#set some time before cell phones
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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 Iâm 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.
âMimicry? You must be mistaken. Even if my influence has affected their person, surely there are only positive developmentsâ == Riddle denies any changes if confronted. In truth, heâs well aware of how much youâve helped him grow. Itâs the opposite accusation that spikes concern. Riddle does not want others thinking youâre 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.
âAha - really? I didnât notice at all. Okay. Okay, I picked up on a few hints. Whatâs so wrong with them taking after me? Itâs cute, right?â == 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. Treyâs used to playing the respectable sort, and finds it endearing that youâre taking his good notes to heart. In truth, most of Treyâs mimicry is intentional. Heâs a flexible guy who doesnât mind altering his habits to fit your needs. Easier this way, yâknow?
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.
âAwe~ SRSLY?! Thatâs fresh news to my ears but good, right? Ne, are there any clips or pics? I need my evidence, yâsee. Especially if my cutie is off taking notes from their one and only. Câmon, spill the tea!â == Cheeky Cater is well aware of whatâs happening. Heâd humor anyone out for some light teasing - after all, he isnât by your side at all hours. His walls are probably the second most difficult in all of campus to bypass, so heâs both sweetened and nerved to see you picking up on his mannerisms. Thatâs 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:
âI owe youâ 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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Tommy's Two Hundred
From the moment Tommy had joined the gay dating app, heâd 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 theyâd 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 didnât take more than a few seconds for Tommyâs bubble to burst, leaving him stuck on a dull date with another boring Mr Average.Â
As Valentineâs 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 wasnât being plain enough with people about what he was really after. Heâd 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.Â
Nothing. Sure, his profile had had lots of views, but no one had felt compelled enough by it to reach out.Â
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 didnât 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 personâs 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:Â
âNice profile.âÂ
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.Â
âThanks,â he typed back, determined that he would never be rude enough to ignore anyone who messaged him.
âIf youâre really as submissive as you claim, Iâd be very interested in meeting you,â 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 didnât 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 didnât 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. âTommy?â
Tommy didnât 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.Â
âIâm Hunter,â the guy smiled, reaching out his large hand to shake.
Tommy couldnât help admitting to the fact that he hadnât believed Hunterâs profile pictures to be real, and Hunter nodded, saying that he had been told the same thing many times. He seemed pleased by Tommyâs 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 Tommyâs 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.Â
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.
âI wanted to discuss our sexual interests,â Hunter stated next, steering the conversation when Tommy seemed to be taking it down a more mundane path. âThe domination and submission.â
Tommy felt his cheeks getting hot. There were another two couples close by; probably within earshot. But Hunter didnât seem to care in the slightest.Â
âWhat do you want to know?â Tommy replied excitedly.
âActually, I think it's time that you listened to me instead,â Hunter replied sternly, putting Tommy in his place perfectly. âItâs lucky that I saw your profile as I donât use that app much for meeting guys.â
âWhere do you usually meet guys?â Tommy asked, sensing that Hunter had paused for him to ask just such a question.
âA few places,â Hunter shrugged, flicking through his cell phone. âThese are some of my previous subs,â 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. âDo you notice anything in particular about the guys I sleep with?â 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. âWell, youâre soâŚâ he mumbled, gesturing towards Hunterâs powerful body and chest. âAnd yet, these guys here⌠thereâre a bitâŚâ
âTheyâre fatties,â Hunter stated for him; obviously not one to dress his language up. âI need you to just come out with it in the future when I ask you questions,â he stated frankly. âThatâs the way I work. No bullshit.â
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.Â
âWhy fatties?â Tommy asked, hoping that mirroring Hunterâs language would please him.
âBecause fatties turn me on,â Hunter replied plainly. âI work hard to build my body up. So when I fuck a sub, I need him to be soft and doughy for me.â He reached over to the plate of half eaten cake in front of Tommy and gave it a gentle nudge.Â
Tommyâs eyes bulged. Hunter wasnât kidding when he said he didnât like to bullshit. His meaning couldnât have been clearer. âSo, you bought me the cake becauseâŚâ 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. âYou bought me the cake to⌠soften me up.â
Hunter smiled for the first time in a few minutes and he leaned in, putting his giant hand back on Tommyâs knee. âThatâs right,â he nodded, seeming to be genuinely delighted that Tommy had been frank with him. âSubmission 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.â
Feeling his heart beating faster and his palms sweating simply from hearing Hunterâs deep voice speaking at such a volume about things, without a care in the world, Tommy nodded. âI agree,â he answered. âSubmission should be a lifestyle.â
âIâm glad you said that,â Hunter nodded again, his eyes now fixed on the still half eaten cake.
âOh,â 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.
âIâm not going to lie,â Hunter stated, nodding subtly with approval. âI think this could work between us.â
âYou do?â Tommy shot back with so much delight that he immediately wanted to punch himself in the face for it. âThatâs cool,â he nodded, trying to seem more relaxed.
âWeâll meet at my place next time,â Hunter told him, draining his coffee as if this interview was already over. âIâll message you on the app.â
âOkay,â Tommy replied, surprised by how fast the date was over with.Â
Hunter leaned in. âAnd make sure you finish that cake,â he whispered into his ear. âEvery last crumb.â
Having Hunter so close sent exciting electrical pulses through Tommyâs brain: the smell of his delicious aftershave, those perfect lips so near to his face. âI will,â he replied sincerely, turning to look Hunter in the face in the hope that they may end with a kiss.
Hunter held Tommyâs gaze, studying him. But Tommy knew better than to be the one to initiate a kiss. âI know you will,â the hunk replied after a few seconds. âYouâll be a good boy,â 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 hadnât come across someone so into domination that they had insisted their date consume cake for them. But just because it was a little different, didnât mean that he had to view it negatively. After all, heâd got quite a kick out of complying, hadnât he?
âCome on in,â smiled Hunter a few days later, opening the door to his apartment.Â
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.
âRule number one,â Hunter began. âWhen you come here, you take your clothes off as soon as you get inside.â
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. Heâd taken so long to pick out his outfit for their second date. What a waste of time that was!
âCome on, quickly!â 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 Tommyâs underwear, holding them up as if for inspection, and gripping the small waist between his fingers. âCute,â 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.
âSmells delicious,â 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.Â
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. âI enjoyed our date, Tommy. I really did. I think youâre a nice guy and I believe that you would make a great sub for me.â
Tommy smiled back, pleased; feeling the need to tuck his hardness between his thighs whilst Hunter was being so friendly.
âBut if Iâm 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 thatâs 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.â
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. âYou want me to eat this for you, donât you?â 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. âI want to see how far youâre willing to go for me.âÂ
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.Â
Chuckling slightly at the obviously smitten expression on Tommyâs face, the large guy leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. âAre you ready to do this for me?â he whispered into his guestâs ear, before picking Tommyâs small hands up and placing them on his strapping chest.
The hot, sweet breath on Tommyâs neck, combined with the musky scent of the jockâs body, so firm and strong, made him want to climax there and then. âYes,â he replied obediently.
Hunter sat back again with a smirk, making Tommyâs hands fall back down. He knew exactly the effect he was having upon the boy. He reached down to the guyâs stomach and, with the back of one finger, he stroked across the light six pack that showed there. âGoodbye, little buddy,â 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.Â
Armed with only a fork and a spoon, Tommy was expected to feast on all of it.
Luck was on Tommyâs side; he hadnât 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. Heâd had a laid back attitude the entire time that Tommy had been there, as if he wouldnât 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 manâs 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 Hunterâs gym shorts. How incredible! Had Tommy really excited the dominant man that much?
âYouâre doing well,â Hunter praised him; his voice deeper and more gravely than Tommy had heard it before. âIâm impressed.â
Tommyâs 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. âThatâs it. Iâm done!â 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. âWhere did you learn to eat like that?â he asked, seemingly flabbergasted.
Tommy quietly dredged up a burp to relieve some of the pressure and shook his head. âDonât know,â he shrugged. âIâve always had a pretty good appetite.â
Hunter still seemed unable to comprehend what he had witnessed. âIâve seen some seriously fucking fat boys eat less than half of what you just put away.â
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. âI donât know what to tell you,â he shrugged, a little embarrassed. âIâve always had a very fast metabolism.â
âI can soon destroy that,â Hunter growled, giving away just how horny he was. âNatural greed like this⌠It's incredible. And very rare!âÂ
âThanks,â Tommy smiled,unsure what else to say.Â
âWhy donât you stay here tonight?â Hunter asked next, wrapping a big arm over Tommyâs shoulders, like a snake about to suffocate its prey. âI know you donât have work in the morning. I can make you breakfast.â
A mixture of relief and arousal swept over Tommy. Heâd made such an effort to eat, heâd all but forgotten the fact that heâd need to catch the bus home later.
âIâll make it worth your while,â 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 Tommyâs 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.
âCome on Greedy Boy,â Hunter teased him. âLetâs go take a shower togetherâŚâ
âI canât come next weekend,â Tommy grinned, addressing his coworkers six weeks later. âIâm away with my boyfriend.âÂ
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 parentsâ lounge.Â
âHeâs hot!â blasted one of them straight away.
âHe looks like he should be on a catwalk!â 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 âboy next doorâ act Hunter laid on astonishingly thick for all of Tommyâs 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.
âYou havenât really told me much about these friends of yours weâre going to meet this weekend,â Tommy pondered, sitting in the passenger seat and noting how far out into the country they had gone on his online map.
âWell, why bother? You got along with all my other friends,â Hunter chuckled, obviously keeping something from Tommy about this trip.
Tommy sighed. âYeah, but they were all co-workers and old school buddies. They donât know⌠all the sides of your personality,â he replied diplomatically.
âWell, letâs just say, this weekend will be good for us,â Hunter smiled, leaning back and driving smoothly. âThese guys are sexy as fuck, and we all like to play together. Iâve been excited to show you off to them since we first started going out. â
âShow me off?â Tommy asked. âHow so?â
âJust you wait and see,â 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 Tommyâs 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. Heâd 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 Hunterâs extreme, peak physical condition would have been expected to associate with. But, then again, Hunter had always said that he preferred fat guys.
âAnd this is my new boyfriend, Tommy,â Hunter finally stated, pulling Tommy forward to greet them all.
There was a look of surprise on all the guysâ 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.
âThat was a little weird,â Tommy whispered as the pair of them went up to the bedroom that had been assigned to them: thre master suite no less. âDid they not know that youâre dating?â
âNo, they knew,â Hunter smirked, undressing himself and slipping on his tiny swim shorts to head out to the pool. âI date fat guys, remember. Iâve fucked and dominated every one of them in my time,â he continued, checking his perfect hair in the mirror. âSo when I told them I was dating the fucking greediest, sexiest guy Iâd ever met, theyâd probably assumed you were a lot larger.â
âWait. So do they know that youâŚâ Tommy asked.
âThese guys know everything. Thatâs 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,â he grinned, striding over to Tommy and kissing him. âNow, get changed,â he ordered, throwing some swim shorts at him.
âLooking good!â growled one of the men as Hunter led the way down the stairs. âIâve never seen you looking so chiselled.â
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. âI could say the same to you, buddy,â he nodded. âThis overhang has really gotten a lot bigger since the last time I saw you.â
Tommy inhaled slightly with shock at Hunterâs rudeness. He looked for signs of offense, until he saw that the man instead looked mightily pleased with himself. âPaul has been feeding me a big tub of ice cream before bed every night,â he pointed over at another large bellied guy in the corner, who was obviously his partner.Â
âWell, itâs really working,â Hunter smiled at him, giving him a deep, horny kiss. âIâm doing the same with this little guy,â he continued, pulling Tommy closer to him. âHe was still living with his parents when I met him, but Iâve got him with me most of the time these days. Thatâs making things easier. Ice cream before bed is one of the things I started him on straight away,â he stated proudly.
The eyes of the men studied Tommyâs body in his swim shorts.
âIâm having to break down his incredibly fast metabolism. Itâs not ideal. But if I turn him around, you can see,â Hunter explained, spinning a light and clueless Tommy around and bending him down so that his small butt faced the men instead. âThereâs a little more softness forming around his lower back andâŚâ he continued, dropping Tommyâs swim shorts slightly so that his butt cheeks showed, â...his glutes and thighs are filling up a lot more than when I first met him.â
Hunter tapped Tommyâs butt, creating a short ripple.
âDo you see it?â he asked them all.
With his head down, facing away from them, Tommy didnât know if the guys had nodded in agreement.Â
âDo you think heâs going to be quite bottom heavy then?â another of the men asked, clearly feeling that Tommyâs butt was wothy of discussion.
âPossibly,â Hunter agreed. âItâs a bit too early to tell. There arenât 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 heâs quit the gym to spend more time with me, so that should speed things up a little.â
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 Tommyâs crotch during their conversation about him.
Hunter soon noticed as well and joined in the laughing, patting Tommy on his butt proudly. âHeâs a kinky little fucker too!â he smirked, repositioning himself behind Tommy, rolling his big strong arms around the smaller guyâs shoulders and gently rubbing his crotch into his loverâs rear.
âI take it heâs a sub?â Paul asked from the corner.
âOf course,â Hunter shot back, gently nibbling Tommyâs ear. âOne of the most obedient Iâve ever had,â he whispered. âYouâre a good boy, arenât you Tommy?â he teased, reaching one arm down to stroke the hardness in Tommyâs shorts, even with all the other guys there.
Tommyâs head flopped back against Hunterâs shoulder. In this situation, he felt so crazily out of control, yet it was arousing him in ways he could not explain.
âAnyway, come on, Piggy,â Hunter finally ordered, pulling his large hand out from Tommyâs crotch. âLetâs go try out the pool.â He tapped his lover on his butt, admiring the slight flutter that spread into the guyâs thighs. âBut remember, not too much exercise for you. I donât want you to spoil all the fast food calories I bought you earlier.â
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.
âYou finished already, Danny?â Hunter asked the significantly overweight man across the table. âTommy will be nowhere near finished. Heâs got at least another twenty minutes in him,â he boasted.
âIt is extraordinary,â one of the others nodded in agreement, seeing how easily Tommy was packing it all in. âIs this how he usually is?â
âOh, absolutely,â 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. âHe can go like this for every meal: breakfast, lunch, dinner⌠Heâs also a great little snacker as well. I need to eat frequently throughout the day to keep this physique up,â he explained, tensing his large biceps. âSo itâs easy to get this one eating with me, and it still never spoils his appetite when dinner time rolls around.â
âHow are his family feeling about him dating a feeder?â Danny asked, eyes still on Tommy as he continued to consume.
âItâs still early days,â Hunter replied. âHeâs 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! Iâm sure the idea that Iâm fattening their son wonât cross their minds for some time yet.â
âWhatâs his recovery time like?â Dannyâs slightly slimmer husband asked next.
âPretty good,â Hunter nodded again. âAfter heâs done here, Iâll take him upstairs, jack him off and then let him sleep for a couple of hours. Then heâll be back up and ready for something else before bed,â he laughed, rubbing his boyâs back sweetly.
Tommy listened to it all as he continued to eat. Below the table, his hardness was weeping into his swim trunks. It wasnât 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.
âAre you struggling there, Fat Boy?â 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 Hunterâs 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. âIâm not as sprightly as I used to be.â
Hunter chuckled and nodded in agreement. âHarry has done an awesome job on you. All that fresh fat in that big gutâŚâ 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.
âI think youâve got a good one there too,â 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. âHe will be. He just needs time to get into my ways.â
âHe looks pretty obedient to me,â Jack chuckled.
âOh, definitely! Like I said, heâs one of the best subs Iâve ever had. Decent blow job skills too,â he sighed, really starting to feel Tommyâs work now. âI just need to take down this metabolism of his.â He gazed down at the back of Tommyâs head bobbing up and down in his crotch. âI need every part of him to submit to me.â
Jack nodded knowingly, trotting over and rubbing Tommyâs butt as well. âDonât worry, Hunter. I know you. Youâll have him under control very soon now...â
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 hadnât 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.
âHunter, I need you to come to my work,â Tommy whispered down the phone.
âWhy?â Hunter asked, clearly in the middle of a training session with one of his clients at his gym.
âI bent down to pick up my pen andâŚâ
âYou ripped your pants,â Hunter finished for him. âAbout time. Did anyone see?â
âNo,â Tommy replied with relief.
âThatâs a shame,â Hunter sighed in disappointment. âAnd now you want me to drop everything and head over to deliver some larger pants for you?â
âYes, please!â 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 Melissaâs honeymoon or Franâs new grandchildren; this charming character that he portrayed with ease.
âWell, I must go, ladies,â he smiled, walking towards Tommyâs 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. âHow do you put up with such boring people?â he sighed, looking straight at Tommy.
âThey absolutely adore you,â Tommy reminded him.
âI know. But theyâre still fucking boring,â 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 Tommyâs pants, mercilessly ripping them open further.
Tommyâs hands slipped back surveying the damage. Now, even his underwear had been compromised as he felt cool air against his increasingly fleshy glutes. âPlease tell me you brought my new pants,â he blasted in panic.
âI did,â Hunter nodded, rifling through his backpack and showing them briefly. âBut itâs going to cost you,â he sniggered, now pulling out his hardness from his shorts and nodding for Tommy to lie himself on the table.
âBut Iâm in work!â Tommy shot back.
âAll the more reason for you to stop complaining and get a move on then,â the man laughed back, stroking his thick hardness to warm it up for Tommyâs 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: Hunterâs 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 Tommyâs 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 didnât need chewing straight down. Hunter didnât 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.
âYes, weâd love to come over for dinner sometime, Christine,â Hunter smiled politely, both he and Tommy knowing full well that it would never happen. Hunter wouldnât waste his free time socialising with any of these people, unless there was something in it for him.
âWhart a nice boy he is!â Christine marvelled, standing at the main entrance of the office block, watching Hunter drive off. âSo polite and gentle!â
Swishing his tongue around his mouth and still tasting nothing but cheesecake, Tommy nodded in agreement. âHeâs the best.â
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 Hunterâs 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.Â
âSomeone has been eating well!â 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 boyfriendâs gains.
âIâm guessing you defeated that fast metabolism of his?â Danny laughed, seeing more and more of Tommyâs shape as he removed the layers of winter clothing.
âDid you ever doubt me?â Hunter smirked back, grabbing both of their bags to take them upstairs; never wanting Tommy to burn any calories unnecessarily.
âWhat do you weigh now?â 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.
âWeâre up 70lbs since you last saw him,â Hunter beamed, draping his big arm over Tommyâs shoulders. âI bet you can hardly recognise him with these chubby cheeks, huh boys?â
âI suppose the sweatpants come in handy these days?â Eddie asked, nodding at Tommyâs casual attire as he stood beside his muscular boyfriend.
âUm, I guess so,â Hunter pondered. âTo be honest, I donât let him wear clothes when heâs at home. Do I?â he asked Tommy in an attempt to include him, even a little, in this discussion about him.
Tommy shook his head.
âAs you can probably see, his tits are starting to come in real nicely,â Hunter continued, lifting Tommyâs shirt for the boys to see. âLovehandles are fully in shape now, and the back fat,â he rambled on, spinning Tommy around for their viewing pleasure. âIâve had to rescue him twice in work now after heâs split his pants,â he laughed, rolling the sweatpants down so that the guys could see the transformation that had taken place in Tommyâs glutes. âAnd, best of allâŚâ he went on, rapidly spinning Tommy like a ragdoll again to face them once more, âCheck this outâŚâ
The boys marvelled in unison as Hunter grabbed a thick wedge of fat that had amassed at the top of Tommyâs groin.Â
âItâs hard to believe how much fat there is here, considering heâs only 220lbs at the moment,â Hunter grinned. âItâs incredible!â
âWell, we can help add to that this weekend,â Danny smiled. âItâs your first holiday season as a fatty,â he nodded at Tommy. âThatâs got to be quite exciting?â
âItâs also our first one together,â Tommy replied, falling back into Hunterâs large chest.
âWhat are you guys doing for the big day?â Eddie asked next.
âWell, we told Tommyâs parents that we were going to my family. And then we said the exact opposite to my parents. So, basicallyâŚâ Hunter smirked, pulling his lover into a cute sideways cuddle, â...this little piggy is going to be spending the day sitting on my cock whilst I feed him absolutely everything Iâve been preparing for him for the last month.â
The guys all looked at each other, clearly astounded and secretly aroused by the idea.
âHave you had much backlash from Tommyâs family now heâs getting so overweight?â Danny questioned them later, sitting at the table, waiting for Tommy to finish his meal.
âNot so much,â Hunter replied. âNow his face has started to balloon, people are certainly a lot more aware of it. But his parents arenât 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.â He straightened up, about to do an impression of his father and put on a dull, stuck-up voice. âYour mother and I know exactly what youâre doing,â he began at a fast pace, poking his finger out like a school teacher. âYouâve 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 youâve ever brought home, and youâve got to start getting your kicks some other way. One that doesnât involve him getting so out of shape!â
The men all laughed in unison.
âI just tell them Iâm going to set up a diet plan for Tommy in the New Year,â he chuckled; setting the rest of them off.Â
âWell, I can imagine exactly what sort of âdiet planâ youâll have for him,â Danny smirked, knowing his friend all too well.
