled sounds lost against your lips as he wrapped you into a tight embrace.
“So,” you drawled, pulling away from his hungry lips. “Think I can get that tire fixed?”
“I might be able to work somethin’ out,” he mused. “We can negotiate it over dinner.”
“Oh, you wanna wine and dine me now?”
“Damn right, I do,” he grinned. “Now, let’s go home so I can feast on you.”
“Take me home, cowboy.”
You both decided to leave your car parked at the shop and drive home together in his truck. With the console propped up, Joel had you pressed against his body, your eyes steadily watching him as he drove you home. Home. In the golden hour of sunset, you watched his eyes shimmer in flex of gold and auburn. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the silhouette of his face perfectly shadowed by the sun dipping below the horizon. He glanced down at you, a warm smile creasing the lines around his eyes.
“What’s that look for, huh?” He squeezed your hip, his other hand gripping the wheel.
“I love you,” you sighed.
“I love you, too, babydoll. Always.”
#joel miller#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joel tlou#joel miller x f!reader#mechanic!joel#tlou#tlou fanfiction#one shot#joel miller pre outbreak
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j.b.b | The Grinch
Summary: Y/N can’t travel to see her family on Christmas so she invite her grumpy loner neighbour, Bucky.
Pairing: Post blip!Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Warnings: Use of Y/N and feminine pronoums, a few mentions of food and alcohol, angst, some vulgar language, everything is in the summary really, this is set like the falcon and the winter soldier never happened or it's happening before that.
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: This is the 4th Xmas OS of the series. So sorry it is a couple of days late. Please do share and like if you enjoyed it, it means a lot! Merry Christmas!
2024 Christmas Masterlist | Main Masterlist
18th of December
$125
Y/N blinked at the number being displayed on her phone’s screen. She had stopped right in the middle of what she was doing, in utter disbelief of her discovery. Her whole process of thoughts seemed to have frozen; just like her computer would display “error 404” when she would perform contradictory actions.
She didn’t understand how this was possible; something was wrong obviously wrong because she didn’t expect this number to be displayed. Refusing what she was seeing, she logged out of the app and then back in a couple of times.
Yet, every time, the sentence was the same.
$125
Despite everything, this was currently the amount of money Y/N had on her bank account. These past couple of months, she had been saving for this moment; a moment she had been imagining all year long and for which she expected to be shredding happy tears. Instead, the tears currently running down her cheeks were made of pure anger.
She found the culprit quite easily. A monthly interest payment of a loan that was playfully mocking her on top of her bank statement. Now that she was thinking of it, she should have probably read all those letters; the ones with the red-inked stamp “urgent” printed on them. She had found all the excuses in the world: especially how exhaustive was she after having worked double shifts almost every day lately or that it had just been easier to have them sitting on her coffee table.
Y/N had no idea what she would do. If $125 was probably quite enough to eat until the end of the month if she made a few compromises, there was no way she would be able to buy flight tickets to get home for Christmas. She would have brought them earlier if she had been able to – at a time she still had the money on her bank account, for example – but her colleague had only confirmed that same day they could take over her shifts during the Christmas week. Now, she didn’t have any money and would be alone for the year-end celebration.
Her cell phone ringing made her snap back to reality. She was still in front of her building, keys in one hand, frozen in her action to enter. Her heart sunk has she discovered the picture displayed on the screen; her sister and her, one of the last pictures they had taken together, at Y/N’s university graduation ceremony, a couple of weeks before the blip. Her sister was most likely calling her about this “very good news” Y/N had texted her about that afternoon. Now, she only had to let her know that it had been a false alarm and that she wouldn’t be able to make it home this year.
Again.
It wouldn’t be the first time indeed. In fact, ever since the blip had been reversed, Y/N had not been home for the Christmas. At first, she had chosen not to. She was the only person in her family to have been gone. Without her, they all had continued with their lives, and the post-blip had been brutal for her. One second, she was full of life: she had just gotten an amazing job in New York, and she was going to live her dream. The other, the blip had happened, five years had passed, and she had lost everything. Her family, her job, herself. Her little sister was now older than her, graduating college and ready to start a family. Her parents had retired and started a new life in California. She didn’t have a dream job anymore; she had no job at all in fact. In this world that had changed so much, she felt out of places. So, she did what she thought was could do. She left everyone behind and moved to New York.