Hunter nodded and laughed along with them. âYeah, this fat boy is so fucking screwed!â
Their conversation rolled on. All the while, Tommy continued to eat.
âGood boy!â Hunter sang moments later as Tommy finally put his knife and fork down; his plate cleared. âWas that tasty? That lamb dish is one of Eddieâs most fattening recipes. I should know. I taught him how to make it.â
Tommy nodded his head; utterly stuffed.
âDo you want me to take you upstairs for your pleasure time?â he asked the blubbery boy. âItâs part of his routine,â he explained to the guys. âOr would you rather have it here, so that the other fat boys can see you?â
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; âOver there.â
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.
âAre you a good piggy for me?â Hunter whispered into his ear, making Tommy moan and nod. âYouâve put on so much fat for me this year. Did you see how shocked the guys were earlier? Theyâre all looking at you now.â
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 Tommyâs pointed nipple.
Hunter looked across with approval. âPiggy loves that now his tits have come in. He canât 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 Tommyâs stomach fat, as if hardly believing how quickly it had developed.
âYou see, youâre the star of the show, Piggy!â Hunter whispered into his loverâs ear.
Tommyâs breathing became a lot heavier as he felt his climax building.
âItâs alright, Piggy,â Hunter continued. âDonât hold back. You can show them what I taught you to do when you climax.â
Tommy looked into Hunterâs 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 Tommyâs 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. Heâd 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. Heâd 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.
Hunterâs bulking had also created the perfect excuse for Tommyâs 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. âMost evenings, Iâm cooking up food and portioning it out for myself for the next day,â he explained to Tommyâs aunt during their next visit. âBut 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.â
âOh, Tommy!â his aunt tutted with disappointment. âNo wonder youâve gained so much weight then. You need to exercise some self control.â
Hunter nodded in agreement, rubbing Tommyâs back supportively; as if this was all one great big intervention, aimed at helping him. The lies just rolled off the hunkâs tongue with such ease and heâd soon be laughing in the car at how easily they all swallowed them. âCome on, Fatty,â he whispered whilst still smiling and waving at Tommyâs extended family as they reversed off the driveway. âLook at their faces,â he laughed. âThey really think youâre going to turn things around this time.â
âMy aunt spoke to me a minute ago, before we left,â Tommy explained from the passenger seat. âShe told me that youâre the fitness expert and that I just need to do whatever you say.â
Hunter laughed victoriously. âGood old Auntie Paula!â he roared, waving one final time to her in particular. âIn 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, Iâm going to make sure your fat ass destroys it!â
The summer was coming to an end, but not before the pair of them drove up in Hunterâs new car to yet another rental place for a weekend with the boys.
âIâve got a surprise for everyone later,â Hunter joked, shirtless and with a strong arm draped over his flabby, newly 300lb boyfriend.â
âAnother one?â the boys joked, having just spoken at length about their shock at seeing the swell of Tommyâs 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. âWant to see something super cute?â he finally asked them, grinning with excitement.
âIs this our surprise?â Jack immediately replied, ready to be entertained.
Hunter nodded. âLook at these!â he cooed, suddenly holding up a tiny pair of underwear heâd been hiding behind a cushion.
The boys laughed. âAwh!â 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.
âThese belonged to Tommy when he came over to my apartment for the first time,â 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. âIâve not even washed them since.â
At this, all the guys began laughing in much the same way. They passed them around, each of them marvelling at their tiny size.
âYour butt used to be so small!â 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.
âThat was only seventeen months ago, boys!â Hunter shouted, raising his arms up in the air for the admiration he was owed. âThatâs how itâs done, my friends! Thatâs how a real feeder takes control and fattens his piggy!â
The boys all cheered in complete agreement. The transformation, the sheer speed of it all; it was breathtaking.
âHeâd never get them on these days,â Eddie laughed. âNot with the amount of fat he carries on his thighs, and that huge butt of his.â
Hunter pretended to ponder the idea; theatrically raising his thumb to his chin and rubbing. âHmm, do you really think so?â he asked, barely holding back his laughter. âI think we may need to test that hypothesis, donât you, boys?â he called out, rousing the crowd of fat men into a chorus of cheers.Â
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.Â
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 Hunterâs stern expression and his hardness throbbed uncontrollably.
âAs you all remember,â Hunter began, âa short while ago, I started dating a very handsome, a very athletic, and in fact, a very pretty-looking guyâŚâÂ
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.
âThe pride and joy of his parentsâŚâ Hunter sang, holding Tommyâs old underwear for them all to see again, â...college graduate, all round nice guy. He told me that he wanted to meet me. Practically begged me!â
Again, the other guys all laughed at that. Tommyâs first foolish mistake.
âHe told me that I was the sexiest guy he had ever seen in his life,â Hunter smirked, emphasising the language and slipping a finger up into the crotch of the old unerwear, showing where Tommyâs little erection would have once pushed against them. That got him one of the biggest laughs. âAnd he promised me one thingâŚâ Hunter went on. â...That he would do absolutely anything that I wanted him to.â
The guys all turned from looking at Hunter, to gazing with awe at Tommyâs fattened body: the rolls and blubber, stretch marks and sag. His complete submission was right there, before their very eyes. Hunterâs will, made flesh.
âWhat youâre 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,â Hunter declared, throwing the tiny material down at Tommyâs feet, filling his large chest with air and folding those enormous arms once more.Â
Again, the fat men all laughed to themselves, some reaching in again to poke Tommyâs fleshy stomach, or tap his naked, under-exercised butt.
âTaking them off was one of his first acts of submission to me. And now,â Hunter continued, âthis greedy, fat hog is about to try and put them back on for us.â 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.
âAre you ready, boys?â Hunter roared at them all; rousing another cheer of excitement. He was made for this. Showmanship was in his blood. âCount the fat fucker into it for meâŚâ 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.
âThreeâŚtwo⌠ONE!â 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.
âTake your time, Piggy. Get it right,â 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.Â
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.Â
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 guysâ 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.
âThank you. Youâre right,â he replied to their comments. âTwenty five years old, and look at it now!â
Finally, he came to stand in front of Tommy again, suddenly becoming falsely affectionate and stroking his submissiveâs large, chubby cheek. âIâm so glad I met you,â he told Tommy, speaking as much to the other men who were listening in.
âIâm glad I met you too,â Tommy replied, full of love and arousal for his dominant lover.
The men all laughed at Tommyâs 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 Tommyâs body, and yet the twenty-five year old was still hopelessly under the spell of his wicked boyfriend.
âGood. Iâm very glad,â Hunter nodded, lovingly tucking Tommyâs 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. âYou realise that youâre going to be fatter than everybody here soon, donât you?â he continued, explaining it to the fat boy like it was an exciting adventure they were embarking upon.
Tommy nodded.
âAnd thatâs okay is it, Piggy?â Hunter asked, playing up to the crowds.
âYes,â 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 sisterâs 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.
âI think itâs time you considered a new job. One where you can work from home,â Hunter declared, getting up after having fucked one of his new favourite places on his loverâs evolving body: the fat roll encompassing Tommyâs deep belly button.
Tommy nodded. âThat would certainly save me a lot of time,â he agreed.
âIt would also save you a lot of calories,â Hunter sighed impatiently. âI get so frustrated thinking of you burning off all my delicious breakfasts, trotting that giant ass of your back and forth to the photocopier.â
âBut the girls in my office would miss seeing you though,â Tommy joked.
Hunter rolled his eyes. âAnother good reason to quit,â he grumbled, chugging down one of his protein shakes and drying off his sweaty body with the towel they left under the bed.
âThey actually asked me to apply for a job at another one of our branches the other day,â Tommy considered, remembering how little he had considered it at the time. âTwo days in the office, three at home.â
âWhere?â Hunter asked with surprising interest.
âNorth. Weâd have to move. At least weâd be closer to Paul, Eddie, and the other guys. But then, it means uprooting your life as well.â
Hunter furrowed his eyebrows in disagreement. âLook at me!â he cried. âI could get a job at any fitness place I wanted. A move away is exactly the sort of thing that we need.â
âIt is?â 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 guyâs immense, muscular body made the bed sink slightly as Hunter sat next to him, making the fat in Tommyâs tummy jiggle and lean towards the powerful lover, as if attracted by him. âListen. Youâre now a very fat man. By this time next week, Iâll have you at over 350lbs,â Hunter explained. âBut 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 couldnât admit that being dominated would make him so fucking horny.â
Tommy chuckled. Hunterâs descriptions were blunt, but always very accurate.
âItâs time we went somewhere new. Where people donât know about how slim you used to be. Where they will see you the way that I do: just another fat, disgustingly overfed piggy.â
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.
âYou make sure that you look after him, wonât you?â Tommyâs 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.
âDonât worry, Angela. Heâs in good hands with me,â Hunter smiled back. Now that Tommy had grown wide enough, the big muscular man could rub his boyfriendâs disgustingly overgrown glutes the entire time he spoke to the guyâs mother, without anyone even noticing. âYour boy will be well taken care of.â
They all hugged, with Tommyâs parents telling him how proud they were about his big promotion, as well as how much they would miss him.
âDo you think they know? Even on some level?â Hunter asked as the pair of them got back into the truck. âThey 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!â he sniggered, surprised that no one had mentioned Tommyâs weight today; even with the daringly tight t-shirt he had made him wear.
âPerhaps, on some level,â 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. âBut, if Iâm honest, I donât think they really know whatâs going on.â
âSo fucking stupid! Itâs unbelieveable!â 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.
âGoodbye,â Tommy waved to his parents as they started pulling away. He knew they couldnât hear him. The music was far too loud.
âGoodbye,â Hunter joined in bitterly as he started to steer. âIâll look after your son. Iâm turning him into a big fat pig, yâknow!â he shouted loud and clear, although he would never be heard. âIâll have the fat fucker at 400lbs by the time you see him this Christmas! Goodbye, idiots!â
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.
âStill think this is the right thing?â Hunter asked moments later, reaching for Tommyâs 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.
âYes,â he smiled with certainty. âTwo hundred percent, yes!â
#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 đi 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
âAre you sure weâre in the right area? I donât see any businesses, only abandoned buildings. Wasnât the call for a business injury?â Â
âThis is where the address is showing on the gps, Y/n.â
âYeah, I get that,â you sighed, looking out the front window of the ambulance. âBut doesnât it just seem a little⌠off?âÂ
Ray, the driver, shrugged, â Guess weâll see when we get there. The building should be right around the corner.âÂ
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.Â
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.
âNo one move an inch.â The man with the gun growled menacingly, he had an Australian accent. âThis 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 donât⌠then you donât. Capisce?âÂ
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.Â
The men dropped the injured one onto the gurney then shut the doors harshly. âFirst things first,â The man with the gun said. âGive me your cell phones. No calling the cops.â The two of you shakily took out your phones and handed them over to the man. âAlright now do your jobs. Driver, head south towards Gangnam.âÂ
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 20âs. 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 wasnât 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 didnât save this man.Â
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.
 âNnnnhgggghhâ 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.Â
âShh easy, Hyune. The docs gonna patch you right up.â
Another one spoke up from behind you, âYeah youâre gonna be alright boss!âÂ
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.Â
âHyuneâ was banaged the best you could, but you would need a more steady place to work that wasnât speeding down a highway. When you conveyed that to the men around you, you were met with glares.Â
âNo, you will get it done here and now.â The one with the gun still out stated with a growl.Â
âC-chan..â Your patient croaked, âH-home..â 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. âThatâs an order.âÂ
The man with the gun, âChanâ, sighed. âOk, you got it.â Then he turned to you with hard eyes, âDo you know how to drive this thing?âÂ
You were taken aback, âUhh, no I donât.âÂ
He hummed, then looked at a man with copper colored hair and thin eyes, âYouâre up, maknae.â the both of them went over to where Ray was. âPull over in this cluster of buildings.â Ray did as he was told and pulled over behind a large factory.Â
The copper haired man reached behind him, âSorry man, this is the end of the road for you.âÂ
You couldnât help the gasp that left you at the man's words. âNo, please no!âÂ
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.Â
âTake this as a token of our appreciation for your help and your silence about this.âÂ
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.Â
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. âSorry, we canât have you knowing where our hideout is.âÂ
He sure didnât sound sorryâŚÂ
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.Â
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.
âShut it, Iâm just helping you get out.â 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 âHyuneâ 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.Â
Chan threw a pair of rubber gloves at you, âGet to work doc.âÂ
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 thatâs what you told yourself as you got to work removing the bullet from this very good looking man.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âI-iâm done.â Damnit, you didnât mean to stutter. âHe just needs to rest and heal for a while. I gave him some morphine for the pain so itâs imperative that he relaxes to avoid further risk.âÂ
The blonde one was by his side in an instant, grabbing his hand and checking him over. âHear that, Jin? Youâre gonna be fine.â Hyune tried to lift his head up but he was lightly pushed back down by the blonde. âNuh uh you have to rest.âÂ
âFelix..â He mumbled and tried to speak but it was coming out so quietly you couldnât hear what was said, you only saw the brow raise from âFelixâ at what Hyune was saying.
âUhh yeah, ok. Whatever you say.â 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.Â
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.Â
âYou saved me..â He started, staring directly into your gaze. âYou must be an angel.âÂ
âUhh.â You felt your face heat up despite the small tinge of fear that still remained inside you. âNo, mâ just a doctor. My name is Y/n.âÂ
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.Â
âYouâre funny. I like you.â 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. âBe nice to her, Channie. Sâ not everyday we have an angel among us.âÂ
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 didnât budge.Â
Fuck.Â
It was at that moment that all the emotions youâve 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.Â
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 couldnât break it and escape..Â
You supposed there were worse places to be held, at least you werenât 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.Â
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.Â
âHi. Itâs uh- itâs time to check on Hyunjin.â So that was his name. Hyunjin. âHe started complaining about the pain again.âÂ
âOh, ok.â 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.Â
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. âThere's my angel.âÂ
You shook your head, âIâm not an angel, sir. Iâm just a doctor. How are you feeling?âÂ
âDonât call me sir, my name is Hyunjin. But my friends call me Hyune.â He winked after he said âfriendsâ and it brought more heat to your face. âAnd Iâm feeling alright, Angel. Just a little tender with the morphine wearing off.â A quiet scoff and a âlittle tender my assâ was heard from behind you, then Hyunjin sent a glare at Han who mumbled his apology quickly with a giggle. âHow are you, Angel? My boys treating you well? You are my special guest here after all.âÂ
âIâm your special guest?â 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.Â
âOf course. You saved my life and I donât take that kind of thing for granted. So you are the specialist guest Iâve ever had.â He gave you that dopey grin again and you felt your heart palpitate. Why are you reacting this way? Get a grip! Heâs just a man! A dangerous one at that..
But a really really cute one.
Han cleared his throat, âUhh boss, I donât think your in your right mind yet, seems like the morphine is still-âÂ
Han was cut off by another harsh glare sent his way by Hyunjin, â I think Iâm perfectly in my right mind, Jisung, and I appreciate your concern, but what I would appreciate more is you shutting up.â 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.Â
You offered him a small one in return, âThe wound has been cleaned, itâll have to be cleaned and rewrapped twice daily to avoid infection. No strenuous movements for a few weeks while it heals and make sure youâre drinking enough water and eating.âÂ
He grabbed onto your hand once again, âAh thank you so much, Angel. Speaking of food, have you eaten? Are you hungry?â You shook your head but he didnât accept your answer. â Oh come on you must be a little hungry, youâve been working so hard today. Iâll have dinner set up, whatever you like, hmm?â He nodded over at Han who pulled out his phone and sent a quick text. âSo what will it be? Steak? Lobster?âÂ
You said the first thing that came to your mind in a panic, âHow about pizza?âÂ
âPizza?â He laughed, crinkling his eyes. âYou could have anything in the world and you choose pizza? Oh Angel, you are surprising.â He brought your hand up and laid a kiss on the back of your hand. âItâll be done before you know it.âÂ
You found your confidence in that moment, the burning questions rattling around and begging to escape. âCan I ask you something, please?â Your voice came out more timid than you intended and you mentally cursed yourself.Â
âOf course.â He didnât even hesitate, having an inkling about what you wanted to know.Â
âIâm 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 donât know what Iâm still doing here or why youâre being so nice to me or even who you guys are.â You twiddle your thumbs and avoided eye contact, though you were not sure why you were so nervous.Â
Hyunjin chuckled, patting you on the back of your hand, âPromise not to freak out?â You nodded in agreement. âThis is the Straykids headquarters. Youâre still here because you have been more than useful to me and you saved my life.âÂ
Upon hearing the name âStraykidsâ 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.Â
But this man doesnât 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.Â
It was like he could see the gears turning in your head and he let out another chuckle. âDonât worry, Angel, youâre safe here. No one here is going to do anything to harm my special little Angel.â Hyunjin winked again, then a ding was heard from his phone. He leaned over and read the text, âPizza is here. Hannie will take you down to the dining room, I will join you in a moment. Ok?â He finally let go of your hand and sent you off with Han.Â
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.Â
âSo how long have you been an EMT?â The question came from the boy next to you- I.N he was called- as he shoved another bite into his mouth.Â
You cleared your throat, âAbout a year. I worked in the hospital for a while before this as a resident.âÂ
He nodded, swallowing . âWhat made you leave working in the comfort of the hospital? Seems like it would be a pretty cushy gigâÂ
âYeah it was.â You agreed, âBut it was so boring. I like to be out there in the action.âÂ
That had caught everyone's attention. A few looked at you with raised brows. âAction huh?â Minho had asked from across from you. âLike what?â
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.Â
âSounds bloody.â Minho said, earning him a light hit to the head from Seungmin. âFuck off!â He grouched at the boy next to him.
You shrugged, already feeling more comfortable. âIt can be. Nothing you guys arenât used to, Iâm sure.âÂ
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.Â
You felt a hard pat on the back from Chan who was sitting on the other side of you, âYouâre kinda funny, doc.â
âThanks I try.â You gave a small grin to him and finished your pizza.Â
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.Â
Every day Hyunjin would flirt with you, calling you Angel and telling you how much he valued you. You didnât 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 âorganizationâ. They hadnât been exactly secretive about it since youâve been there.Â
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.Â
You walked in and he looked up from whatever he was studying and offered you one of his dazzling smiles. âHiya Angel. Is it that time again?âÂ
You nodded, âUh huh, lemme see it.âÂ
He smirked and lifted his shirt to reveal his toned abdomen. âIf you wanted me to take my clothes off you should have just asked. I would never deny an Angel.â There he was with his flirting that always brought a deep heat over your face and ears.Â
âYeah yeah, just come âer.â 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. âItâs healing very well, Hyunjin. You have been taking great care of it.âÂ
âThatâs all thanks to the incredible doctor that stitched it up and brought me back from the brink.â He said, looking down at you and dropping his shirt back back.Â
âWell youâll be happy to know that you no longer require my expertise, it should be just fine as long as you keep it clean.â You tried to smile but it didnât reach your eyes and Hyunjin could see right through you.Â
âWhatâs wrong, Angel?â He cupped your cheek with his big hands, making you face him.Â
You tried to shake your head, âNothing, Iâm happy you're doing better.âÂ
âBuuuutâ He prompted.Â
You let out a sigh, embarrassed you even feel this way. â But Iâm done treating you. And now you're going to toss me out.âÂ
His eyes widened and confusion washed over his features. âWhat? Who said that? Did one of the boys tell you that?â
âNo they didnât say anything but I just assumed tha-âÂ
âDonât assume anything, I had no plans of getting rid of you.â He stared hard into your eyes.Â
âB-but you donât need me anymore..âÂ
He tsked, âYou silly girl. Havenât you come to realize that Iâll always need you? Who else would take such good care of me and the boys. Donât think I didnât see it when you patched up Minho after his cooking incident. Or when you cured Felix's cold last week.âÂ
âOh that was nothing.â You protested, your hands coming up to fist his shirt as he got even closer.
âNot to me.â 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. âIf you want to leave, then I will let you go. I know you wouldnât 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 Iâve ever met. You captivate me like no one ever has.âÂ
Your hands wrung in his shirt at his sentiment. You didnât 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.Â
âI-I want that too..â You said quietly and screwed your eyes shut. âI would like to remain here. With you, Hyunjin.âÂ
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.Â
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 couldnât stop gazing into each other's eyes. He ran a thumb along your cheekbone, âWelcome to heaven, Angel.âÂ
Šdoitforbangchan
Im not the proudest of this but it took me so long đđ 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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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.
đ
Your phone sat on Buckyâs desk as he stared at it blankly. He wasnât really sure what he expected, maybe that youâd call it, or it would magically reveal some sort of answers to the many questions he had. But it didnât. It just laid there, about as useful as a rock. A âbabe, how are you?! we need to hang out soon!â notification from Natasha had lit up the screen an hour or so before, but otherwise it just continued to sit silently â 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 heâd set up for you, but they hadnât been touched. In fact, nothing had been touched. None of your clothes had moved, your toiletries remained in the bathroom. You hadnât even appeared to have taken any shoes with you. Natashaâs casual check-in text suggested your friends were unaware of what had happened. Youâd justâŚvanished. A ghost in the night.
He felt nauseous, his gut churning. Heâd tried to find the CCTV footage of you leaving, but the image was grainy â 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 heâd 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 â 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 couldnât 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 heâd 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 theyâd tracked the meeting point to. Theyâd even found a CCTV clip of you getting in a strange car that day, despite telling Bucky you were having Wanda over for a girlâs night. The audio was delivered by his own men, verified by their informant. The evidence was overwhelming.
âIt was so easyâ you had giggled cruelly on the clip, the words burned into his memory, âI 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 worksâŚbut I need more time on the Stark deal. Just give me a bit longer and Iâll have that one-armed pussy spill everything after a few more âI love yousâ and dirty fucks. I promise...â
Of course heâd seen red. How could he not? Heâd 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. Heâd finally been vulnerable with someone, shared intimacy in ways heâd never experienced with another person â only to find out it was all a lie. A trick. A joke. It affirmed his biggest fear â 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 heâd turned up to the fight unarmed.
In his mind, heâd not thrown you out â 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 â insisting he blew out the candles. Did she ever even exist? Heâd always joked you were too good to be true. Now heâd accidentally manifested that into reality.
No. Heâd 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 sheâd so easily toppled. The woman whoâd 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. Heâd go back to casual sex and pretty girls hanging off his arm. Easy. Fun. Uncomplicated. The walls would go back up and they wouldnât come down again. Deep down heâd always known that men like him werenât meant to be loved, that they werenât 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. Youâd always deserved better. Heâd 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.Â
âSteve?â he called, checking his watch. It was late, heâd 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.
âIâm sorry, Buckâ, he said gravely.
âSteve..what?â Bucky asked as he gingerly took the phone from him. Sam looked back at him from the small screen, his solemn expression mirroring Steveâs.
âBuckyâŚIâm sorry,â Sam said quietly in that same tone, filling Bucky with a sinking dread.
Something was very wrong here.
âWhat is it?â He fired angrily at Sam, âjust spit it outâŚâ
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.
âWhat am I looking at here?â Bucky squinted at the camera as he tried to focus the image. Steve silently observed over his shoulder.
âTell him what you just told us,â came the sound of Samâs 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 âheapâ was a man.
The man groaned and cried out as Bucky realised the âragsâ 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.Â
It was one of his own.Â
âRumlow?â Bucky asked with confusion.Â
Behind him, Steve moved closer and leaned forward to watch the screen. âJust watch, Buckâ he said sombrely. Â
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.Â
âIt was me. Alright? I did it,â Rumlow groaned.
âDid what?â Bucky sneered, still not entirely clear on where this was going â but already feeling his anger mounting.
Rumlow sighed heavily and Sam gave him another swift kick to the ribs to encourage him to continue.Â
He moaned out in pain and closed his eyes. âAaargh. AlrightâŚI did it! I did it okay! I made the recording!â he spat.
Buckyâs eyes darkened as comprehension of the situation unfolding began to take hold. His fist tightened around the phone screen. âWhich recordingâŚRumlow?â He asked, his voice sinisterly calm.Â
Rumlow paused and spat a wad of blood onto the floor. Bucky recognised the look of fear building in the manâs eyes, heâd seen it many times before. Rumlow was stalling to delay the inevitable.
âTell me!!â 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.
âOf your girlâŚtalking to the policeâŚit wasnât her-uh-it wasnât even real. I used AI. FromâŚfrom recordings of her voice from old security footageâŚIâm sorryâŚI just-â
But Bucky was eerily composed. Rumlow took his silence as the cue to continue.
âI 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 didnât even notice it was goneâŚIâm sorry IâŚâ
Bucky cleared his throat. He tapped a single contemplative finger over his lips as his eyes glazed over.
âSam?â he asked, his voice void of emotion.Â
Sam flipped the camera back to face himself. He looked grimly into the lens. âIâm sorry BuckâŚwe had no ideaâŚI caught him on the phone with the feds about the shipment â he thought Iâd already left and-â
âKeep him warm,â Bucky interrupted, his voice cold like ice, âI have more urgent matters to attend to first, but I will deal with himâ.
Sam merely nodded. Just as he cut the call, Bucky heard Rumlow wail and beg in the background. Heâd 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 â shattering both. He flipped his desk, the chair, the bookcase â 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.
âWeâll find her, Buckâ, Steve told him unwaveringly. âShe canât have gone far on foot. Then you can explain everything and apologiseâ.
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. âShe told me she didnât do it, Steve. And I didnât believe herâŚâ
âThe recording was very convincing,â Steve clamped a sympathetic hand onto Buckyâs shoulder, âit sounded just like her â and had all of us fooled. Not to mention the phone location evidenceâŚthe CCTV of her leavingâŚbefore 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 toâŚâ
Bucky bleakly shook his head, âDoesnât matter. Sheâs my girlfriend and Iâm supposed to trust her. Believe her. When I heard her voice on that recording I justâŚâ, he trailed off sadly, ââŚit tapped into my worst fearsâŚâ
Steve nodded sagely. âLetâs just find her first, and you can talk to her. And then we can deal with Rumlowâ.
Bucky grimaced, âI knew he was a risk to take onâŚwith our shared history in HYDRAâs organisationâŚbut I never thoughtâŚâ
âLetâs just find her for now,â 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, theyâd have entire squads of their men scouring the area with a fine-tooth comb.
Bucky stood amongst the wreckage â the roomâs physical ruins a glaring reminder that this wasnât the only mess heâd made tonight. He pulled his own phone from his jacket pocket, opening his photo album as the pings and buzzes from Steveâs 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 â caught off-guard, your mouth a small âoâ of surprise. Youâd 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, âIâm sorry, dollâ he whispered, âI promise Iâll do anything I can to fix thisâŚâ
A couple of miles away, you slept deeply in the tear-stained hotel sheets â completely unaware of the organised efforts to track you down. You didnât dream, you didnât stir, you just slept - grateful to give yourself over to oblivion.
đ
There had only been a few places you could have gone on foot.
Buckyâs men had worked quickly despite the late hour. The local police force, already firmly in Buckyâs pocket, loaned him a few law enforcement bodies to assist with the search, no questions asked â as was standard. Sheriff Bodecker always played ball. They collected the CCTV from local businesses, doorbell cam footage from local residents (who werenât particularly happy to be woken to do so, but didnât 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 wasnât likely, so they put that option on the backburner â although it hadnât been entirely ruled out.
The gas station staff hadnât 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 â 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 mustâve 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 â it was one of the many reasons he loved you. But mainly, he was ashamed. Ashamed that heâd pushed you to this, that heâd 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.
Iâm on my way, doll.
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press four for more options. | part four.
(Â Read on AO3 )
Pairing:Â 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 â but you donât feel like unearthing from your snuggie poncho.
Putting on a movie can be a great distraction â 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.Â
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 yourselfâ
Ironically, to be independent and strong on your own.
Which, actually, really fucking sucks now that youâre stuck with the decision to totally disappear from the gym, too.
(Kind of thwarts the whole ânew meâ chest-puffing youâd 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.
(Thereâs a fragile line drawn in the sands of reality. You can toe the edge, but you refuse to. This is his livelihood. Youâre not delusional to believe youâre a main character exception.)
Coincidentally, Levi goes every day, too.Â
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 hadnât 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 isnât a turn-off to you in the slightest, but his arms â his goddamn arms.
Levi wasnât kidding when he told you that he could pick you up.
He could probably pick two of you up, one arm each.
Theyâre so toned, his forearms veiny from morning dehydration.
Training vigorously in his own world, not once does he notice that youâre the bumbling idiot thatâs tripped on the treadmill (see: a few times) from dissociating.
Hell, he hasnât a single fucking clue that youâre close enough to yell across the room to him.
Would he know?
That youâre 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 â 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 menâs locker room without a word.
This is torture.
You miss him.
But you still refuse to call.
Can't â because in another world you may be his, but in this world, he is not yours.
.
.
â â
.
.
  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. Annieâs 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 â itâs never not a zoo at this hour, no matter the day. Saying excuse me would only waste breath.Â
A live band croons on the far end of the smoky bar, forcing everyone to talk ten decibels higher just to hear the conversation.
(Canât you turn around and go home while youâre 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.
âHoly shit, she left her cave!â Eren yells, holding up a cheap beer in salute to your arrival.
(Thanks Jeager, you little fuck.)
You donât hear what she says, but you can see Mikasaâs lips part in tandem with a sharp elbow jab straight to his ribs.
Eren instantly falters his salute, souring in pain.
âI know. Donât be so shocked,â you state to your colleagues, leaning up against the circular high-top table. âAm I the last to show?â
âNah, youâre right on time. Armin and Jeanâre on their way,â Reiner grunts, holding onto a comically small cosmopolitan in his rather large hand. âSashaâs on babysitting duty with Nicco.â
You look around the bar for any other familiar faces.
âAnd Connie?â
âPassed out,â Mikasa supplies. âTook edibles after work.â
âThereâs no chance in hell anyoneâs waking him,â Eren snorts. âFuckerâs toast.â
Reiner sighs. âFor what itâs worth, Jean tried.â
âNo, Armin tried,â Annie corrects, finally piping up. She holds something on the rocks â brandy? Whiskey? You canât tell. âJean just laughed and kept trying to draw shit on his face.â
âYou didnât see the Snapchat he sent?â Eren asks after a gulp of his beer.
You shake your head, knowing damn well youâve avoided using your phone for the last several days.Â
Missed texts, abandoned tagged tweets, your streak in your mobile game ruined â anything so you wouldnât be tempted to click that little number.
Damn it.
Enough wallowing.
âIâm gonna go grab a drink,â you state, disengaging with the table. âAnyone need anything?â
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 youâve commandeered from the masses.
Armin and Jean.
Reiner and Annie shake their heads.
âNope, Iâm solid.â
âGood here.â
âErenâs got the next round of shots,â Mikasa flatly states. âYouâre fine.â
âHa, hell yeah!â Eren exclaims, before he settles into a confused pause of silence. His head whips to Mikasa, blinking twice. âWait, what?â
You donât stick around for that aftermath.
Squeezing back into the lionâs 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.Â
Holding up two fingers to get the one of the three bartenderâs attention, she nods once to acknowledge she sees you â sheâll 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.Â
Itâll 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 doesnât think youâre a total goddamn recluse, then you can goâ
âIs this seat taken?â
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.
âOh â shit, yeah. I mean, no! No itâs not. Iâm sorry.â
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.
âHold on, let me just moveââ
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 â that heâs seen your face before â seems to be hitting him like a goddamn freight train.
Your blood runs cold as your own eyes round.
â...my stuff.â
Weakly you finish your thought, wishing for nothing but death right now.Â
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.Â
Maybe your drink will be poisoned.Â
Youâre happy for anything so long as itâs 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 youâve lost your own.Â
Itâs 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.Â
Leave.
You wonât get your damn drink, but thatâs fine so long as youâre not here.
âHowâs your phone?â
Eventually Levi speaks, and you find yourself wishing he hadnât.Â
The effect of his voice is even worse in person â so buttery smooth, the gravel much deeper in his chest now that there isnât a phone receiver to dilute it.
âNot⌠damaged,â you reply cautiously.
âGood.â
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 toâ
âSoââ
âIâm canceling my subscription.â
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.
âHow come?â he asks, leaning further against the bar top.
âIâ how come?â
You repeat his question in surprise.
Wildly gesturing towards the space between you with your hand, you snort.
âUh, because thatâs the right thing to do in this circumstance? Because seeing you in person is borderline unethical?â
He hums at that, not giving you much to work with.
âAnd for the record, I did not stalk you to this bar.â
âDidnât think you did.â
âIâm actually here with friendsââ
âWhy didnât you say something?âÂ
Levi interrupts, seemingly unbothered by your rambling.Â
âAt the gym. I can make an educated guess and say you knew it was me from the second I opened my trap, but you didnât say anything.â
Why isnât he freaking out?
Shouldnât he be freaking out?
Just as you open your mouth to continue professing your innocence, the bartender walks over and points to you.
âWhat can I get you?â
You blanch, no longer remember how to order drinks.Â
âIââ
âI got her tab,â Levi interrupts casually, tapping his index finger into the counter. âTwo hard seltzers.â
Then he has the audacity to glance your way.
âPineapple, right?â
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.)
â...pineappleâs fine,â you murmur in return, hesitant.
The bartender doesnât 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 sportâs game is playing overhead on the television.
You stare at your mirrored reflection in the bar backsplash.
This is real life.
The man youâve spent hours talking to over the phone to, getting off to, is sitting right beside you, yet he isnât trying to create distance.
If anything, heâs buying you a damn drink and asking you why.
Why didnât you say something?
âI didnât say anything at the gym because that would have been extremely inappropriate,â you finally argue under your breath, keeping the conversation strictly between you. âWhat would I have said? âOh hey, guy I've paid to talk to on the phone every single night for the past week. Isnât it crazy that I actually go to the same gym as you?â Thatâs so creepy.âÂ
When he says nothing, still staring at you, you continue to bury yourself into a deeper grave.
âI mean, I thought you lived, like⌠a billion miles from me. Maybe from another planet.â
His brows pinch with amusement.Â
âOn Mars, orâŚ?â
Oh.
Heâs joking.
Heâs actually joking about this.
You turn your chin, brow furrowed. âThis isnât funny.â
âItâs a little funny.â
He crosses his arms over his chest, and you have to force yourself to maintain eye contact.
âI wondered why you looked so scared of me on Friday. Thought maybe I smelled like shit from my workout.â
No, you want to say. Unfortunately it was the goddamn opposite.
âSo youâre notâŚâ
âWorried youâre a stalker trying to dox me because of my job?â
Levi blatantly finishes, and you wince.
Clearly he notices your embarrassment, because he sighs and relaxes his shoulders.
âIâm more pissed that you didnât call all weekend, but then again, thatâs the nature of the job.â
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.
âThe nature of the job?â you repeat, and he nods.
âPeople get bored. Run out of funds. Novelty wears off fast.âÂ
Levi shrugs, sipping his drink.Â
âJust because you like talking to someone doesnât mean they stick around. Wouldnât blame 'em â shit gets expensive quick.â
âI justâŚâ
You trail off, fighting to find the correct words to say.
â...I thought it wasnât right to call again, knowing I knew what you looked like, so I didnât.âÂ
Explaining yourself makes your tongue feel sluggish, like you were caught red-handed in a crime you didnât know youâd committed until hindsight.
âI can leave you alone,â you decide to add, holding your drink tighter. âLike I said, Iâm here with my friends and⌠after all, you were doing your job. A great job. Youâre kind of the reason Iâm even here in the first place.â
Leviâs brow knits, and your eyes widen.
âNot like that!â
âPretty shit at asserting yourself even in person,â he murmurs like itâs a cheeky inside joke, and he sips once more. âSo how am I the reason?â
Heâs not angry.
Hell, heâs conversational.
Not the least bit worried about how youâve both managed to get here.
Might as well be honest.
âBecause I decided to stop being a little less scared of the world,â you confess softly. âItâ Thatâs 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, Iâd spend more time with friends. Get out there more. Be more assertive â beyond right now, obviously.â
The dark-haired manâs 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.
âDo you have to go back to your friends right now?â
At first you donât 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.
âYou donât⌠want me to leave?â
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.
âSo, thenâŚâ You start slowly. âWhat does this mean?â
âWell,â Levi begins, mulling it over in his head. âMeans the whole provider-client relationship has basically gone to shit. You know my face, now I know yours.â
âRight.â
âThen again, that professionalism was already well into a shit pile way before Friday morning.â
You blink, not following. âHuh?â
âThereâs 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 wasnât anything aboutâŚâ
Levi trails off, clenching his jaw in debate.
â...about crossing the line I practically leapt over. Iâm good at my job because of my detachment, but this was the only time I bordered on unethical myself. That wasnât fair to you, and Iâm sorry.â
Sorry.
Levi⌠was sorry?
The words blurt faster than you can stop yourself. âWhy the hell are you sorry?â
His eyes widen with a budding uncertainty.
âI⌠just said I crossed the line?â
âWhen?â
âOn the phone?â
âOkay, duh, but when?â
âOur last session.â
âSo that was real.â
Levi actually got off to your voice.
If you werenât 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.Â
âIt wasnât supposed to be.â
Then he sips more before shaking his head.
âLook. Itâs⌠a job a friend of mine got me. Iâm 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.â
You can't hide your surprise. âYou were a fighter?â
He makes a noncommittal face.
âLoosely. Personal trainer, training in general â fell into it after I got out of the service.â
âRight, you were in the army,â you murmur, and the edge of his lips upticks at your recollection.
âA couple of months ago the gym I worked for went under, money got tight, so I thought Iâd 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.
âI can usually predict what someone wants. The people that call this hotline shit, theyâre in and out."
He takes a pause.
"You, though â the second I picked up your call, you threw me through a goddamn loop.â
You use your nail on your index finger to absently scratch the side of your thumb, attempting to process everything heâs 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 â 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.
âSo, your⌠office building isnât far?â you slowly ask.
Levi shakes his head. âNo, no office. I work remotely. Kind of the reason why I took the gig in the first place. I wouldnât do this shit if I had an audience in a damn two-by-four cube.â
Youâre not sure what possesses you to confess it, but you point past your shoulder.Â
âMy apartment complex is actually six blocks down the street.â
Ten minutes away, is your implication.
His hand had raised to sip from his seltzer can, but it halts immediately.
His eyes narrow.Â
âThe complex on Junction Ave?â
âYeah," you say.
âRight across fromââ
âThe Reiss deli.â
That narrowed gaze shoots wide. âYouâre shitting me.â
âYou say the word shit a lot.â
âBaby, I live there,â he blurts.
âWait, what?â
Now itâs your turn for your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.
(Youâre too shocked to even process what he called you.)
He huffs in a brief laugh, shaking his head.
âYou gotta be fucking with me.â
âIâm not! Wait, you live in the same building as me?â
âYou said Thomas was your goddamn mailman,â Levi states. âDo you know how many fucking Thomas the Mailmen there are in this world? I didnât think weâd have the same one.â
Holy shit.
Oh, holy shit.
You sit up taller in your seat. âWait, what floor?â
âSixteenth.â
âIâm on the tenth!â you exclaim in your shock. âHoly shit, so youâŚâ
Have been right above me this entire time.
Your phone buzzes, ruining your train of thought.Â
Reflexively you look down to see the preview of Annieâs message over your lock screen.
[A. LEONHART]: Did u die?
Right.
Youâre here with friends.
âFriends wondering where you are?â Levi inquiries at the sight of your growing frown.
âYeah, give me a sec.â
You swipe the screen north and type a reply.
[ME]: Talking to someone. Be over in a bit.
Annieâs reply is immediate, and you turn your phone from Leviâs view in mortification.
[A. LEONHART]: đđđđđ
[A. LEONHART]: WINGMAN??? NEED????
[ME]: NO! Do not come over here!
[A. LEONHART]: ok ok ok noted
[A. LEONHART]: iâll keep jaeger to the left end of the bar
âLooks urgent.â
âHuh?âÂ
You shoot a glance back up to Levi, whoâs now angled towards you with his cheek squished against his clenched fist. His elbow props him up on the bar top.Â
âNo! No. Itâs just my friend Annie. She â is actually the one who gave me the number to that hotline in the first place,â you confess.
Levi hums in that delicious way youâve come to crave.Â
âI donât want to derail your evening. Iâve already taken you away from them for a while.â
Your heart is hesitant, but it grows despite yourself.Â
âIf you want me to stay, then Iâll stay,â you quietly state. âI⌠liked talking to you. I mean, beyond the whole â you know.â
He nods once, setting his drink down.Â
âFor what itâs worth, I donât want you to disappear, either. My jobâs not exactly corporate. Not many people can separate fantasy from reality. With you, I never had to bullshit what it was, butâŚâ
Levi trails off, sighing heavily.
â...but I also understand if itâs just a fantasy, for you.â
Something nestles itself between the lines of his words.Â
Something he isnât saying outright, sussing out if he has any right to try.
âDo you really mean that, Levi?â
That sigh turns into a curbed huff, smile fleeting but enough to bring your stomach butterflies.Â
âDamn. Sounds nice, hearing my name in person.â
Oh, sweet Jesus.
You could scream into your damn seltzer, but you decide to play it as cool as you possibly can.
âSo Leviâs your real name?â
He nods.
âNot creative enough to come up with an alias."
Levi shifts, rolling out a shoulder.
"But to answer your question, Iâm saying I⌠yeah, I mean it. I wouldnât mind asking you out for coffee sometime, given we seem to run on the same gym schedule as it is. Just didnât know if you wanted to leave it at the hotline and call it a day â no pun intended.â
Are you seriously hearing what heâs 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:Â
âAre you single?â
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.)
âYes. Very,â he promises. âAre you, still?â
âVery,â you promise back.
âAnd my job doesnât bother you?â
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.
âWork is work,â you argue with a one-shoulder shrug. âSure, itâs unconventional, but⌠Iâm so used to not knowing what I want, or second-guessing whatâs good for me, and I donât think Iâve ever second guessed a damn thing with you.â
Bringing the seltzer back up to his mouth, Levi smirks against the can, mulling something over.Â
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.
âWell, if you donât get too wasted with your friends tonightââ
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.