The months after moving there had been full of hope. Hope that she could still make it to her dream job and life after all. She had gotten in touch with associations working on helping people post-blip. They said: if she took a few classes, she could be retrained on the most up to date information and she would be able to get the job she had always dreamt of after all. Yet, it was even worse than college. She had to work part-time to be able to take the night classes. She either worked or studied; leaving only a few minutes a day to eat, sleep and bath. This was until some court bailiffs came banging to her door. The banks had been quick to be back to find the people that had disappeared and were now asking them to provide the past five years’ debt payment. All of her dreams had been shattered yet again.
Determined not to ask for help, Y/N stayed in New York and totally forgot about her dreams. Instead, she found another job at a bar-restaurant – one that paid better than the cashier part-time job she had until that – and worked there ever since, trying to pay off her initial student loan and the other loan she had had to take to be able to repay the requested five-years’ worth of debt in one go. She was now planning every spendings up to the last penny. She was living off diluted body and hair shower gel and all sorts of techniques to have the impression of having eaten a lot more than she had. Yet, it hadn’t been enough.
It was never enough…
Drying off her tears, she answered her phone and stuck it against her ear with her shoulder while she entered the building. She was quick to break the news to her sister. She kept her voice steady, not showing any emotions to shorten the conversation as much as possible. She did so as she collected her mail and then turned to take the stairs up to her apartment.
On the phone, Y/N didn’t see her neighbour coming down the stairs and eventually run straight into him. She would have fallen down the two steps she had just climbed if he hadn’t caught up by the arms at the very last moment.
"For fuck’s sake!" he sighed angrily. "Can’t you watch where you’re going?"
Y/N only answered by rolling her eyes. She picked up her phone from the floor; her sister was still on the line, calling after her. While she turned it to her, she discovered her screen totally shattered. She would have cried if she could have…
Without further ado, she put her phone back to her ear and continued to go up the stairs. Her neighbour – a guy that moved in a couple of months ago and that was hardly saying ‘hello’ the few times they had seen each other in the hall – huffed and without thinking nor turning back, Y/N flipped him off. She would probably be ashamed of this later, but at that moment, she couldn’t care less of what he would think of her.
She couldn’t care less about anything anyway.
20th of December
Two days later, as Y/N was slowly accepting the fact that she would not be with her family for Christmas, she encountered her favourite neighbour in the hall again.
She had just gotten home from work and was collecting a parcel in her letterbox. This was a present for her sister that she wouldn’t be able to give her in the end and for which she couldn’t even pay stamp to ship it to her home. She would be lucky if she could return it and get a few dollars back.
As she was closing her letterbox, her neighbour entered the hall. Feeling a little guilty about the other night, Y/N’s first thought was to apologies for her behaviour. A quick look at the guy and the constant frown on his face made her swallow her saliva; hard.
He was good-looking though, with his blue-piercing eyes and full lips. The stubble on his chin –always of the same length whenever she would see him – let her think that he was taking care of himself; though the way he dressed was clearly demonstrating he wasn’t really on point on the fashion side. If he wasn’t always so… whatever he always was… she probably would have liked him. With his grumpy looks, he reminded her of this movie character she liked so much when she was a kid: the Grinch.
In silence, Y/N watched from the corner of her eyes as he also checked his mailbox, a couple of meters away from hers. After gathering the few letters in the box, he sighed and abruptly closed the door.
“What now?” he asked as he turned to her.
Y/N jumped to the tone of his voice. He was clearly annoyed at her while she hadn’t done anything. At least that day.
“No need to be a dick,” she quickly bit back, annoyance building up in her voice as much as his, and he huffed again – this seemed to be something he would do a lot. She had to take a quick deep breath before continuing: "I wanted to… apology for the other night.”