ââand you end up going to the gym tomorrow morningââ
Levi then sits up taller, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand resting on the bar top.Â
His skin is smooth.Â
Heated.Â
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.
ââgive me a call.â
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 â 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.
âHello, Levi Ackerman speaking.â
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.
âHi, Levi. Itâs formerly Scarlet.â
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?â
.
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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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: Iâve 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. Itâs 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. Youâd stayed at college late, cramming for your upcoming finals until youâd 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 didnât 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 couldnât 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 couldnât do this, let some random fucking guy youâd 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 shouldnât 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 couldâve sworn youâd seen his lips twitch up into a small smile but you didnât bother to look, worried it would snap you out of whatever the fuck had gotten into you.
This wasnât you, you werenât even the kind of person to interact with a stranger unless it was entirely necessary, but here you were, at three oâclock 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 wasnât doing anything, as though this was an completely normal interaction. Perhaps it was for him, but at that moment you couldnât care less. You didnât 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 itâs a wonder it didnât bend. Your eyes flew open as you reached your peak, meeting a manâs 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 womanâs, 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, youâd 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 heâd 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.
âGhostface 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.â
Your eyes widened as soon as you saw âEthanâsâ 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 youâd 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#iâm 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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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
âI think this is the last of it,â 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 didnât 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. Heâd 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, heâd hum in agreement with your complaints but always found a way to shut you up with sweet wordsâŚor dirty ones. It was no surprise to you that he had a filthy fucking mouth when he wanted to turn you onâŚwhich 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.
âNot sure why youâre huffinâ and puffinâ, babydoll. I did all the heavy lifting,â he said, his voice soft and teasing.
You rolled onto your side, glaring at him with sweat still dripping down your face.
âIn case you havenât noticed,â you grumbled. âIâm not used to this damn humidity. Itâs almost fucking eighty degrees in December! This is ridiculous.âÂ
âAw, sâmy girl missing the coast?â he feigned a pouty face.
âFuck off,â you scoffed, rolling over to face the other direction.
âIâm just kiddinâ, darlinâ. Iâm happy youâre here.â
âI am, too,â you sighed.Â
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.
âJoel,â you whispered.Â
âYeah, babydoll?â He asked, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck.
âI need you.â
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.
âSâall you needed, babydoll?â Joel murmured against your open mouth. âJust some attention and lovinâ?â
âMaybe just a lilâ bit,â you confessed.
âSarahâs not gonna be home from school for âfew hours,â he mused. âReckon, I can give you all the attention you want.â
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.
âIf I ainât the luckiest son âa bitch alive,â he shook his head, smiling down at you.Â
âYouâre not too bad yourself, cowboy,â you replied.
Joel was fucking gorgeousâŚeverywhere. 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.Â
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.
âCanât believe this is sâall mine,â he whispered into your ear. âYou hear me, darlinâ? Youâre all mine.â
âIâm yours,â you agreed.
Joelâs 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.Â
âWhat yaâ want, darlinâ? Use those words.â
âYouâŚIâI want you,â you panted. âI want your cock, please.â
âWant it or need it?â He questioned, applying more pressure to your throbbing clit.
âNeed it!â 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.
âListen to those pretty lilâ sounds,â Joel hummed. âFuckinâ love hearinâ ya cry out for me.â
âIâfuck! Fuck, Joel, please!â you begged. âGod, please!âÂ
âPlease, what, darlinâ? Yâwanna cum? Is that what ya want?â
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.
âTaste yourself, babydoll,â he ordered.Â
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.
âThere yaâ go, darlinâ,â 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.Â
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.
âThatâs it, thereâs my good girl. Fuckinâ drenchingâ my cock.â
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.Â
âJoel!â you shouted. âIâIâm gonna cum again, please!â
âI know, babydoll, I know,â he crooned. âI got you.â
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.Â
âGonna fill this pussy up,â he grunted. âYâwant my cum, babydoll?â
Words wouldnât 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.
âDid so fuckinâ good for me,â 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 didnât know if it was too soon; you were so caught up in the moment that you werenât thinking straight.
âI think I need a nap after that,â you chuckled, leaving those words tucked away in your head.
âBed sâall yours, darlinâ,â 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.Â
âGet some sleep, babydoll. Iâll be âround the house unboxing stuff âtil youâre up.â
âThanks, cowboy.â
**
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 dayâwhich 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.
âYou think heâll like it?â Sarah asked nervously, handing over the grey box to you.
âHeâll love it,â you assured her.
You were nestled into the couch in one of Joelâs 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.
âAlright,â He yawned. âLetâs see what the fat man got yâall.â
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 lovâ.
âOpen your present, Dad!â Sarah exclaimed, dragging you from your wandering thoughts. âWe got you something special!â
âYâdid, huh?â Joel looked at you with skepticism.Â
You held out the box to him, shrugging with nonchalance.
âSurprise, cowboy,â 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, Joelâs eyes shifted between you and Sarah, his big brown eyes softening.
âYâall really ainât had to do anything,â he protested. âGot all I need right here.â
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 wasnât anything flashy or extravagant; you and Sarah knew heâd hate that.Â
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.
âYou hate it, huh?â Sarah asked quietly.Â
âWhat?â Joel shook his head. âGod no, sweetheart, I love it. Thank you.â
Sarahâs 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 Sarahâs shoulder at you, mouthing a soft thank you.Â
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.Â
âSâtoo much,â he mumbled. âAinât deserve these nice things.âÂ
âYes, you do,â 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.Â
âSâreal nice of yâall to do this,â he sighed. âI really âppreciate it.â
âShe just wanted to do something special for you,â you said, scooting closer to him. âShe loves you.â
âI know, I know.â
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 couldnât wrangle them down this time.
âJoel, Iâ.â
âDonât,â 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 wordsâŚor even reciprocate them. You chewed on your lip, tryingâand failingâto hide your disappointment.
âDonât say it,â he continued. âI wanna say it first. I love you, babydoll. Sâfucking much.â
His features began to blur as tears fell against your cheeks.
âSwear?â You asked.
âOn my life.â
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 hadnât expected to fall for him so fastâor fall for him at all. It wasnât supposed to happen, but it did, and you were happier because of it.Â
âI love you, too, cowboy,â 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.Â
âWatch me, babydoll,â he instructed. âDonât take those pretty eyes off the mirror.â
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 Joelâs 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.
âQuiet, darlinâ,â he warned. âBe good for me.â
âIâll be good,â you promised.Â
âThatâs my girl.â
Then his mouth was back on you. He guided you toward the edge of your orgasm, keeping you suspended between bliss and delirium. You couldnât 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.Â
âSo damn beautiful, babydoll,â he praised.Â
âYouâre not so bad yourself, cowboy.â
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. Joelâs hand slid down your leg, cupping the underside of your knee as he hauled your leg higher, forcing himself deeper into you.Â
âJoel,â you whimpered quietly. âFeelâs so fucking good.â
âI know, babydoll,â he whispered. âSâlike you were made for me.â
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.Â
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 wasnât long before he had you pressed against the cold shower walls, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body.Â
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. Joelâs 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.
âI love you, Joel,â you sighed, nuzzling into his embrace.
âI love you, darlinâ. Always.â
**
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 Joelâs 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.Â
âWhat can I do for ya, miss?â Joel smirked, quickly feeding into your energy.
âGot myself a flat,â you feigned distress, leaning against the counter before him. âCan you help me out?â
âSâgonna cost ya,â he shrugged.Â
âIâm all outta cash,â you whined, resting your chin on the palm of your hand.Â
âGotta credit card?â he questioned.
âItâll get declined,â you pouted.
Joel let out a heavy breath, scratching his neck as he took you in your exaggerated appearance.
âWell, thatâs got you in quite the predicament.â
âA pretty big one, huh?â You stifled a giggle. He knew what you were implying.
âI reckon we can work somethinâ out,â he insisted, nodding his head towards the back door.Â
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.Â
âYâsure are somethinâ, babydoll,â he said before leaning in for a hungry kiss.Â
âWhatever do you mean?â you said sarcastically. âIâm just an innocent woman lookinâ for help.â
âKeep runninâ that mouth of yours, darlin'. Itâll only get you in trouble,â he warned.
âWhatâre you gonna do about it, cowboy?â you taunted, running your hands under the fabric of his shirt.Â
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.
âBetter make use of that fuckinâ mouth,â he growled. âSince âya need that tire fixed so bad.â
âIâll do anything,â 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.
âOpen that pretty fuckinâ mouth, babydoll,â 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.
âSo,â you drawled, pulling away from his hungry lips. âThink I can get that tire fixed?â
âI might be able to work somethinâ out,â he mused. âWe can negotiate it over dinner.â
âOh, you wanna wine and dine me now?â
âDamn right, I do,â he grinned. âNow, letâs go home so I can feast on you.â
âTake me home, cowboy.â
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.Â
âWhatâs that look for, huh?â He squeezed your hip, his other hand gripping the wheel.
âI love you,â you sighed.
âI love you, too, babydoll. Always.â
#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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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 âcutie pieâ 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 âuuuuh who are you, 'cutie pie?'â and the spencer was "what???? who's cutie pie???"
Spencerâs at home sick. Heâd come over before his fever set in and heâd been delirious by the time he crawled into your bed.Â
You wanted to stay home too, to take care of him and make him chicken noodle soup that wouldâve been too spicy or make him take his medicine- he can be a bit of a baby about the liquid stuff.Â
Instead, you had to come to work.Â
You left medicine on your bedside, a large glass of water and a couple sleeves of saltines for Spencer.Â
At work youâd been texting back and forth when he woke up, giggling and smiling much to Luke and Mattâs confusion.Â
âWhoâs got you smiling like that?â Luke asks and you lock your phone, holding it against your chest.Â
âJust someone Iâm talking to.âÂ
Itâs the wrong thing to say because just as the words leave you Penelope is in the bullpen and you look up at her like youâve been caught red handed.Â
Itâs not that you and Spencer are trying to keep your relationship a secret. Itâs that youâve only just started dating- maybe a month. You know Penelope will feel betrayed for a few minutes before asking for updates.Â
âWho is this someone?â She asks and you shrug, not wanting to say too much.Â
Your phone pings again and Matt raises his eyebrow- heâs come to be like a protective brother to you.Â
âIs it serious?â He asks, watching you bite your lip to hide your smile.Â
âYeah, Iâd say so.âÂ
Penelope squeals, your phone rings. You freeze for a moment when your phone announces, âBaby.âÂ
She lunges before you do, snatching your phone from your hands and then answering.Â
âWho are you, âbabyâ?â Penelope says and you bite your lip, hoping Spencer is at least a bit coherent.Â
âPut it on speaker, Garcia.â Luke says and you shriek, apologies already circling your head for Spencer.Â
Penelope does as asked, and repeats her question. âWell mystery Baby, who are you?â
Spencerâs voice is hoarse and confused as he repeats, âWhoâs baby? Penelope is that you? Whereâs Y/n?âÂ
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.Â
âIâm here, Iâll call you back Spence.â You say quickly, body hot as you rush to hang up.Â
âSo, the boy genius huh?â Penelope says, a chuckle breaking through your group.Â
âI knew it!â Matt said, opening his hand as Luke fishes out his wallet.Â
âWhat did you know, Simmons?â You ask, watching Luke place what looks to be a couple hundred dollars in Mattâs hand.Â
âThat you and the good doctor were seeing each other.â He says like itâs no big deal. âI knew it from the second day when you guys started doing your crosswords together.âÂ
You blow a raspberry, not even you knew you were going to end up with Spencer.Â
âRossiâs going to love this gos!â Penelope says, rushing out with a wave of her arm.Â
âWe are happy for you, youâre cute together.â Luke compliments, laughing when you hide behind your hands.Â
When the drama dies down you text Spencer, I think everyone is now aware that weâre together. OopsÂ
Spencer texts back, more coherent than youâd thought heâd be given the temperature of his fever: Thatâs not so bad. At least now I can kiss you between the crosswords.Â
You roll your eyes, You already do that, genius.Â
Spencerâs response has you a mess of emotions. So, baby huh? I didnât think youâd be fond of that one.Â
Go take your medicine and get some rest, Spencer.
#spencerreid#spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x black reader#spencer reid x sunshine!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid x y/n#dr spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid headcanon
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Turbulence
You join the mile-high club with a mysterious English gentleman.Â
A/N: First BT fic! Been obsessed with this movie, and just had to make something with one of our favourite assassins. I had to do a weird amount of research on flying for this... It wonât be my last so follow for more! :)
Set pre movie.Â
Word count: 2.5KÂ
Tags: SMUT / Porn with little plot / Minor spoilers for references in Bullet Train (2022) / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Hookups / Mentions of birth control / Quickies / Canon-typical language / Canon-typical banter / Minors + Ageless blogs DNI
âLadies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 4B7 to Tokyo. We are currently second in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately five minutes time. At this time, we ask you to please fasten your seatbelts and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. Iâm Goldie, and thank you for choosing our airline. Enjoy your flight!âÂ
Hanging the speaker up, you smoothed out your skirt as you fixed yourself to take the final walk before take-off. âGoldieâ wasnât your real name of course, but a nickname given to you by a sleazy boss. You wouldâve hated it, but you found that it greatly helped with creepy passengers who were searching for a place in the coveted âmile high clubâ, or those who simply flew with the intention of sleeping with flight attendants across the world. On the contrary, it was always cute when toddlers cooed your name from across the plane, calling for you as if youâd known them their entire life. Â
As you pushed past the curtain to the business class, your eyes fell on a pair of men; one dark-skinned with curly dyed hair, the other with long, slicked back hair and a moustache. They wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary had the moustached man not been holding a phone to his ear. Great. There was always at least one person who never listened to the announcements, but there was something about those who rode in first or business class that held a different kind of entitlement entirely.Â
Swallowing, you put on your best customer service and sauntered over to them. The dark-skinned man noticed you first, raising his brows before nudging the one next to him, who seemed deep into an important, but strained, conversation.Â
â...Yeah, yeah. We get the kid and the briefcase, then the train to Kyoto...Yes, we know who weâre dealing with, I forwarded Lemon the briefing. Right, can we go now? Take-offs in two minutes --âÂ
âExcuse me,â you cut in. âYouâre going to need to hang that up...âÂ
The man did a double take, holding his phone away from his ear as he glanced up at you. If it wasnât his old English accent that captivated you, it was his eyes, a striking blue with hints of grey that seemed to stare directly into your soul. Â
âIâm going now.â He said snarkily to the person on the phone before hanging up, placing the object into the pocket of his navy-blue suit before staring up at you with a charming, but cheeky smile.Â
âMy apologies darlinâ,â he said, his voice as smooth as butter. âWork wonât give us a break.â Â
âDonât I know it?â you replied, shifting your weight as you prepared to move on. âThank you, sir. Enjoy your flight...â you said before looking down at his hands; strong and adorned with gold rings. Â
â...Nice watch.â You finished with a knowing smile. Given the parts of the broken conversation youâd heard, and the elaborate way they were dressed, you figured that they were at least some kind of secret service members - not that it was any of your business, of course. Still, there was something particularly arousing about the blue-eyed man in the three-piece navy suit with the nice watch, and you couldnât help but wonder what would happen if you broke your âno-sex-on-the-jobâ rule, just this once. If he wasnât busy with mission stuff, of course.Â
âThank you, sweetheart.â He replied, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled, watching you as you walked off, admiring the questionably short length of your skirt in the process. Sitting back in his seat, he chuckled to himself before turning to see his brother Lemon hastily swiping through the movie selection on the screens.Â
âThe fuck are you doing?âÂ
âTryinâ to see if theyâve got Thomas...â Lemon said matter-of-factly. âItâs alright though. I always come prepared.â he finished, tapping his laptop pointedly. Tangerine frowned, shaking his head as he sat back in his seat, side eyeing you as you made your way to your jumpseat in the corner. Â
It was going to be a long journey, but at least he had a nice view.Â
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As soon as it had been safe to take seatbelts off, youâd wasted no time in making your way back down to the business area. The best part about the job was that you were able to walk about, getting a good glimpse at the passengers you thought were attractive â all under the guise of providing good customer service. The man with watch was reading a book, whilst the other seemed engrossed with whatever was on the screen, with his fingers covering his face in a concerned manner. They seemed like polar opposites, yet seemed to work so well together, something that made your job a lot easier when it came to seating passengers. If only everyone was like them.Â
If it hadnât been obvious, you were rather interested in the blue-eyed gentleman in particular. Whilst he hadnât given you definite signs he was interested, you fixed your make up in your compact mirror regardless, and opened a button on your blouse so it was just a little lower than industry guidelines. It never hurt to try, and it certainly wasnât as if you were going to see him again.Â
Smiling, you guided a cart down the narrow aisles, stopping at the pair of men.Â
âRefreshments?âÂ
The dark-skinned man, âLemonâ, as he had been referred to, answered first, eagerly pausing his screen to speak to you.Â
âIâd love somethinâ, love,â he said, holding the same accent as his partner. âDâya have anything fizzy?âÂ
âOf course,â you hummed. âWe have Coke â regular, Diet and Zero, Dr Pepper, Sprite, some SanPellegrino --âÂ
âIâll have a Coke, love. Make it Diet...â he said, and you nodded, quickly finding the box for the right can. âItâs a shame ya donât do any bubble milk tea up here...I got a real craving for one...âÂ
You laughed as you handed him the can. âLuckily for you Tokyo is full of great places to get one. You probably could even find one in their vending machines...Donât get those in the West, do you?âÂ
âCertainly not in London,â he chuckled, opening the can and taking a swig before pursing his lips and tapping a finger on his chin. âSay, I donât suppose you could settle a little argument for me, could you?â âOh here we go...â the other man interjected, drawing himself from his book to huff and look between the two of you. âFucking unbelievable.âÂ
Lemon rolled his eyes. Â
âThat SanPellegrino of yours...Which flavour do you sell the most?âÂ
You bit your lip.Â
âDepends...Itâs usually lemon because people think it might taste like lemonade. The orange one never goes to waste, though...âÂ
Lemon gave the other man a pointed look, and he scoffed before looking at you.Â
âNot to completely waste your time, love, but if you had to choose between a lemon or a tangerine...â he didnât finish, probably because it wouldâve pained him to, and moved his hands as if he were balancing weights on scales. Â
You stared blankly between the two men, confused but utterly endeared.Â
âTangerines are good on their own, but lemons are far more versatile...â âSee?â Lemon said triumphantly, celebrating with himself before shaking your hand. âPleasure doing business with you, darlinâ.â He grinned before restarting his movie, moving on as if nothing had happened. You chuckled to yourself, conscious of the hundred other guests that needed you, but looked back to lock eyes with the other man, ready to ask him the same question. He wore a knowing smirk on his face, the curve of his pink lips still evident under his thick moustache and tutted chidingly.Â
âReally thought youâd be on my side there, sweetheart,â he sighed. âSuppose you canât trust everyone, can you?âÂ
âIâm sorry,â you pouted. âYou must give it to him though. Lemons are pretty good.âÂ
âDarlinâ I donât have a problem with the message, but the messenger,â he said, nodding to the man next to him. âHeâs a grown arse lad watching Thomas, that one.âÂ
You chuckled, glimpsing at the screen to see that it was indeed correct. Shaking your head, you scanned the crafted features of his face before raising a brow.Â
âSo, whatâs your poison?âÂ
âA gorgeous lady pushing a cart, it seems.âÂ
âSmooth,â you hummed, unable to ignore the way a dangerous heat shot through your stomach and down to your core, making your legs feel like jelly. Heâd hardly done anything, and yet you were under his spell. âWhat would you like to drink?âÂ
âNothinâ at the moment, love,â he grinned. âIâm a bit peckish, if anythinâ...âÂ
Sighing, you quickly checked the man out again, this time eyeing his body. Broad shoulders, muscular thighs, thick legs...The total package. Â
âHurry, up! Iâm thirsty!â Someone from across the aisles said. The man was about to argue, but you halted him, nodding in the direction where the voice came from. Â
âI tell you what,â you said softly, lowering your voice as you stared into his eyes, your composure so controlled that it wouldâve been impossible to tell that your heart was pounding in your chest as you spoke. â-- Us staff have our own snacks. If you meet me by the toilets in fifteen, I can get you some...âÂ
âDonât leave me hanginâ, sweetheart.â The man grinned, not-so subtly uncrossing his legs and giving a cheeky wink before you headed off down the aisle. Gripping onto the handle of the cart, you tried your hardest to walk straight, excitement boiling in your loins as you counted down those fifteen crucial minutes with every strained smile at a customer.Â
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He was there when you arrived.Â
âTook yaâ long enough -â was all he said before cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a passionate kiss, pressing your body against the wall of the bathroom. It was by far the most glamorous place to have sex, but there was something about the sleaziness of it all (with such a put-together man, nonetheless) that made it that more enticing. His scent was an ode to his masculinity; aromatic and woody, and it consumed you as he kissed down your neck, nipping at your collarbone as his large hands caressed the sides of your body. You moaned, writhing your front against his pelvis, desperate to feel the outline of his erection against your own. Admittedly, you werenât entirely sure what to do with your hands, settling to drape them around his neck in fear of messing up his hair. He seemed like a man who took pride in his appearance, and he certainly wasnât going to be able to fix it up in an airplane bathroom.Â
âFeel me, darling. I donât bite...â he whispered, his hands now sliding between your thighs as he fought to push your panties to the side. You took this as a hint, and you combed your fingers through his roots with one hand, whilst the other fumbled to undo the button on his trousers, difficult to do with his considerable bulge. You let out a broken gasp as you felt his cock, likely over average sized with a nice girth, and he shuddered in response.Â
âGoldie, is it? Youâre a naughty one...â he sighed, slipping a finger into your wet cunt.Â
âMhmmm,â you crooned. ââS nickname. I donât suppose youâll give me yours?âÂ
âYouâre a bright bird, âm sure ya figured it out.âÂ
âTangerine, huh?â you hummed, throwing your head back as he began to finger fuck you, his gold rings adding the extra girth that would prepare you nicely for his cock. âI like tangerines...âÂ
âYa didnât seem to back there.âÂ
âWell, give me a reason to...â you chuckled, and he grinned, grunting before he hoisted your leg up around his waist, his cock dangerously near your entrance.Â
âBetter be quick,â you teased, staring at him through your lashes. âTheyâll get suspicious if Iâm not back in five.âÂ
Tangerine chuckled. Â
âI can do that. Just know itâs not a reflection of me at my best.â he sniffed.Â
âGood to know.âÂ
Your words were unfounded as he pushed into you, his girth filling you completely as you moulded perfectly around his cock, gripping onto his shirt as he began to buck his hips. The man grunted, accosting himself to the feel of your warm, wet hole â raw and unfiltered, sighing into the nape of your neck as he fucked you. He steadied himself with his hands, gripping onto your thigh with one as the other rested above you, lending him the luxury of staring into your eyes as he drilled you.Â
âGod...â you panted, your lips wet and raw from his kisses. âT-Tan -- Youâre so good...âÂ
âThatâs it, love,â he beckoned, words rolling off his tongue like honey as he rolled his hips deeper into you. âSay my name...âÂ
âTangerine...â you whined, eyes fluttering shut as you drowned out the vacuum-like ambience around you, focusing on the small grunts and sweet nothings the man whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending chills up your spine. The room around you was making a slight creaking sound, and you barely even cared that your calf was banging slightly against the door. Â
With every passing second his thrusts became more focused, solely intended to bring you both to that point of ecstasy- yet you didnât doubt that Tangerine was the kind of man who made sure you finished, even if he himself didnât. Â
His hair was beginning to become undone now, brown strands falling in front of his face, just barely clouding his vision, but enough to make him look even hotter. Both of your shirts became more and more dishevelled as he pressed up against you, the muffled sound of his clothed thigh against your bare ones becoming more frequent as he growled, the sound coming from deep within his muscular chest.Â
âFucking hell, darlinâ...âM gonna make a mess...â he hissed through laboured breaths. âIâve gotta pull out --âÂ
âItâs alright,â you lulled, and you couldâve sworn that his cock twitched at the phrase. âIâm on the pill...âÂ
âYou naughty girl...Youâre gonna get me in trouble --â he groaned, throwing his head back as he gave you a few fast and sloppy pumps, shutting his eyes as you clamped down on him during your own release, creaming around his cock as he filled you with his own. You dug your nails into his clothes as you rode off your respective highs, hair and clothes askew as he rubbed small circles your trembling leg before lowering it to the ground.Â
Panting, there was a brief silence as you dressed yourselves, with Tangerine preening himself in the tiny mirror.Â
âYou look good as gold.â You said with a smirk, fixing your hat. Â
âThanks,â he said with a broad smile, popping some gum into his mouth as he looked you up and down. âYouâre a dime a dozen, yâknow? Fly this route often?âÂ
âSometimes,â you hummed, opening the door so that the sign no longer read âoccupiedâ. âWhy, are you thinking of coming back?âÂ
âIâll be headed to Kyoto,â he said, looking around before he stepped out. âMaybe Iâll catch you there.âÂ
âYeah,â you grinned, fixing the final button on your shirt. Heâ fucked you so good you could barely even remember what your next journey was. âMaybe.âÂ
#florence writes!!#tangerine x reader#tangerine bullet train#tangerine bullet train x reader#bullet train imagine#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson imagine#bullet train x reader#x reader smut#atj x reader#atj smut#bullet train 2022
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deal - cl16 (17/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that itâs his apartment.
Chapter Summary: That's definitely not the goodbye you wanted.
Warnings: angst, jealousy, swear words
Word Count: 3.3k
series masterlist
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A/N: sorry for this shitty chapter and sorry for keeping you waiting! feedback is appreciated! love ya.
It's not long before Charles falls asleep next to you.Â
You hear his soft breathing, the way the bedspread rustles as he slides his arm under the pillow and bends his right knee. Apparently he's lying on his stomach, snuggled tightly in the warmth of the bed you'll share for the second and last time.Â
That Charles has grown so close to your heart in exactly three days is something you would never have thought was possible in your life.
After Raphael cheated on you and your friends let you down, you vowed to take better care of yourself and your heart and never let anyone into your life so easily again. You resigned yourself to the fact that you would spend the next time alone until you could put your trust in someone again. And that had been perfectly fine with you, as long as it had kept further pain at bay. Â
But the brunette Monegasque, without making any particular effort, has walked into your life as if God personally had opened the gates for him, and has taken up residence with you as if he were a virus that is taking you over completely.Â
You turn away from him, but you can still feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of fabric that lie between you.Â
The fact that he will spend the next few days in Italy is a good start to building the wall that will keep your heart from great harm. It will create some distance between you, buy you more time in which to figure out your feelings. And if it really comes down to you feeling more than simple friendship for your roommate, you'll still have plenty of time to think of some way to handle the situation.Â
You're about to press your face into your pillow so it can stop the whirlwind of thoughts in your head when your cell phone lights up.Â
Lando: Did you know that the Eiffel Tower is about six inches taller in the summer than in the winter?
Confused, but grinning, you glance at the screen. It's the middle of the night - why is he sending you such a strange message at this late hour?
You cast a glance over your shoulder to make sure Charles is actually asleep before releasing the key lock, lowering your phone's brightness to its lowest setting, and starting to type.Â
You: Didn't know that. Why is that?
The "seen" with the little checkmark appears directly under your sent message, and a few moments later the typical three dots that appear when a reply is composed flash.Â
Lando: Due to thermal expansion, meaning the iron heats up, the particles gain kinetic energy and take up more space.
You have to smile, even suppress a giggle.Â
You: You googled that for sure.Â
Lando: You got me. I didn't know the best way to start a conversation.Â
You: I'd say the middle of the night is generally not a good time to start a conversation. What if I had already been asleep?
Lando: Then you would have woken up confused for sure and blocked me right after the message.Â
You: Then you're lucky I'm still awake.Â
Lando: I'm definitely lucky.Â
Behind you, Charles moves a little, but doesn't seem to wake up. You feel him scoot a tiny bit closer to you, as if he realizes you're still awake.Â
Lando: Have you ever been to Paris?
You: Unfortunately not. I'd like to go there sometime, though. And you?
Lando: I've been there before. Maybe we can go there together? Then I can show you the most beautiful places.Â
You have to grin. Straightforward guy he is.Â
You: Do you really think I would just travel to Paris with a semi stranger?
Lando: You're right about that. But that can easily be changed. You and me, tomorrow, dinner at 8?
You feel Charles rest his hand on your bedspread. It's like he subconsciously realizes you're about to go out with one of his friends. He exhales deeply, but doesn't move any further.Â
You: That was very smooth, Mr. Norris.Â
Lando: So is that a yes?
Without giving it much thought, you answer the Brit with a "Yes, I'd love to," whereupon he responds with a "Great. I'll get back to you tomorrow. Don't stay up too late and sleep well" back. You press the key lock on your phone and put it back next to your pillow.Â
Time you do have. Charles isn't around, and you don't have a job to go to every day, so your days are as free as the beach in winter. And for sure it will do you good to spend time with someone other than the Monegasque. Lando is nice and friendly and funny. And since the two of you don't live together, and the level at which you're getting to know each other is much more superficial than the one Charles and you are on right now, you shouldn't be in danger of taking him to your heart as quickly as your roommate.
Who by now has moved so close to you that you can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. It's steady, coming in waves and brushing your skin like a warm summer breeze. For sure he is sleeping well, maybe even having a nice dream. He doesn't even know yet that it's the last time he'll sleep next to you.
You close your eyes, almost press your eyelids together and force yourself to fall asleep. With the ulterior motive that the person who is dearest to you right now is exactly the one with whom you will soon have to keep the most distance.
-
Something rustles.Â
The sound is close, but not so close that it could find its origin right next to your ear. It also sounds muffled, as if there is a thick piece of soft cotton between the sound and your eardrum, so you can't really hear what exactly is making that sound.Â
You press your face a little deeper into the pillow.Â
The rustling becomes louder.Â
Tired and with your eyes closed, you pull the blanket higher to your chin to cling to sleep. And for a brief moment it works, your mind slips back into a gentle slumber - until you hear a loud, unmistakable rumble.Â
Annoyed and above all confused, you open your eyes. Your cell phone reads 6:15 a.m. Who's making that kind of noise at this hour?
You sit up abruptly, as if you've been electrocuted, and the covers fall into your lap. Charles.
For sure he is packing up the last things before he wants to wake you up. To say goodbye to you. You're surprised you didn't hear his alarm clock. For sure he only rang it once briefly before your roommate turned it off so it wouldn't wake you up. Very kind and considerate.Â
You swing your legs over the side of the bed and slip into fuzzy socks so your feet don't freeze. As you tie your hair so it doesn't look like you've touched an electrical socket, you hear keys jingle.Â
Charles wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to you, would he?
Hesitantly, you go to the door of the room and open it slowly to make sure he's still there. And indeed, he hasn't left the apartment yet.Â
But he has shouldered his travel bag, his feet are in shoes, and the apartment door is open, as if he is about to take the first step out. When he hears you, he turns around.Â
Confused and still slightly sleepy, you stand in the doorway. You point your finger at the large bag. "Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?" you ask him, rubbing the heels of your hands over your eyes. Damn, it's definitely too early to be awake.Â
Your roommate steps unsteadily from one foot to the other. "I didn't mean to wake you." In his free hand, he holds his key.Â
You screw up your face. "But you wanted to say goodbye." You cross your arms in front of your chest. "You said you'd set an alarm so you could get up on time and we could say goodbye properly."
The situation is strange. You're standing in the doorway to the room where Charles shared a bed with you, as he stands on the threshold that separates this apartment from the rest of the world. It feels like he's trying to escape from what's happening inside these four walls. Like he can't wait to leave and leave you here.Â
He doesn't even want to say goodbye to you.Â
"I know, but-" he begins, but doesn't seem to know how to finish the sentence, which is why he just falls silent. His gaze wanders from your face to the room behind you before he lowers it to his shoes. He swallows once before looking at you again. "Can we talk about this another time?" he asks quietly. "I have to go."
What happened in the last few hours you were asleep? Did you do something to make him want to run away from here? To want to flee from you? The way he's standing there, he seems like he can't wait to finally leave the apartment. As if he had to quickly put as many kilometers as possible between you.Â
The fact that he doesn't want to talk to you about it unsettles you more than you'd like to admit.
When you were with Raphael, there were many arguments, after which you both went to bed without clearing up the situation or talking things out. That oppressive, stomach-churning feeling was so devastating and caused such nausea in you that you told yourself that you will never again let an argument or difficult situation just stand.
You don't want to go to bed angry. And you don't want anyone to go to bed angry and mad at you either.Â
"Did I do something?" you ask, letting your arms, which were crossed just a moment ago, fall to your sides. As a sign that you're ready to face whatever may follow. "Talk to me, please, Charles."
Of course, neither of you would go to sleep now. But the very thought that you won't see each other again for another four days, and thus parting, leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. Which you naturally want to get rid of as quickly as possible.Â
Demonstratively, he glances at his wristwatch. "I don't have time. Let's talk about it another time."
"It's 6:25. I thought you didn't have to leave until 7?"
He clenches his teeth. "I want to drive now." He's visibly tense, his hand almost tightening around the key. Charles doesn't want to drive. He wants to run. From you. And you don't know why.Â
Somewhere inside you, a small crack is opening up, uncomfortable, pressing on the pit of your stomach. Your discomfort worsens with each passing moment.Â
"What have I done?" you try again to get him to talk. You cross the room until you're standing in front of him. "Whatever it was - I'm sorry. I don't know what it is that I could have done that upset you so much. But I don't want you to leave now and be mad at me when we won't see each other again for another four days. Let's talk about it. Please."
It's almost pathetic how desperate you sound. Your voice trembles like it's going to break at any moment, and you can feel tears gathering in your eyes. You try to blink them away.Â
There have been countless situations like this with Raphael. It was always you who wanted to solve an argument. The one who tried harder. Who sacrificed more. And it has brought nothing.Â
Even though you two have only known each other for a few days, this argument is much worse. Because you don't know what you have done, and therefore you can't change anything. You can't find a solution here.Â
Charles doesn't seem to care that you are on the verge of crying. His gaze is hard and cold as he looks down at you. He looks at you as if you were a stranger just standing in his apartment.
As you reach out to him, he takes the last step over the threshold. The small crack inside you grows larger, now seems to have reached your heart, forming a great chasm. The wall that has been built so far has been of no use. It is completely useless.Â
"If you really want to talk to someone, why don't you talk to Lando?" His tone is icy and his gaze sprays venom.Â
Lando?
Charles seems to have picked up on your confused look. Annoyed, he rolls his eyes, which stings you further. "Now don't act like that. He texted me in the middle of the night asking what culinary cuisine you prefer for your dinner tonight." He raises an eyebrow. "And here I thought you'd already had an extensive conversation about it. What was it again? Canned soup and BigMac?"
Your discomfort gives way to an even more rotten feeling. Anger spreads through you like a wildfire you can't stop it. How dare he?
"What are you trying to say?" you ask calmly, even though everything is burning inside you. Charles interfering in this matter when he has no right to do so makes your anger spill over, but you know better than to take it out on him directly. You pull yourself together. Even though you'd like to strangle him, you don't want you two to fight.Â
"Come on, Y/N." His smile is spiteful and ugly - even though he's the most beautiful man on the planet. "We both know he's just trying to fuck you. So what's the point of dinner? It's just a waste of money."
Excuse me?
"What do you mean?"
He seems to think for a moment, as if he were struggling with himself to say the next words. "After all, what Raphael did to you doesn't seem to bother you much if you're going to date someone new right away. And you said yourself yesterday that you weren't going to meet anyone on this couch." He extends his free arm and waves it in a semicircle in front of him. "Let's do it, then. Monaco is full of rich men. Then you don't exactly have to hook up with one who's my friend."
Never in your entire life have you wanted to smack someone so badly as Charles at this moment.Â
He knows what Raphael did to you. And he also knows why your ex cheated on you. The fact that he now assumes that you would just jump into bed with Lando like that upsets you so much that you're at a loss for words.Â
You don't recognize him. The Charles who lets you stay with him for free, who makes you laugh, and who is so close to you at times that you have to consider how to protect your heart, has dropped off the face of the earth.Â
Opposite you is a mean and ruthless man you can't get away from fast enough. His words hit you harder than any blow could, and the tears in your eyes no longer originate in discomfort, but in pure rage.Â
You don't care what you did to make him act this way. You don't care what exactly happened between you that caused this argument to degenerate like this. And you don't care if you go to bed tonight mad at him.Â
This argument is different than the one over his phone call with Raphael or the one at dinner with his friends. It's too close, too personal, and for Charles to think of you that way, after everything you've told him about yourself, chokes your throat and makes your heart shatter into a thousand pieces.Â
"You can have the apartment," you say emotionlessly. Your fire is extinguished, your anger is suffocated. The only thing left is a dull feeling of grief.Â
How could you think Charles would be any different? That he would actually be a friend to you? You even showed him your favorite place. That wasn't even twelve hours ago.Â
"When you come back, I'll be gone." Your gaze is fixed on Charles, letting him know how serious you are. Something flashes in his eyes, but whatever it is - you don't care. "I hate you."
Without waiting for an answer, you close the apartment door. As you turn around, you feel like an intruder in your own home.Â
Which, theoretically, isn't even your home. It's Charles' home, it's his apartment. He's just been nice and let you stay with him. And he didn't do that because he saw a friend in you, but because he felt sorry for you, as you must now realize.Â
Did this "good deed" make him feel better? Did he let you stay here to prove to himself what a good guy he is after everything with Annika? Is he really that selfish?Â
Who exactly is Charles Leclerc?
You would like to leave the apartment immediately, because there is nothing that doesn't make you remember Charles. The couch reminds you of the evening when you drank wine and watched Cars. The kitchen table is where you eat pain au chocolat and croissants. The bathroom is where you grin at each other in the mirror as you brush your teeth. Charles is everywhere.Â
He's especially in the dark bedroom, too, when you return to lie down in bed. His sheets are still where you found them when you woke up, and his smell is all over the room, making it hard for you to breathe.Â
Pulling your own blanket up to your chin, you lie there staring at the ceiling, racking your brain as to where exactly you took a wrong turn. But for the life of you, you can't think of anything.Â
You turn on your side and take a deep breath. Charles' smell hits your nose and only now, surrounded by darkness and silence, do you allow yourself to cry. Tears roll down your skin and one sob after another escapes your sore throat, which feels as if it has been laced shut. Your body shakes like it's electrified and somewhere inside you think your heart has stopped beating.Â
The person you trusted the most has let you down. Your closest friend has dropped you without explaining himself to you.Â
But that's not what hurts so indescribably.Â
It hurts so much because it's Charles. The Charles you saw as your best friend after only a few days. The Charles who didn't judge you.Â
You slide to the other side of the bed and slip under Charles' covers so that you are now completely enveloped in his smell. You feel so close to him, even though he's so far away, and even though the warmth feels like a hug, you feel lonely. You cling to that hug that isn't a hug, because that's the closest thing you have left of him.Â
Tomorrow you would look for another apartment, maybe even move away from Monaco. And then you would pack your things and leave, just like you promised Charles. And you wouldn't break that promise - that deal, the way he broke his.Â
Not long ago, you didn't want to share the bed with him anymore, braced yourself for it to be the last time you'd be this close. You wanted to build the wall that would protect, should protect your heart.Â
But it's no use building a wall when your heart hasn't been yours for a while.
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#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc prompt#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc imagine#carlos sainz jr#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc headcanon#lando norris#Charles Leclerc fluff#Charles Leclerc angst
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Wake Me Up - Part 1
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that youâve been taken, heâll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.
AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse! Let me tell you, Iâve had this mini series outlined for months, but now I thought it was finally time to get to it. If youâre not tired of the Break Me Down world yet, I very much hope you enjoy Wake Me Up.
**As a reminder, this story is set shortly after Love Actually, and will contain references from that three-part story.Â
Song Inspo: For this whole series itâs âI Can Read Your Mindâ by the Doobie Brothers. (I pretty much listened to this on repeat.)
Word Count: 5.5K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Starting off strong in this one: with mature themes, show level violence, angst, kidnapping, PTSD, mentions of torture (not too graphic), and character death.
đ Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist
Part 1: âFamiliar Territoryâ
The start of a new year continued a steady rhythm for you and Ben. Namely, another successful mission for the Supe Affairs team.
While you were patched into the teamâs communications line from the safety of your desk back at the S.A. headquarters in New York, your friends were a few states over in Denver, Colorado. Theyâd just arrested a supe that had been committing a series of bank robberies by literally slipping away from the police, thanks to his particular superpower.
âSomebody better get this shit off of me,â M.M. groused.
He wasnât too happy about some questionable ooze this particular supe secreted as a defense mechanism. According to Frenchieâs research, it was the same shit that certain frogs could produce to repel predators.
âNeed a good hose down, more like,â said Butcher. âYou smell fuckinâ foul.â
âLike Satanâs ass crack,â Ben remarked.
You couldnât hold back a snort of amusement.
âLetâs just get the fuck outta here,â M.M. said, his tone all surly, as per usual. You didnât envy his plight.
âGood job, guys,â you said, to change the subject. âNow itâs just a short flight back to New York.â
âNo layovers this time. Iâm not being paid to rot in a fucking airport with a bunch of mouth-breathing assholes and their screaming brats,â Ben said.
Charming. You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips when you imagined his taciturn face.
âOkay, your majesty. Iâll make sure itâs a nonstop flight,â you said. âIâll be waiting for you at home.â
That last bit, you said with a hint of more behind your words. You drummed your nails on your desk and crossed your legs underneath it. A week was a long time for you and your boyfriend to be apart, and youâd been missing him.
âYou better be,â Ben said. His voice was deep and cocky. He was smirking, you were sure, and you knew that heâd understood you perfectly well.
âAnybody else hearing this blatant foreplay?â Hughie quipped.
âI sense cheeks will be cracked tonight,â Frenchie muttered.
âUgh!â you heard Annie shudder.
You knew she supported you and Ben, but you also knew that she didnât want to hear about the gushy details. You laughed through your embarrassment.Â
âOkay, guys. Iâll see you all tomorrow,â you said, before you officially signed off.Â
You grabbed your purse that was stowed away in a desk drawer, fished out your cell phone, and you called Benâs cell. He picked up on the second ring.