The words nearly burnt her mouth as she was saying them. It cost her a lot to admit her wrongs, yet his cold eyes only started at her, and he spoke no words back. She didn’t know how she wanted him to react, but his absence of reaction startled her, and only made her want to justify herself further.
“I wasn’t in a good mood,” she added.
“You are not the only one to have bad days,” was all he said before leaving.
Taken aback, Y/N watched as he climbed the stairs and disappeared out of his sight. She couldn’t believe how much of a jerk he had been. She swore this was the last time she would ever speak to him.
22nd of December
Y/N rarely overslept.
The only reason for that was that she didn’t sleep a lot. Ever since the blip, she had trouble finding sleep and then, staying asleep. It was like her body had a big fear of missing out on everything and anything, so it just let her sleep the number of hours she needed to keep going. She would have thought that with the double shifts she was doing, she would have slept better, but she didn’t. Instead, she stayed wide awake in her bed, fixing the ceiling, eyes heavy with tiredness. She had all this time to think about the misery of her own life.
However, it seemed that night that the tiredness had gotten the most out of her, and as she never set an alarm clock – because she rarely needed, she was now going to be late for work. She took only a couple of minutes to get ready, drink a coffee and brush her teeth all at the same times. Ten minutes later, she was already grabbing her stuff and putting her coat on.
As she opened the door of her apartment, she came face-to-face with her neighbour going up the stairs. They both immediately stopped in their tracks.
He looked at her. Her eyes still puffy from the fact she had still been sleeping less than fifteen minutes ago. Hair all other the place even if she had put hair clips in them to keep them into place. She had dressed up in such a hurry, the shirt of her uniform was halfway in and halfway out of her pants.
She looked at him looking at her. With the same frown on his face and the same cold glance. Just this time, the circles around his eyes were darker than ever and he looked much more tired than her. For the first time, she saw something vulnerable in him, a flash of sadness in the blankness of his face.
They looked at one another. So different yet somehow similar. With their inability to sleep properly, the memories that kept them up at night and their resentment about this life that had been taken away from them. Both of them with all their trauma and weaknesses. With their constant melancholy and sometimes, their good days.
They looked at each other some more and then they both continued on with their day.
24th of December
Y/N was just settling on her couch – which was also her bed – in front of the TV, wrapped in her fluffy blanket and two pairs of fleece socks on her feet when she heard a knock on her door. She froze instantly; bad memories coming back to her in an instant. She had been visited a few times by different people always banging on her door at sunrise; each time, it never had ended well. Per pure reflex, she held her breath as if whoever was on her front door would be able to hear her - the walls were probably thin, but not this thin.
After counting to ten and not hearing anything else, she relaxed into her sofa. It was probably just her imagination at this point, this was how tired she was. She reached for the remote on the coffee table and started an episode of her favourite TV show. This was when she heard a knock for the second time. One time too many for her.
This time she paused her show and got on her feet to have a look. Sulking for the five steps it took her to go to the front door, she opened it bluntly and was surprised to find her neighbour ‘The Grinch’.
He looked at her, surprised and she looked at him, probably even more surprised. Her gaze turned instinctively to her feet and the fluffy pyjamas she was wearing. She couldn’t help the heat crawling up her neck, so she looked back to him and her eyes got stuck on his hands. One of flesh and one of metal. Holding a metal box between them. That he was now holding up to her.
She frowned.
“For you.”
Her eyes moved up to his face again, to check if he was serious or not. She could have fallen asleep the minutes her show started and be dreaming; though from how cold her feet were, she was pretty sure she wasn’t. Nothing on his face indicated he was joking – he didn’t seem to be the type to joke anyway. He wasn’t actually frowning, but he still had a small wrinkle in between his two eyebrows from all the frowning he was doing that somehow it still looked like he was. She wouldn’t say the expression on his face was friendly, but it had something that for once made her not want to close the door on his face.
Perhaps, it was because of the straight line his lips were in. They which were was usually so pink and so… luscious. From that, she couldn’t tell what he was feeling right now – was he nervous? Or simply contemplating all his life choices now that he was in front of her. She knew it was costing him to be here in front of her.