âYeah?â he said.Â
âI love you,â you said with a smile. âJust wanted to make sure you knew that.â
âMhmm,â he replied. âIâll see you soon, baby doll.â
You pouted. âCome on, say it.â
âSay what?â
You sighed. You knew he was being deliberately obtuse.
âYou know exactly what,â you replied.
Part of you was upset that he didnât say it back as often as you liked. God forbid Butcher and the others hear him express his affection for you.
But you supposed you understood that any kind of vulnerability was difficult for him, especially in front of others. As much shit as you gave him, you also knew how to pick your battles with Ben.
âI told you. Iâll see you soon,â he said.
You once again tapped your nails, on your armrest this time. After a moment, you relented.
âOkay, baby. Have a safe flight,â you said, even if you were still frowning.
When Ben hung up with you, he let out a deep sigh.
An entire week with these juvenile cocksuckers was almost too much for him to fucking take. While he often felt your presence with you on the comm line during the actual mission, and the occasional phone call on long nights in between, it wasnât the same. It wasnât enough.
He was ready to go home.
The flight itself was fine, though dealing with civilians and the tiring experience of a long-ass flight made him even more antsy to land. Because even when they got to JFK, he still had a hired car waiting for him to drive him from the airport to get to Scarsdale, and to the apartment he shared with you. It had already been almost a year of you two living there, in a three-bedroom spanning two floors.
Ben hadnât thought he would get used to such a small place, but it was all right. It had become his home, far more than the penthouses and party mansions ever were, at least.
When he finally got home and unlocked the front door of the apartment, he stepped into darkness. All the lights were off.
Odd, he thought. He called your name while he shut the door behind him, then flicked on the foyer light. He realized then that he hadnât seen your car in the driveway. Were you still working? It wasnât unlike you to get caught up with the paperwork and other logistics after a case.
After a quick look around of each room, from the kitchen to the living room, Ben knew you hadnât come home yet. A frown marred his face.
He went upstairs and entered the bedroom next. He unclipped his wrist guards and took his gloves off first, followed by loosening the collar of his supe suit. The bed was made, untouched since this morning, he was sure.
Then he noticed the scrap of paper resting on his pillow. He picked it up, and his brows furrowed as he read.
By the time you find me, sheâll wish she was dead.
Ben called Grace Mallory first.
When she didnât answer, he called Butcher next. Benâs hand shook the slightest bit while holding the phone up to his ear.
âEveninâ, guv,â Butcher answered with a tired sigh. âWhatâs this aboutââ
âWe have a fucking problem,â Ben growled.
Ben pushed the limits of his Mercedes Benz while driving himself to Supe Affairs.
The others met him there in a conference room, except for Grace, who was on an active case at the moment. There Hughie and Frenchie tapped into the S.A. security footage on their laptops.Â
They eventually found you getting into your car in the S.A. garage, about four hours ago. Then two later, the street cameras picked you up somewhere in the Village. Ben recognized the street.Â
You probably had dinner with your friend Yvette and her family, but you intended to make it home on time to meet Ben when you left around 9:00 p.m.Â
You had parallel parked at a meter on the street. According to the footage, it looked quiet and empty when you headed back to your car.Â
You were stopped by someone before you could get the driverâs side door open. It looked like a manâs height and build; he grabbed you by the shoulder and threw a punch you managed to dodge.
You put up a good fight, but you were eventually knocked out with what looked to be a crowbar, at first glance. When Hughie zoomed in, it was actually a black baton. Ben watched it all with a deepening frown. Anger churned in his gut and ignited his blood as he watched your unconscious body being hauled into a black SUV.
âThat looks military-issued,â M.M. said, pointing at the baton that the suspect used to hit you.
Butcher nodded, and also noted the manâs fighting style. âThatâs a professional.â
âHe would have to be, to take her out,â M.M. said, glancing at Ben. âAnd the timing. They knew you were coming home. That note was personal, besides the fact that they were casing your placeâŚtheyâve probably been watching both of you, waiting for the chance to get the jump on you.â
âThe question,â Butcher said, âis who the fuck would wanna tangle with Soldier Boy that badly?â  Â
âShit. Thatâs a laundry list, isnât it?â Hughie said. M.M.âs glance told him to shut the fuck up.
Ben was silent, but his fury was mounting. His head turned sharply to Butcher.
âGet Mallory on the line. Now,â he barked. When no one moved quick enough for him, his temper snapped at its thinly held leash.
âI said right fucking now!â
Slowly you blinked your eyes open. For a moment, you were seeing in double vision. It soon cleared up to reveal dark, damp, musty surroundings.
It smelled familiar; after that mission to find and subdue Sapphire a couple of months ago, youâd recognize a New York sewer anywhere.
Fuuucking shit, you thought with a groan. Your head was aching. You felt a trickle of blood down the side of your neck, and you found yourself in a familiar positionâseated on a metal chair with your hands secured behind your back. Your restraints felt like zip ties.
âYou finally with us, sweetheart?â asked a man. His voice was smooth and commanding.
âJackson, I donât know about this,â whispered someone else. Another man, though he sounded slightly younger, reminding you of Hughie.
âShut the fuck up, Tommy,â Jackson snapped.
At least you had a name. He stepped into the light that came from a couple of small lanterns. One was propped on top of a bucket by the wall. The other was on a plastic fold out table that you saw a few feet beside you.
The man who stepped into your line of vision was tall, maybe around Benâs height, if just shy of his build. He was blonde, just like his skinnier friend. They shared some notable facial features and coloring, but while Jacksonâs eyes were dark brown and self-assured, the younger manâs were blue and apprehensive. If you had to guess, they looked like brothers.
âNice digs,â you remarked, gesturing with your gaze at your surroundings.
Jackson rose a brow, crossing his arms.
âYouâre taking all this pretty well,â he said.Â
You huffed humorlessly.
âThis isnât exactly my first kidnapping,â you said.
He quirked his head and drew closer.  Â
âAll right. Well, since weâre on the clock, let me tell you why youâre here,â he said. He bent down in front of you so that his face was level with yours. âI need you, sweetheart. Youâre going to tell me how to bring down Soldier Boy. How to kill him. How to end him. Then maybe, Iâll let you go without gouging out those pretty eyes.â
You stared back at Jackson with an expression that didnât change.
Then you spat in his face.
And you expected the hard, back-handed slap that made your head whip to the side. It rattled you for a moment as you caught your breath, but you recovered enough to lean back in your seat. Your eyes met Jacksonâs directly after he wiped his face with his shirt. âTommyâ stood off to the side behind his partner. Heâd looked away when you were hit.
You focused on the other man, Jackson. He was wearing black cargo pants to match his boots, and a belt with a gun on his hip. He carried himself like a trained killer.
âMilitary, government agency, or private sector?â you asked.
His head tilted. He studied you, just like you were studying him.
âNone of the above really,â he said. âNot anymore.â
He walked over to the fold out table, where he grabbed a black bag and unzipped it. A flash of silver gleamed as he pulled out one sharp instrument after the next. You had to hide your apprehension, and fear that made your insides tremble.
He glanced over at you.
âLetâs get started,â he said.
Hours later, you were teetering on the edge of consciousness.
After the last hit, you spat a wad of phlegm and blood onto Jacksonâs shoes. He rotated the ache out of his hand. He looked down at you through furrowed brows.
âDamn, bitch,â he said, catching his breath. âYou can take a hit. Iâll give you that.âÂ
âMy dad was a Marine, numb nuts,â you managed to reply, through labored breaths. âHe used to hit harder with his open hand than all the strength in that limp-dick wrist of yours.âÂ
Jackson smirked. âChrist. Daddy issues, huh? Why doesnât that surprise me.âÂ
You gave him a droll look. Again, to cover your fear, because you werenât willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.
Angered and frustrated by that defiance, he reached down and grabbed your neck and jaw with one hand. You winced at the force of his grip, but when he started squeezing, this was the one thing that made you truly whimper. You tried not to think about the ghost of your fatherâs hand around your neck.
âDonât you get it, asshole?â you gritted out while struggling for breath. âYou canât kill him. No one can. Stronger, smarter people than you have tried.âÂ
Moments ticked by while Jackson contemplated your words.Â
Then he released you. You sucked in gulps of air and tried not to cough out a lung.
âMaybe,â he said. âBut Soldier Boyâs got a weakness. If anyone knows it, Iâve got a feeling itâs you.âÂ
You canât say anything. You canât, you canât, you canât.Â
That had been your mantra for every minute you had spent in this hole. You shook your head.
âLook, Jackson.â You sucked in another breath to steady yourself, and blink a drip of blood out of your eyes. âHeâs going to kill you. You and your brother. Take your family and run, while youâve still got a chance.âÂ
ââŚYou know what? Youâre probably right,â Jackson said, scratching the back of his head with his crimson-stained hand. âBut I just realized something.â
He leaned down again, until he was level with your face.
âWhen he finds you, drowned in your own goddamn bloodâŚI think the look on his face might just be enough for me.â
Your eyes widened.Â
It took days. Three painful days to pick up the threads, which led closer to home than anyone couldâve anticipated.Â
Grace Mallory put pressure across the chain of command, and even reached out to the FBI for assistance. An alert email finally came to her phone, and she realized that an agent on her own payroll had been flagged for never reporting back for his debriefing on a reconnaissance mission.
That agent was Jackson Rawlins.
The further she read into his file, the worse her frown became. She immediately sent the lead to Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team to run down. For the first time in years, Grace actually prayed.
She prayed that they would reach you in time. It wasnât until then that she realized it; she hadnât thought of you as a cog in her system for some time nowânot even as leverage against Soldier Boy. She was genuinely concerned about you.
Grace worried that she was setting herself up for disappointmentâŚif it was too late. However, she also worried about what would happen if you didnât survive. She considered how Ben might react, with that nuclear power within him that he was still learning to control. The consequences of this mission could very well be catastrophic.Â
You were losing track of time in this windowless pit. You knew it had been days, but you didnât remember how many. The cellar was cold, and the way sound and air traveled, it felt like you were underground. It certainly smelled like itâdamp and gross. It made you certain this was a sewer.
Now this is Satanâs ass crack, you thought. You winced at the pain that radiatedâŚpretty much everywhere. Blood had dried from various lacerations across your face, neck, chest, and arms, and bruises were dark against your skin.
Your blouse was in tatters, and your jeans had bleeding rips as well, though at least heâd kept your ankle boots on. You were too weak even for hunger. And a large, heavy chain attached to manacles on your wrists had replaced the zip ties. One end of the chain was fastened between the wall and a line of plumbing.
Footsteps echoed down the hall behind you. You closed your eyes and steeled yourself.
âAre we actually gonna have a conversation today?â Jackson asked.
âDepends,â you replied, your voice dry and coarse. âAre you going to tell me why you hate Ben so much?â
An angry sigh escaped Jacksonâs lips. He pointed up in frustration.
âBen.â Jackson rolled and cracked his neck, like just the mention of your boyfriendâs real name was disgusting to this man.
âYou talk about him like heâs a real fucking person. Not like the animal supe he is,â he said.
âHe is a person,â you said, both in exhaustion, and in pain. âAnd heâs trying to be better. Look, heâs done terrible things. Iâm not saying he hasnât. I donât know what heâs done to you in the past, butââ
Jackson shut you up with a sharp backhand. It made black spots encroach on your vision as you caught your breath.
You noticed his brother Tom come in the room as well, to watch and worry. He didnât seem comfortable with this way of things. He looked like a civilian. Maybe you could use that to your advantageâŚ
But you lost track of thought after that, when Jackson started in on you with either his hands, or the creativity of the instruments on the table nearby.Â
You tried to block out the pain, along with his questions about Ben. If you couldnât talk about him, you couldnât let yourself think about him. So you couldnât say anything.
Not about the Novichok nerve agent, one of the few things that had been found to incapacitate him. Not his imprisonment by Vought or the S.A.ânothing that your captor could one day use against Ben.
You canât. You canât. You canât.
Even though all you wanted right now was him.Â
Ben, pleaseâŚ
You zoned in and out of consciousness from there.
When you next registered being awake, mercifully, you were left alone. You raised your head when Tom came to blot at least some of your wounds and give you water. Youâd only eaten small pieces of protein bars for days.Â
âIâm sorry,â Tom whispered.
âWhy does he want Ben?â you wheezed. âWhy are you going along with this if youâre so damn sorry?â
Tom looked up at you with pain and grief in his blue eyes. He sighed and dragged a nearby chair from the table. He sat beside you while he fed you half a protein bar. It was a struggle to even get the pieces down.
âLast year,â said Tom, clearing his throat. âI lived in the building that Soldier Boy blew up when he got back fromâŚwherever the Russians had him.â
Your eyes widened as you processed that. âYouâŚbut you made it out. Whyââ
âI wasnât home. I was at work,â Tom said. His voice was pained as his eyes became red and glassy. âOur mom wasnât so lucky.â
You sighed, closing your eyes.
âShe was retired, and I was taking care of her,â Tom said. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed. âJackson wasnât here. He was on a mission in Colombia. Told me he was cleaning up some cartel shit.â
At that, you had a sneaking suspicion that coiled in your gut. Ben had left a bit of a mess when he peaced out of Colombia, with an entire plane filled with drugs and weapons from whatever cartel heâd infiltrated. (In his words, heâd cut the head off the snake.)
Grace told you sheâd sent a team in to handle that messâŚ
âYour brotherâwho does he work for?â you asked. Though you had a feeling you knew the answer.
Tom seemed to read your understanding, and his face turned grim.
âThe CIA,â he said.
Fuck, you grimaced. So not only had Ben been responsible for their motherâs death, but Jackson had been part of the team that cleaned up his mess in South America. It explained why Jackson was somehow able to find your information; Supe Affairs had become a subsect of the CIA, thanks to Grace.Â
âI didnât know he was planning this. I swear to God. All he said was that he had a way to get at Soldier Boy,â Tom said. You let out a deep breath.
âIâm sorry for your loss. I really am,â you said. Tears welled up hot in your eyes. âBut you need to let me go. For your own safety, believe me.â
You saw the guilt, the sadness, the regret on Tomâs face. The brief indecision was overtaken when he glanced down the hall. You knew then that he was more afraid of his own brother than he was willing to do the right thing.
Your tears spilled over, though you tried to breathe through it. Youâd tried to save them for when you were alone, those seldom few, cold hours, but you were reaching your breaking point.
âOkay, before I go, do you have to use the bathroom?â Tom asked. There was a bucket in the corner, and Jackson preferred it away from the chair. It was the only time Tom was allowed to unchain you from the wall and let you stretch your legs.
Letting out an exhausted sigh, you nodded in agreement. It was humiliating to know you were going to have to do this yet again, in a bucket, with company. With the manacles still on your wrists, he brought you over to the âspecialâ corner.
Tom sighed and looked away to give you some semblance of privacy.
That was when you used every scrap of energy you had left in you.
You grabbed the chain and yanked it out of his hands long enough to wrap it around his neck from behind. You cut off his sounds of strain and kicked out his knees, so he was forced to kneel on the ground.
You wrapped the rest of the chain around your thigh, giving you the leverage you needed to tighten your grip and choke him out, until he was unconscious. His body fell to the side, and you heaved for breath. Once again, there were black spots in your vision, but you did your best to blink them away.
Now set with determination, you made your way to the plastic table and searched for the key to your chains. After the manacles were unlocked, you rubbed at your raw wrists and rapidly scanned the room. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you calculated which way you should go to try and escape.
There were three possibilities in this clearing under the sewer: left, right, or straight ahead. Every time Tom or Jackson emerged, it sounded like it was behind you. The chair was facing to the east, which meant you had to take the left tunnel.
You ran in that direction and tried to find a metal ladder that would take you to whatever manhole cover these guys had detached. Someone couldnât just open up any of those iron plates without the right tools, from the inside or the outside.
You walked as fast as you could manage, even though your entire body protested in pain. Then finally, you saw a black duffel bag lying on the ground, against the wall. Next to it was a metal ladder that went all the way up to the top.
âJackson, donât!â
You heard Tomâs voice, but you felt the presence behind you too late. Jackson hit you in the back of the head with that damn baton, so hard that even he grimaced at how the sound echoed on the walls. You crumpled to the ground.
Jackson stood over you with a grim set to his face. He turned to his brother with a shake of his head.
âSheâs a walking welt, and you couldnât handle her?â he said.
âThis is too much,â Tom said in worry. He bent down and held two fingers to your neck. He still felt a pulse, at least, but when he felt behind your head, he found blood. His hand shook as he stared at it.
âIf you didnât want in on this, you shouldâve said so from the beginning,â said Jackson. He spun the baton in his hand and clipped the hilt to his belt, from a small metal loop on the end of it.
âYou didnât say anything aboutâŚabout this!â Tom argued. He cleaned your blood off on his jacket.
Jackson regarded his brother with disappointment, and he hefted you up into his arms. Tom followed him back to their setup with your makeshift prison. There Jackson left you lying on the ground, and chained you back up by your wrists for good measure. He then literally and figuratively wiped his hands of you.
âCome on, weâre leaving,â he said. âFor good this time.â
Tom looked at you, then his brother in shock. There was even emotion in his eyes.  Â
âWeâre leaving her to die,â he said, his voice unsteady. He knew then, that their mother wouldn't have wanted this in her name. If she saw both of them now, she wouldn't recognize them.
Jackson grabbed his younger brother where his neck met his shoulder. An iron grip.
âAnd what do you think Soldier Boy is going to do if he finds us?â Jackson asked. His gaze encouraged Tom to explore that reality for a moment.
Jackson nodded at your unconscious form. âTrust me, that bitch was never going to talk. But this is almost better.â
It wasnât right, Tom thought. He knew it, deep in his heart, but he wasnât strong like his brother, or even like you.
That was when they heard it. The rumble of engines dying and tires rolling overhead, dislodging a few stray pebbles and dust from the ceiling. Jacksonâs eyes widened.Â
âFuck!â he muttered. âAll right, letâs go.â
Jackson forced his younger brother to leave the sewer with him, and leave you chained up on the floor.
Ben, Butcher, M.M., and Frenchie had done much of the legwork in tracking down Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom (with help from Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie of course). Frenchie had found your likely location with a powerful thermal scanner, courtesy of Grace.
Now, theyâd driven up to the wide alley in the city and blocked off all the exits on the block. Ben was the first to get his boots on the ground and stride toward the point of entry, where according to Frenchieâs scanners, more than one body was holed up in the sewer. He held his shield at his side and at the ready when the manhole cover loosened, and slid open.
A small gas bomb rolled out towards his feet, but it was just tear gas, not the kind of thing that could actually affect him. Ben picked up the little round ball of metal and crushed it in his hand. While the rest of the team dove for the oxygen masks stored in the car, Ben stalked forward.
Seeing the silhouette of a man, Ben threw his shield hard enough to rattle a supe.
Jackson Rawlins was thrown clean onto his back with a force that stole the breath from his lungs, even through his gas mask. It also broke half a dozen ribs. Ben was soon bearing on top of him and ripping off the mask.
Jackson cried out as remnants of the tear gas seared his eyes.
âGot us a runner!â Butcher shouted. He intercepted and grabbed up a second man who tried to escape. Tom Rawlins wasnât the threat, but he still wasnât going free. M.M. and Frenchie also dove down into the sewer to try and find you after they got their gas masks on.
Meanwhile, Ben hauled Jackson up by his neck and walked him back until he hit the brick wall beside a nail salon. Jackson grunted in pain. Every breath he took was now agonizing, thanks to his now battered and broken ribs.
âWhere is she?â Ben demanded.
Jackson actually laughed in his face, despite his now bloodshot eyes.
âAll you fucking supes are the same,â he said. âBut youâŚyouâre the worst. Quite literally, the original asshole. And what does the government do? What does the world do? Gives you a pass on decades of indiscretions, fuck ups, and straight up murder.âÂ
Ben didnât outwardly react, but he knew what Jacksonâs problem was. He knew he killed the manâs family. Collateral damageâsomething that had caused Ben more than one argument with you in the past.
But he didnât care.
He didnât care, because all he could see in his mindâs eye was a metal bat hitting the back of your head and knocking you clean out. He saw you being taken against your will. Taken from him. And that, he couldnât abide.
âWhere. Is she?â Ben said, as his grip flexed around the other manâs neck. It would be easy. Easier than snapping a toothpick. And he warned, âDonât make me fucking repeat myself.â
âDead, probably,â Jackson spat, despite his red and bleary eyes. âReal tough bitch. I see why youâre fucking herâŚI had me a little taste myself.â
In that moment, Ben couldnât compute.
His green eyes widened. His breath stilled.
Then his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth were grinding. A fire in his blood and behind his eyes, and fury that burned hot in his chest, almost giving it that nuclear glow.
His hand tightened and choked any salacious words Jackson mightâve spewed out next.
âHe didnât!â Tom shouted out. He was being restrained by Butcher. Ben glanced at them out of the corner of his eye. Â
âHe didnât touch her. Not like that,â Tom said. He looked sincere. Â
âShut the fuck up, Tommy,â said his older brother.Â
It earned Benâs attention back. Jackson had the look of a man who knew he was going to die either way.
Benâs lips curled into a sneer. He took the manâs head with both hands, and slowly crushed his skull. The scream echoed between Benâs ears, but he was only satisfied when Jacksonâs lifeless body dropped at his feet.
He turned to the other Rawlins next.
Tom had screamed as well to watch his brotherâs life ended before his eyes. He now stared straight into Soldier Boyâs, pleading wordlessly for his own life. Ben started toward him.
âPlease,â Tom said. He tried twisting away from Butcher, who held firm to the manâs arm. The Brit knew all too well, the rage that Ben had in his blood.
âBen,â Annie tried, and she even stepped forward. Butcher held a hand out against her with a knowing look. It wouldnât be wise to stand in the way.
âHey!â M.M. shouted up from down the open hatch of the sewer. âWe found her! Need help getting her loose.â
Ben paused in his steps. Tom was shaking, lips trembling, petrified.
Tilting his head, Ben let out a subtle breath through his nose. He began to turn back toward the sewer.
At the last moment, however, he drew his gun and shot Tom Rawlins between the eyes. The man was dead before he hit the ground.
Annie and Hughie flinched, but Butcher and Kimiko werenât surprised in the least.
Meanwhile, Ben made his way back towards M.M.âs voice, and into the sewer. He heard M.M. and Frenchie arguing about first aid and head wounds, the further in he went. Benâs dark mood blackened even more along the way.
Once he reached them, he also reached you, held in M.M.âs arms as he cradled your head.
You were unconscious with your wrists locked into heavy chains. The furrow between Benâs brows deepened, but he got down to his knees beside you and first, broke your chains. He guided you out of M.M.âs arms and into his own, making sure to support your head. Blood was already staining his half-glove and fingers.
It was then that he noticed the small crimson pool lying where your body had been, likely from the wound he could feel at the back of your head. Benâs mouth trembled the slightest bit, mostly in anger as he drew himself back onto his feet. Your body was littered with bruises, cuts both shallow and deep made by what looked like a blade, and God knew what else.
âI had me a little taste myself,â Jackson had taunted.
No, Ben internally shook that thought from his mind. No, you hadnât been touched like that, at least, according to the sniveling, cock-sucking brother.
But can you trust that little cuntâs word?
Ben briefly closed his eyes, pressing his lips to your forehead. He continued walking down the hall and towards the light and fresh air of the world above.
Youâre gonna be just fine, he promised you, if just within the safety of his mind.
Yeah, you would be all right.
He was going to make sure of it.
AN: 𫣠I'm sorry...BUT, I can promise it will get better (eventually). First, it's going to get worse.
Next Time:
It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well trimmed.
His head soon raised, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.
âHey, sweetheart,â he said. His voice was deep and smooth. âHowâre you feeling?â
You didnât have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.
âIâŚI donâtâŚwho are you?â you asked.
âśď¸ Keep Reading: PART 2
Ko-Fi Me â
Break Me Down Masterlist
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26
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#Wake Me Up#Part 1#Familiar Territory#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x female reader#Soldier Boy/Ben#the boys#the boys AU#the boys season 3#the boys amazon#soldier boy fanfiction#billy butcher#jensen ackles characters#jensen ackles#Break Me Down#BMD-verse#zepskies writes
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Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife #10 : Snack Time
Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Momma bird hungry for all the snacks in the world. Takes some time and frustration before Joel figures out the exact kind of snack you really want.
Warnings: Pregnant reader, Angry!Joel, oral M!receiving, face fucking, throat bulge, throat-pie, dumbification, junk food binge, eating meat, bossy reader as always
18+ ONLY
- - - -
Joel didnât know he married the Hungry Hungry Hippo, Galactus the planet devourer, Garfield the tabby cat.
Youâre on your phone texting while cuddling Joel. Heâs more interested in the movie than you are, but that doesnât stop him from tracing his finger along your arm, occasionally kissing the top of your head and nuzzling his nose. He loves the scent of your shampoo after a wash, damp and cold against his warm chest. Sometimes you protest how closely he wants to cuddle you, all smushed up on the couch. Your body temp skyrocketed with the baby changing everything. But since heâs keep the AC on full blast, your warm heavy body keeps him from being a popsicle.
The landlines chimes in from the kitchen.
He rolls his eyes. Of course, something to interrupt the comfort that took 40 minutes for you to settle into. "I'll get it,â He grumbles quickly and hoists himself up off the couch. He wants to make whoever the fuck is calling at such a late hour a quick convo. If itâs fucking Tommy needing bailed out again, he thinks begrudgingly, Iâll just hang up on him.Â
He clears his throat and answers: âHello, Miller Residents.â
"Can you get me a bowl of Cap'n crunch while you're up?"
He glances back over at you sitting up on the couch, your cell to your ear as you wave at him. you point to your belly mouthing I T SÂ F O RÂ T H EÂ B A B Y.
Itâs for the baby, my ass. Youâve been a hungry hungry hippo whoâs been snacking like crazy and ignoring the doctorâs warnings.Â
But cranky Momma is way worse than a scolding doctor.Â
He grits his teeth and slams the receiver a little too hard down on the desk.
You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, a clash of a bowl on the counter and the jingle of overly processed cereal filling it up.Â
He walks back into the living room. Youâve taken up the whole couch now, with no inclination to move over to let him back on.
You shove a fist into the bowl and pop a bunch of the crunchy orange squares into your mouth âfâanksâ you mumble, eyes not once making contact with him as you stare ahead and much away. Crumbs fall onto your chest and down to the floor and sofa, as if Joel hadnât just cleaned all of it this morning.
.
The next night, Joel's cooking some steaks. You werenât really a meat-crazed person, having maybe one or two helpings of poultry or occasionally red beef a week, but normally ,you could go without it for a few meals without thinking about it.Â
Pregnant momma? She was a fucking carnivore. He had barely set the sizzling steak down before you snatch one onto your plate. He turns around to slice into one, checking its temp before serving, only to see it was a bit too red and bloodied on the inside.
"Oh babe I gotta cook these a little longer; they're too rare--"
You were hacking away and tearing a large chunks of the red, near pulsing meat, juices pouring out your lips, a vampire gorged on a fat blood sucking meal. Despite its tenderness, you chew endlessly and stare off into the table like a Llama enjoying its food on the field.Â
"Maybe...we shouldâslow down a bit,â he suggests with uncertainty. His fork and knife frozen in midair, still in each hand. He hasnât shifted view or blinked, but clear worry (and maybe a tad bit of fear) stretch across his face.
"Uighgrrfmggmmdeeofxsw,â you reply with gargled cow remains sloshing in your wide open trap.Â
 âRight. That."
You swallow whatâs left. Joelâs does a double take: your steak is somehow gone, juice licked clean off the plate in front of you.
âCan I have yours???"
He had only sliced 4 cuts for himself so far. But the hungry look in your pupils, licking your lips while watching his dinner, itâs clear youâve answered for him. He sadly sets his cutlery down and slides his plate to you.Â
Its even more interesting when you douse it in salt and throw a slab of butter on top of it, watching it melt before slicing a big chunk off.
"You gotta watch the salt intakeââ
ââCan you make chicken? I want chicken now.â
âN-no,â he shakes his head, whiplash from the conversation. Maybe youâve gone def AND blind AND lost your taste buds. âI made steak. You've had 2 steaks now. Why do you need chicken?â
âThat second one was for the baby. The chicken is for me.â
âWhat about the fist one?â
ââŚ.We split that.â
âAwfully hungry baby,â he says with a dead tone, straight faced as he eats the one roll left in the basket that hasnât been devoured by you.Â
âWell sheâs yours, isnât she?âÂ
-
You wipe your face with a napkin, a fried chicken leg and wing now securely packed tight in your tum tum along with the famished baby.
"What's for dessert?" You chime eagerly.
Joel turns to wash the dishes, hiding his smirk. Heâs got you now, no surprise cravings will catch him short on this one: He boasts proudly, âI bought you apple pie--"
"I want cupcakes. Whip cream icing. Chocolate.â
His grin quickly deflates into a frown. âNo.â He says sternly, a little aggravated. âI bought you pieââ
"Did I say I want pie? L I S T E N,â you snap, slapping your palms together with each syllable.Â
He puts his foot down with tense sudsy hands going to his hips. âNo. I'm not going out again.â
You raise your eyebrows threateningly. One look.
30 minutes later Joel is shuffling into the house with a pack of 12 cupcakes he bought at the bakery.
-
Youâve managed to prop yourself up on the couch after some heaving. âHa! The baby is making me workout get strong! Obviously thatâs why Iâm so hungry.â You shrug it off. âOh! I want raw cookie dough.â
Joel was on his phone the entire time, but the second you said I want, his brain queued in and he quickly retorts, âNo.â
He goes back to replaying the voicemail he missed, settled and focused on the opposite couch.
Of course he Doesn't realize youâve somehow lumbered up past him and now waddling back with 4 chunks of raw cookies in your hand, popping them in your mouth one at a time.
His eyes dark up to watch you, transfixed on the screen as you bend your knees, hardly paying attention to the way youâre about to fall on the couch. He has half the mind to help, but whatâs one lesson you need to learn the hard way?
Regretfully, you bounce down successfully and pull your legs up.
And then, as you dust your hands off from the chocolate stains melted on your palms, Joelâs lips part in a o as you reach behind you and pulling an entire gallon container of animal crackers.Â
"Babe"
"Wha?â You donât turn around to look at him, still shoveling them into your mouth. âYuu wan wan?"
"You need to stop eating every damn thing in the house.â
You gasp incredulously, your hand over your heart in painful offense. âThe baby is very hungry! She's related to you and that belly.â
He only remembers to stop himself from reminding you that your belly is much bigger than his now.Â
"The babyââ (that was the new thing now: the baby this baby that. The baby is why I need this shirt in blue and green. The baby is why I need the ice cream layered horizontally not stacked vertically. The baby â)
"No. Not the baby,â he snaps. âYou."
You start to cry. "I thought I AM your baby!!!"Â
He gives you a âseriouslyâ look and you stop the fake tears.
âSo how about it?â
âI donât want you getting salmonella.â
âugh fine. You can bake them I guess.â
Heâs about to protest the idea of any dough going into your body, cooked or raw, but knows its going to be a lost cause.
Joel makes you a platter of Assorted cookies: chocolate chip, fudge, triple chocolate, sugar, and oatmeal raisin.
You clap your hands as he carefully places the little plate atop your bump. Humored by the custom âminiâ table youâve got going on now. Maybe his baby doesnât like her head being used as a countertop, but with the way you close your eyes and moan after biting into the chocolate chip, babygirl must be pleased too.
He goes to the bathroom quickly and then comes back only to glare down at you. You've taken exactly one bite out of every single cookie, leaving crescent shapes for him to scathe.
Every cookie, except oatmeal raisin. You clearly did take a bite ,but spit it out and put the lump back near the undesirable #1 cookie.
âThese mine?â Joel asks bemused.
You nod happily. You felt very proud to have enough control and leave him some this time!Â
-
Itâs about 9:30 pm. You're acting drunk and woozy even tho you're just a new level of tired and achy
"Woopppoooooo!!! Paaartttaaayyy!" You shout with fists in the air, drinking down a shot glass of sugar water.Â
âAlright party Momma. Itâs bedtime.âÂ
"Ppfffttt! No old man! Dont steal my fun.â
Joel stands over the couch, blocking your view from the TV, his hands on his hips. âYou're being difficult "
âYoUârE bEiNg DifFicUlT,â you mock and wave him off. "Oop I need to pee. Help me up.â
Joelâ grabs both your grabby hands and hoists you up to your feet. âNow up the stairs, you.â
You waddle towards the stairwell, one hand cupping your lower back. Joel is right at your heel. you up at the treaturous journey ahead, all 8 steps to the top floor. Cracking your neck side to side, you wave your arms over to the handrail and begin: âLeft foot. Right foot. Left. Fuck. Fuck stairs. Who invented stairs. Left footâŚâ
Joelâs so sleepy that he nearly falls forward. And he knows you would not take too kindly to him ramming his face into your ass as you battle your worst enemy.
Finally to the top, you scurry over like a penguin to the bathroom. He fears the long night ahead, with all the sugar swirling in your system undoubtedly going to keep him up.
He rubs his wears eyes. Startled when a moment later youâre right next to him by your side of the bed, patiently waiting for him to help you up.
"Get in the covers,â he hums with exhaustion.
But you donât move. âNo"
"Now.â
"I want an orange.â
"No. Youâyou just had your snack."
"That was the baby's snack. I want MY snackâ.
Dear Christ almighty, bless me with a boy next time so that I have a fighting chance against her and mini her. âIf I get you an orange, will you go to bed?" He asks irritably, his voice enunciating each word to ensure the contract that heâs making with you right now is solidified on both ends of the bargain.
You think it over before nodding with a little innocent beam.Â
You crawl into the covers just as Joel descends the stairs once again. It takes the entire time for him to grab some oranges, a peeler, and paper towel just for you to rotate your middle and sit your ass in bed.
You sit up against the headboard and clap your hands, so excited when he reappears with the goods. He puts the towel on your mini-table bump and plops one orange atop.
Joel sighs and begins to walk towards his side of the bed, but is haunted when you clear your throat for his attention.
âYes?â
"Peel it.â
He tries not to visibly roll his eyes before he's opening the round orange with his large fingers and clubbed nails. Everything smells like nectarine now.
Picky as can be, you peel off the extra dried white veiny bits and suck on each pod of the orange.
You expect a sweet simpleness to squirt on your tongue, but instead, a sour, bitter, unripe taste floods your mouth. âUgh these are gross, now I wantââ
Joel closes his wardrobe drawer, his shirt off and only halfway down to his boxers. âNO. NO means fucking NO. IâM TIRED. YOUâRE TIRED. WE'RE GOING TO BED. NOW,â he barks sternly into the mirror. His shoulders huffing from such aggression without being able to look at you.
You throw the covers off, orange skin and slices flying everywhere.
âFuck you! I want ice cream! I want bananas and steak and potatoes and tacos andâ!"Â
-
He bares his teeth in a snarl, deep angered eyes casting downward with each poignant rut. âYou're so annoying, so goddamn spoiled,â he grunts. His huge hands are wrapped around the top of your head and cupping your jaw and bulging cheek, keeping you in place as he pushes his length into your mouth over and over again. âYouâre gonna do shit when I tell you, the first time I sayâshitâfuck there we goâgonna listenâunnggghhfffâlisten ta me from now on. Just be my good little silent. Slutty. Pregnant. Wife.â
Your teary eyes are fixed upward at his imposing figure. Feeling each time his tip nudges the back of your throat has you gagging but you canât pull away to breatheânot that you want to.
âYou getâwhat I give yaâand you be grateful bout it.â
You gargle a moan in agreement. His balls slap against your chin with brutal punches. by this time tomorrow, there will be Joel-finger prints bruising your face and neck.
You love it. You love it when Joel forces you out of the hormonal phase of bossing him around, the endless need to want more and more, no end in sight to your greedy gluttonous desires, until heâs blowing up and blowing off steam using you instead. And it becomes very clear to you how much you just really wanted him this whole time.Â
âThatâs itâthatâs itâyou were hungry for my cock werenât ya? Yeahhhh. Just begging me all night for it. Wanted all that meat for dinner, huh? Couldnât just come out nâ say it? Your little brain didnât know what ya truly needed. Sâokay, Momma. Iâm takinâ care of ya, arenât I?â
The gluglugglug sounds mixed with strained pitchy whines echo in the master bedroom.
You grip his thighs with your hands to steady yourself, allowing him to abuse your throat. Maybe your knees hurt. Maybe the baby is settling uncomfortably against your lower back, and maybe itâs going to be really difficult to get up from this position in a few minutes. But each thick throb of his length filling your mouth over and over again, the spit slick strings dropping from your lips to your swollen tits, and the dent in your throat from his cock stretching to accomodate his size has your swollen pussy dripping into the carpet for more, more, more.Â
Itâs been at least a week since Joel drained himself. No wonder heâs been so on edge with each demand. Usually marveling how cute you are, but tonight he was at him limit. You were about to get a hefty, Joel Miller sized load filling your belly, and itâs going to be better than any cookie, steak, or orange in the entire world.
He feels the way your lips suction tighter. Your eyes are leaking tears, and he smirks as he brushes his thumb over to collect it. Briefly bringing it to his tongue and sucking on the salty taste before holding your head in place.Â
âShhh-shhhhhhhh. You gonna take it? Shitâshitâfuck yeah you are. Gonna fuckin take what I give ya, thatâs right. My sweet wife. Bossing me around. Shit. Love when ya get like this. Known Iâm gonna wreck that ass or that pussy or that mouthâall belongs to me. Fuckâfuckâfuuckkââ
His mouth drops into an o, brows drawn tightly together as slams his pulsing member balls deep into your mouth one final time. You choke, eyes wide as the tip of his cock breaches the deepest part of your throat, your nose suffocated by his pubic hairs and the fat of his lower belly surrounding your cheeks. His balls twitch against your lower lip, and you feel it coming. The travel of his seed from his sack, up his shaft along your tongueâa generous spurt of cum finally shooting from his tip and down your throat. You gag with each fat load that he pumps down your esophagus, too much to swallow at once yet having no other choice but to gulp it down quickly. Your face feels hot. Heâs cumming endlessly, your mind blanking and eyes feeling blurry.
âTake it, take it, take it, thatâs it,â he hisses through clenched teeth.
You nod just a little, hugging your arms around his thick thighs tighter. He grins, humming âThatâs my good fucking wife, and throws his head as the last of his pleasure makes its way safely from his sated balls to your full womb.
Joel pulls you off his length gently. You sputter out cum and saliva onto his feet, sucking in air through your lungs like a newborn.Â
Joel gets to one knee, his thumb pressed gently under your chin so you look directly at him. Heâs got such softness in his eyes again, the ones that just switch on a dime the second heâs satisfied his aggress out on you.Â
Youâre completely wrecked: snot spit connecting to your nostrils and swollen lips, cheeks warm and eyes puffy and hazy with exhaustion and tears.
âThatâmmffffgg!âwasâdefinitelyâmyâsnack,â you rasp with a hoarse voice. A lazy grin spread across your face only briefly as you continue to suck air.
Joel shakes his head before planting a long kiss atop your forehead. his hands glide along your body, and just in time as your knees give way and youâre falling into him.Â
If you had half the mind right now, youâd curse him out for scooping you up and carrying you to bed like his once youthful bride, too concerned with the size and weight of your new body putting unnecessary stress on his aging knees and back. But Joel doesnât protest once. Just watches you with loving eyes as he settles you into the soft bed. His tongue dips to your chest and breasts, kissing and sucking away any remnants of his rough face fucking. His cum, your spit, and fuvk it, even the little snot specksâall of it he cleans up before coming up to your lips. He kisses you softly with gentle pecks, enough to ensure you can still catch your breath. He sucks your lower lip into your mouth before wiping his own with his thumb. Youâre calmer now, sated and drifting so close to sleep.
Joel clambers into bed next to you, wrapping his arm under your head and swaddling you close. You instinctively roll into his embrace. Kissing his peck and rubbing your face against him dreamily with soft breaths. âTha hit ther spert juss rite. Ur da bess, Jol.â
âI know. So are you.â He waits for a reply, but nothing comes from you. âAre you goinâ into a food coma, baby?â
Your gentle snores answer him, along with the drool now pooling on his peck.
He chuckles and pulls your head into his face, inhaling your scent. Strong, secure, graceful hands caress your big belly. Your very very full belly, the one that heâs not going to envy when it gives you a the tummy ache tomorrow from stuffing it with so much junk food tonight.Â
- - - -
Taglist:
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop
#pedro pascal smut#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#last of us fanfiction#last of us smut#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#tlou smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us smut#the last of us fic#last of us fic#joel dealing with preggo wife
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The Dark Lord (Part One)
Summary: The reader gets caught stealing from the infamous Dark Lord Winchester. Instead of killing her though, he offers her a job for some reason...
Pairing: Dark Lord!Dean x employee!reader
Word Count: 2,500ish
Warnings: language, briefly mentioned torture/killing
A/N: Think of this as a slightly magical AU set in the present day. I might pick this up again if there seems to be interest in more!...
________
âI donât care what the hell you do to me, Iâm not-â You cut yourself off when a blonde woman in her thirties and sky high heels held out a cup of hot coffee. âIs thatâŚespresso?â
âItâs a roasted blend from Guatemala, boss is big on it lately. Heâs so boring and never letâs me give him anything but straight black but I like to serve all our guests something nice.â She set the cup in your hand, an artisanal drawing of a W set in the center. âIt has notes of hazelnut and caramel.â
âThank you?â you said, her eyes lighting up. âIs thisâŚpoisoned?âÂ
Her face fell so fast you felt awful for the way tears prickled her eyes. âEveryone always asks that. Itâs just nice coffee.â
âIâm sorry,â you said, taking a sip and smiling. âItâs lovely.â
âThanks,â she mumbled, turning to leave the dark room you were sat in.