She looked back at the metal box in his hands; was he really expecting her to take it?
“My ma’ used to cook cookies for our neighbours,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His glance adverted to the ceiling as if he was looking for the right words to continue: “I thought maybe… this was a good way to apologize. For the other day…and all the times before that.”
This time, it was Y/N’s time to stop frowning – she would have to check later if she had also a wrinkle. She took the box he was handing her and nodded, in some sort of way to mean ‘thank you’. The box was heavier than she had expected it to be. She wondered if he had made them himself, like his ‘ma’ was probably doing.
“My name is Bucky by the way.” Was all he said before leaving her like that, a box of cookies in her hands.
25th of December
Working at a restaurant had its own perks. One of them being that Y/N could have at least one meal a day in the form of the staff meal. And on special occasions – like today – she could even get home with leftovers, most of them she would normally stock up in her freezer to make sure she had something to eat in the next couple of days.
That day though, when she climbed up the stairs, she didn’t stop on the second floor where her apartment was. Instead, her feet got her to the fourth floor, on the second door on the right. One she had never been to and yet, she knew exactly where to find it.
She didn’t hesitate one second before knocking, though the few seconds she had to wait she did get cold feet and wonder if it was really a good idea. Bucky did have gifted her handmade cookies – she had eaten a couple after he left while watching her favourite show, and it was the best she probably ever had. However, it did not mean they were now friends. They were just two adults, seeing each other in the hall of their building sometimes. That was all… Then, why was she so damned pulled towards him?
Bucky opened the door when she was about to turn around. He had a blank tank top and black pants on. Thankfully, he did not seem to be in the middle of a Christmas dinner and his apartment was pretty quiet behind him. His usual frown had been replaced by raised eyebrows. He was surprised to see her, on Christmas day, in her work clothes, at his door. He would have probably expected her to be in her family, with her friends or boyfriend, even. Instead, she had nowhere better to be than in front of him, right now.
They stared at each other for what seemed to be a long time, before his cat – Alpine as he called after, while trying to stop it to get outside his apartment – came to rub itself against her legs. She immediately lowered herself to scratch it behind the ear and Bucky observed them without a word. His cat, who was usually more than a little fearful of people it didn't know, was on the verge of lying down on the floor and beg for belly rubs.
“Are you on your own too?” was the only thing he spoke, and she got back on her feet, suddenly remembering why she was actually here.
“Wanna share?” she asked while showing him the paper bag in which she had the leftovers from the restaurant.
His eyes scanned her face a little too long for Y/N’s liking that she grew nervous. She felt like an idiot, believing… whatever – she wasn’t even sure she was believing. She was just lonely, having been alone for too long. The only people she hung out with would be her colleagues, on her work time – and they had taken a drink together after work a time or two. Most of them were students or only planning to be in the job for a couple of months before bouncing back. None of them was like her, as if she had been the only one to disappear off of the surface of the earth.
Over the last few years, she had repeated to herself – over and over again – that she didn’t need anyone. It was true somehow; she was fine alone. It was just that today she wanted a break from all of this, and she had thought of him. Because she had seen the veil before his eyes. She had seen it on hers before. She knew why… He was just like her. And perhaps, she had thought, they could be alone together. That was what they called the Christmas spirit, no?
“I mean, I’ve got more than enough, and you can have some. We don’t need to eat together. Totally fine if you wish to be alone.” She overexplained, speaking so fast he couldn’t say a word, even if he wanted to. She was just going to go home anyway. It was probably already late in the day; she would eat some food because she could – it was a victory on its own. “And you’ve probably already eaten, it’s fine. Don’t mind me.”
She was going to turn around, but he stepped on the side, making room for her to get in. Alpine instantly trotted in, its tail straight as a pick.
“I’ve got Gin,” was all he said again. A man of a few words he was.
And that was how they would both of them spent their first Christmases with someone in years. They would drink gin, try a bit of every leftover Y/N had gotten and finish by some kind of French pastry neither of them knew how it was named. They would speak for hours – or sort of, it was a few words here and there, making sentences altogether. They would have a good time and when it was time for Y/N to go home, she would suggest doing it again and Bucky would smile in response. A soft smile that would warm her heart forever. A smile that illuminated his whole face and probably his life.
And perhaps that was what exactly what she had come to find that night.
Some warmth.
#lea's writing#jbb#lea's 2024 christmas series#christmas fic#bucky x reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes one shot#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x you#bucky angst#bucky barnes x female reader#mcu imagine#mcu oneshot#marvel imagine#marvel one shot
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i love your writing so much, thank you for everything <3 (especially for post!prison spencer and sunshine!reader!!!) i was thinking about spencer and r are hanging out. still, no one from the team knows yet. she saved his contact as “cutie pie” or some other pet name (and maybe even he doesn't know it yet), and he calls, but someone from the team picks up her cell phone before she does and answers like “uuuuh who are you, 'cutie pie?'” and the spencer was "what???? who's cutie pie???"
Spencer’s at home sick. He’d come over before his fever set in and he’d been delirious by the time he crawled into your bed.
You wanted to stay home too, to take care of him and make him chicken noodle soup that would’ve been too spicy or make him take his medicine- he can be a bit of a baby about the liquid stuff.
Instead, you had to come to work.
You left medicine on your bedside, a large glass of water and a couple sleeves of saltines for Spencer.
At work you’d been texting back and forth when he woke up, giggling and smiling much to Luke and Matt’s confusion.
“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Luke asks and you lock your phone, holding it against your chest.
“Just someone I’m talking to.”
It’s the wrong thing to say because just as the words leave you Penelope is in the bullpen and you look up at her like you’ve been caught red handed.
It’s not that you and Spencer are trying to keep your relationship a secret. It’s that you’ve only just started dating- maybe a month. You know Penelope will feel betrayed for a few minutes before asking for updates.
“Who is this someone?” She asks and you shrug, not wanting to say too much.
Your phone pings again and Matt raises his eyebrow- he’s come to be like a protective brother to you.
“Is it serious?” He asks, watching you bite your lip to hide your smile.
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
Penelope squeals, your phone rings. You freeze for a moment when your phone announces, “Baby.”
She lunges before you do, snatching your phone from your hands and then answering.
“Who are you, ‘baby’?” Penelope says and you bite your lip, hoping Spencer is at least a bit coherent.
“Put it on speaker, Garcia.” Luke says and you shriek, apologies already circling your head for Spencer.
Penelope does as asked, and repeats her question. “Well mystery Baby, who are you?”
Spencer’s voice is hoarse and confused as he repeats, “Who’s baby? Penelope is that you? Where’s Y/n?”
The entire bullpen goes quiet, a crippling sort of silence that is longing to be shattered. It goes unshattered and stretches till the tension makes the room taut.
“I’m here, I’ll call you back Spence.” You say quickly, body hot as you rush to hang up.
“So, the boy genius huh?” Penelope says, a chuckle breaking through your group.
“I knew it!” Matt said, opening his hand as Luke fishes out his wallet.
“What did you know, Simmons?” You ask, watching Luke place what looks to be a couple hundred dollars in Matt’s hand.
“That you and the good doctor were seeing each other.” He says like it’s no big deal. “I knew it from the second day when you guys started doing your crosswords together.”
You blow a raspberry, not even you knew you were going to end up with Spencer.
“Rossi’s going to love this gos!” Penelope says, rushing out with a wave of her arm.
“We are happy for you, you’re cute together.” Luke compliments, laughing when you hide behind your hands.
When the drama dies down you text Spencer, I think everyone is now aware that we’re together. Oops
Spencer texts back, more coherent than you’d thought he’d be given the temperature of his fever: That’s not so bad. At least now I can kiss you between the crosswords.
You roll your eyes, You already do that, genius.
Spencer’s response has you a mess of emotions. So, baby huh? I didn’t think you’d be fond of that one.
Go take your medicine and get some rest, Spencer.
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