âIt really is good coffee.â She perked up a little, nodding once. âItâs justâŚI couldnât help but ask.â
You held up your chained hands, the woman giving a sad smile. âDark Lord Winchester is really the sweetest man Iâve ever met. I have no idea why everyone that he has come in his office thinks heâs going to kill them.â
âHe kills people all the timeâŚover nothingâŚâ you said. She laughed and your stomach dropped.
âOh no, Lord Winchester doesnât do that! Iâve never seen him kill a soul that didnât deserve it. Well, maybe a few but I seriously doubt heâll kill you! He doesnât tend to kill women as often, just a little torture. Iâm sure youâll be fine!â You withered into your seat when she left.
At least you had good coffee before your demise.
You jumped when the door crashed open, hot coffee spilling over yourself. It dripped down your shirt and soaked into your jeans, your skin stinging when a blur passed your periphery. You swallowed thickly as a man in a black bomber jacket, dark gray t shirt and black jeans walked in front of you. He crossed his muscular arms as he leaned back against the desk, peering down at you.
He looked like he wanted to kill you. Or fuck you. Or both.
âHi, Dark Lord Winchester,â you squeaked out. He bent at his hips, leaning down, watching you slump down even further. âOh fuck, just kill me now.â
âNot yet,â he hummed, straightening with a hard set jaw. He looked down his nose at you, making you feel like an ant under his mighty six foot one muscular frame. âMy security caught you stealing from one of my warehouses. Iâm told it was a prescription drug.â
âYes, Lord Winchester,â you said quietly. You looked at your wet clothes, waiting for him to drag you down to his dungeon and rip you apart.
Instead a cell phone was tossed in your lap. You scrunched up your face and gazed up at him, Lord Winchester still staring you down.Â
âUh, is this my last call or something?â you asked. He breathed deeply, looking over your head.Â
âTwo options. Option one. I will kill you for stealing from me.â
âIâd like to hear option two,â you said quickly, Lord Winchester glaring at you.
âOption two. You work for me. I need an assistant and perhaps Iâll find you valuable enough to keep you alive long term.â
âOption two,â you said, nodding your head. He stood up straight and hummed.Â
âI thought so. Youâre dismissed,â he said. You glanced down at your cuffs, Lord Winchester ignoring you. He walked around behind his desk and sat, glancing at his computer. âDo not make me ask again.â
You scurried out of the chair, grasping the empty mug in one hand, cellphone in the other.Â
âY/L/N.â You froze, back to him. Fuck, heâd changed his mind. He was just toying with you. He was going to- âGet up to speed this afternoon. I expect you here to start eight am sharp.â
âYes, Lord Winchester.â Quickly you left, pulling the door shut behind you. You let out a sigh, your overly friendly coffee bearing companion rushing around the corner with a smile. âI told you he wouldnât kill you! Boss made me promise not to tell. Iâm Donna by the way. Deputy Head of Security. I volunteered to be your new hire buddy!â
You blinked slowly at the blonde, tilting your head, her eyes drifting downward in alarm. âOh no, youâve burned yourself! Letâs get you out of those cuffs, to the infirmary and into a fresh change of clothes. Lord Winchester wants to go through all of your HR paperwork today and a brief tour before sending you home.â
âI uh,â you put a hand against your head, shaking it out. âWhy did he give me a job and not kill me?â
âHe must like you. Normally he kills people or tortures them or makes them pay him back with hefty interest. Oh!â She pulled out a thin envelope from her back pocket, handing it to you. âThis is your offer letter. Itâs not really an offer, more of you have to accept or you die sort of thing but he wanted to make sure you got this.â
You felt like you were in a strange dream as you tore it open, slowly walking by Donnaâs side down a hallway. âSo Michael is our staff doctor. Heâll check your arms-â
You nearly fell when youâd read the salary on the offer letter. Donna caught your waist, alarm written all over her face. âOh my god. Iâm calling for-â
You shoved the paper in her face, taping the bolded line. âIs this a joke? Heâs paying me this much?â
Donna laughed, urging you to walk forward again.Â
âSix figures? Six figures?!â you screeched, Donna shaking her head. âWhat-â
âWorking for Lord Winchester is lucrative butâŚthereâs an expectation of discretion. I mean, he is the Dark Lord of the land. Itâs not the sort of job you want to slack off at.âÂ
âWonderful.â
It was late, well into the evening, when youâd finished with your tour. You were in the lobby of Lord Winchesterâs fortress, rubbing your eyes. Michael had given you a pair of scrubs to change into while your stained clothes were sent to the launder. Thankfully heâd deemed your skin only irritated from the hot coffee, not burned. Most of the day had been in HR, Donna sitting in to help guide you through your options.
Options like free healthcare. A pension. On-site housing. As his assistant, or âPersonal Executive to The Dark Lordâ as your title in the payroll system stated, you were expected to live in the fortress and move in this weekend. All covered and utilities paid for by the company.Â
A chef that cooked all your meals, if you were so inclined. Shuttle services to and from school in town with a tutor available after school to help with homework. A grand library for kids to study in and for the adults to further their own educational studies if they chose. There was even an inter-company softball league that got quite competitive.Â
Dark Lord Winchester on paper was the best fucking boss in the world.
A throat cleared behind you, making you jump and drop the stack of papers in your hands. You spun around, Dark Lord Winchester standing there.
âSorry, sir,â you said, kneeling down, attempting to pick up the papers as quickly as possible. To your surprise, he dropped to one knee, leaning his body and grabbing a folder that had your company credit card inside. He held it out to you, deep green eyes watching you as you hesitated to take it.
âIf youâre going to work for me, you canât be scared shitless all the time.â You snatched the folder, his eyes raising briefly before he stood tall. He held out a hand, your own eyes wide. âThis is where you put your hand in mine and I help you stand up.â
You swallowed, doing as told, his strong arm effortlessly pulling you up.
âLook at that. You touched me and didnât turn to dust,â he chuckled. You only stared, Lord Winchester looking over your head. âLet me make something clear to you. I treat my employees extremely well. In return, I expect their best work and their loyalty. If you show up to work and do a good job, there is no reason to fear me.â
âHow do I know Iâm doing a good job?â you whispered. He looked down to you, pursing his lips.
âYouâre the damn Executive Assistant to The Dark Lord. You ask a question, you do it with confidence. Ask correctly and Iâll answer.â
âHow will I know Iâm doing my job well?â you said, holding his gaze this time.Â
âAny woman that would risk stealing from the Dark Lord, knowing very well what I do to thieves, to get medicine for their kid brother? That is the kind of woman that I know will do spectacular in this job.âÂ
You parted your lips, Dark Lord Winchester glancing at them before looking away. âHow do you-â
âI know lots of things.â He checked the dark rolex on his wrist, frowning. âItâs late. Iâll drive you home myself. Wait on the front steps.â
You watched him go down a different hallway, your head going a million miles an hour.
What the fuck was happening?
You stepped outside and five minutes later, an older black Impala, very nicely taken care of, pulled up, Dark Lord Winchester behind the wheel. You slid in the passenger seat, a wonderful aroma in the air. He drove you home in silence save for the soft rock music playing through the speakers.
Your face burned when he drove that beautiful car through your less than glamorous neighborhood and as soon as he pulled to a stop in front of your very small rental, you were getting out.Â
âY/L/N,â he chided. You stopped halfway, Lord Winchester reaching into the backseat and pulling over the back a large white bag. âFor you and your brother. Dinner and his medication for a few months. Michael will be able to refill it when itâs up and can schedule a physical with him to check if his treatment needs to alter. Please apologize to your brother from me. Heâs likely frightened being alone judging by the way every light is on inside.â
You shook your head, your lip tugging up. He narrowed his eyes as your smirk grew. âWhat is that look for?â
âDark Lord Winchester my ass. Youâre a good person, arenât you?â He scoffed. âNah, Iâm starting to see this for what it is. Donât worry. I wonât tell anyone youâre nice deep down.â
âIâm not nice,â he growled. You took the bag from his hand, softening your smile. âDo not think Iâm kind.â
âOh, of course not,â you said, holding up the bag. You got out, closing the door behind you. But you bent down, leaning into the open window. âThank you. HeâŚhis asthmaâs been getting worse lately. This will really help us. All of it will help.â
He was quiet, looking out at the dark road. âA car will pick you up at 7:30. Movers will come by Saturday morning to pack up your things.â
âGoodnight, Lord Winchester,â you said, stepping back.
âItâs Dean,â he said, revving the engine, making your heart race. He took off, your chest still thumping when you went inside.Â
âKyle! Iâm home with dinner!â You called. Kyle came rushing out of the hallway, a blanket pulled over his head. âIâm so sorry Iâm late, buddy. Did you get scared?â
âNo,â said the twelve year old, doing an awful job of hiding his relief. âWhatâs for dinner?â
âIâm not sure. Why donât you find out for us?â You handed him the bag, Kyle rushing back to the kitchen with it. âHow was school?â
âFine.â He said nothing more as you entered, pleasantly surprised to find a balanced dinner of chicken, vegetables and some sweet potatoes inside. âIs this take out?â
âNo. I uh, got a new job today,â you said, opening the box that had his medicine inside. âHey. Got you a refill.â
âWhatâs your new job?â he asked, taking a plate from you and scooting into his spot at the small two seater table.
âI uhâŚwork for Dark Lord Winchester. Weâre, uh, moving on Saturday to live at the fortress. Youâll have your own room and thereâs some other kids that live there too for you to play with. He uh, actually wanted me to tell you how sorry he was for keeping me late tonight.â
âReally? Cool.â You rolled your eyes. âDoes he actually wear a skull mask and a black cloak?â
âNo,â you laughed. âHe looks very normal. Maybe youâll get to meet him someday.â
âCool,â he said again, frowning when you pointed at his untouched vegetables. âY/N-â
âEat them or Dark Lord Winchester wonât be happyâŚâ you chided, Kyle shrinking down into his seat, reluctantly taking a bite, a flash of surprise on his face.
âThese are way better than when you make them!â He started to scarf down the brussels sprouts as you sighed.
âIâm not dead and youâre eating veggies for once. Iâll take that as a win for today.â
The Next Morning
âGood morning, Lord Winchester,â you said as you rose from your desk outside his office on the far end of the second floor, dressed in skinny jeans, a bright yellow sleeveless blouse and an oversized blazer. Dean looked you up and down, his eyebrows raising. âHR said the dress code-â
âIf I wanted everyone to wear suits, Iâd have everyone wear them. Your outfit is fine. Youâre probably not going to wear heels with the running around youâll do,â he said, entering his office, waving for you to follow after. His legs looked long in the dark denim that clung to his thighs. He wore a white long sleeve Henley shirt with a navy button up over top, sleeves rolled up his forearms. âIf you would stop staring at me could we get started?â
Your face flushed as you sat in the chair opposite his desk, Dean sitting with a groan and greedily sucking down a cup of coffee.Â
âSo your job is to make my life easier,â he said, opening his laptop, frowning at it. âI get a lot ofâŚrequests from my department heads. I need you to be a buffer between me and them for the day to day. I also need you to handle pop ups and act as a sounding board for myself.â
âHR went over the expectations with me,â you said, Dean grunting as he drank more coffee again.Â
âGreat. I need you to start with brainstorming ideas for how to rescue my brother from Crowley. Weâll meet after lunch to discuss.â
âKing of The Dark Lands Crowley?â Dean hummed. âIsnât heâŚâ
âA demon? Oh yeah,â he said, giving you a barely there smile. âShouldnât be a problem for a little thief like you.â
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A/N: Read Part two here!
#supernatural#spn#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#dean x female!reader#dean x you#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader#supernatural fanfic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean fanfiction#dean winchester one shot#x reader#au#au!dean#dark lord!dean x reader
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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.Â
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) 5â6 brunette with the most encaptivating greenish eyes and the feistiest demeanor youâll 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.Â
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 youâd first laid eyes on her.
Through the multitude of years youâd 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.Â
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.Â
It was even funnier when theyâd 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 youâd be able to even fit on the bed in the first place.
âWhat are you going to wish for?â 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.
âMaybe a contract from Barcelona.â You tease, looking down at her unamused face, shrieking when she âattacksâ you, jumping onto your body and tickling your sides. âNo, no, stop, stop, I wonât, I promise.â You gasp out between fits of laughter, Julia quickly retreating with a satisfied look on her face.
âMhm, better keep that promise. I canât stand seeing your little sad face when I beat you.â 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 werenât just studying her entire being when she turns around, Julia makes her way back to the bed, resuming her position on the bed.
âSit up lazy.â You roll your eyes at the playful insult slipping from her lips, begrudgingly sitting up and facing the shorter girl.Â
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.Â
Closing your eyes, you blow the flame out quickly, only one thing repeating in your mind as you do.
âAll I wish for is you, Julia.â
It puts a small smile on your lips, that much you canât 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.
âSoooo, what did you wish for?â She asks playfully, smirking at the silly smile painted on your face.Â
âI donât wish and tell Juli, those are the rules.â You make a play on the popular saying, backing away from her slowly, as if she wouldnât notice. Her eyes narrow at you, like she knew something you didnât.
âOh really, thatâs how it is?â 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.Â
âMhm, thatâs exactly how it is mi amor.â 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 didnât 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.
âDo it.â 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. âKiss me.â
You donât 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.Â
âWas that what you wished for?â She asks, her hand pressing against the middle of your chest to almost stop you from catching her lips with yours again.
âYes, you, all I wished for was you.â Julia smiles with her whole face, looking at you all sweetly like she always did, that love in her eyes stronger than ever.Â
âGood, because thatâs what I wished for too.â Your expression turns confused, like you couldnât understand what she was saying.
âYou wished for yourself too?â The girl has to keep herself from rolling her eyes at your stupidity, instead laying down on the bed just beside where youâre still sitting up and extending her arms out for you to crawl into.
âYouâre a dumbass.â 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.
âYeah but Iâm your dumbass.â 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.
â----------------------
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, thatâs when facetime was used the most.Â
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 youâd 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 hadnât lost a game the whole season, undefeated in Liga F and you wanted to break their streak.Â
Definitely not because a certain someone was in the crowd, waving enthusiastically every time your eyes met as you warmed up. No, it wasnât her.Â
You wanted to impress her, not that youâd ever tell her that, seeing as youâd never hear the end of it if you did.Â
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.
âY/l/n, itâs time, go warm up.â 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 youâre 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.
âThis 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.â The commentators explain to the people watching the game online, looking on as the game restarts, the ball in Barcelonaâs 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.Â
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 teamâs 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 youâd 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.Â
The next player running towards you is a certain Aitana BonmatĂ, undoubtedly one of the best players in the world and a player thatâs 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.Â
Next up was MapĂ Leon, a player that wouldnât 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 youâve already chipped it straight over her outstretched legs, running to the edge of the penalty box.Â
The last line of defense, PaĂąos, 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 doesnât 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, thatâs 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 thatâs 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.Â
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.  Â
âSo are all Barca defenders this short? Or have I just struck gold today?â You tease Mapi, whoâs elbow meets your ribs harshly, almost making you double over in pain. There wasnât much muscle protecting your dear ribs yet, or the rest of your body to be fair, so impact was felt to the full extent.
âAre you not meant to be doing your fifth grade homework?â 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.
âArenât you supposed to be playing bingo with the other elders? Or can you just not reach the table?â 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 âthat one was for youâ to the world class defender. All in good fun of course, you wouldnât 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 youâd 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, youâre interrupted in your daydreaming by a hand in front of your face, a hand leading up to a player in blaugrana.Â
âYou had a good game kid, next time though, could you not score a hattrick off the bench?â Mapi helps you up and off the ground, shaking your hand properly as you just stand there, a silly smile on your face.
âI can score a double hat trick with a start if that would make you feel any better?â 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 girlfriendâs 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.Â
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 girlfriendâs eyes shift from your own to something behind you, eyes widening exponentially at what she found.
âWhatâs up?â You ask Julia, who just continues to stare at something over your shoulder.
âEnemy, 6 oâclock.â 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 youâre standing next to your girlfriend is the last thing you were expecting, but thatâs exactly what was happening.
âWhat the fu-â 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.
âYou played really good today Y/n, impressive for your age, donât be surprised if you hear from your agent within the coming days.â She smiles before turning on her heel, almost whiplashing you with the quick statement.Â
Looking back at the brunette, she meets your gaze with a knowing look in her eyes and a smile stretched across her lips.
âAccept it.â Julia tells you silently, the fond look never disappearing off her face.
âWhat?â You ask the Real Madrid youth player, not understanding what she meant by that. There wasnât a world wherein Julia Romero would tell you to join Barcelona.
âIf you get a contract offer from them, you have to accept it.â She clarifies, looking you in the eyes deeply, like she was telling you that she was being fully truthful, which she was either way.
âWhy?â
âItâs whatâs best for your career, I wonât let a little rivalry destroy us. Plus it'll make El Clasico 10 times more fun when Iâll absolutely crush you.â She winks at the end, making you blush once again.
âOh in your dreams, pretty girl.â Starting to walk back to your locker room, you keep up the conversation with your girl, walking backwards to see her.
âYou know you are.â 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.
Itâs just like you to score a hattrick against the best team in the world then trip over your own feet walking backwards.
â---------------------------
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 thatâs 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 Vickyâs house. Sure it cost you a good 100 euros every time, with the train tickets and the so-called âVicky bribeâ, 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 youâd lived with the English women, they hadnât suspected anything, not that you had a girlfriend nor that you went and visited her as often as you possibly could.
Well they didnât 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.Â
â-------------------------
The first El ClĂĄsico you had played against your girl had ended in a 4-1 win to Barcelona, with you scoring a brace and Julia scoring Madridâs 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 donât waste a second before taking the hand in your own, pulling the girl down onto the ground instead of pulling yourself up.
âLia, my sweetheart, what are you doing down on the ground?â 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.
âYouâre an idiot, you know that.â Nodding along with her words, you mirror her, sitting up and leaning your weight back onto your hands, smiling mischievously her way.
âYeah, youâve told me like a gazillion times.â Wifting your arms around as you speak, you donât notice Lucy and Keira making their way over to you and your âfriendâ.
âTold you what?â Lucy interrupts, looking between you and Julia rapidly, trying to understand the relationship there, friends or something more.Â
âNothing special Lucifer, did you want anything or did you just come to interrupt?â Stifling a laugh at Lucy's expression, you look at your girlfriend, thinking youâd 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.
âRight, Robert, Keira, this is my childhood friend Julia, who unfortunately plays for Real Madrid which means sheâll never win anything ever.â 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.Â
âJulia Romero, nice to meet you both.â The way youâre looking at her definitely exposes you more than it should, but you donât mind it, the two women in front of you knew nothing about your love life as it was.
âChildhood friends you say? Nothing elseâŚ?â Lucy really wasnât smooth, or subtle for that matter as she tried asking you the question they were both thinking.
âChildhood friends, weâre actually best friends but I didnât think that was a worthwhile distinction.â 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 Juliaâs face and that was all that mattered.
âAlright, alright, just wrap it up soon, the bus leaves in 15.â The two leave after that, and suddenly youâre just standing with your girlfriend, all alone.Â
âWell, I should get going, my teammates are probably wondering where I am.â Her voice trails off as she points over her shoulder and you smile, raising your eyebrows softly.
âIâll see you in a couple weeks.âÂ
As you both make your way back to your respective locker rooms, youâre both oblivious to the bets being placed on what your relationship actually is.
â------------------------------
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. Itâs 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. Itâs 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, itâs 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 youâve won another Champions League.
You won the Champions League.Â
You donât realize it until after youâve all gotten your medals and done the trophy lift. No, it isnât until thereâs a sprinting Julia Romero heading your way that you actually register it, you won.Â
Thereâs a split second between when you catch her and when you make the decision to kiss her that you canât 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 wouldnât be able to just fall off.
The kiss is just magical, PG enough so that you donât 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 thereâs 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.
âWhy are you crying baby?â Tears were still rolling down her face, no matter how much you tried to wipe them, they kept on coming.Â
âIâm just so proud of you, look at how far youâve come. You won the Champions League.â Smiling at her adorable reasoning, you lean in to kiss her once more, well that is until youâre interrupted, yet again by a certain someone.
âChildhood friends huh? Nothing more? I knew you were together, I could see it.â Turning towards Lucy, you roll your eyes at the statement, clearly she did know a little, but obviously not everything.
âSo you know that I actually didnât sleep over at Vickyâs all those times then? That I was really in Madrid all those times?â You tease, which was probably a bad idea, considering the fact that you definitely were not allowed to go to Madrid over the weekends. âAmor, Iâll see you in a little.â You rush out before you start running, Lucy wasting no time and chasing after you.
A calmer looking Keira comes up to Julia, whoâs standing there dumbfounded, and offers her the hand thatâs not clutching onto the trophy.
âWelcome to our little family, they do that sometimes, same level of maturity, them two.â Julia shakes her head fondly, looking at the terrified expression youâre wearing as you get chased around the pitch. âTheyâll calm down soon, then we can take some pictures together, all of us. Youâll come home with us later, right?âÂ
And even though Julia knew sheâd 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.Â
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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MY DADDY'S LOLLIPOP âĄ
pairings: james sunderland x fem!reader
synopsis: You've been acting up ever since he got home, snuggling against him in the wrong way, watching a scary movie. And he decides that enough is enough, beginning to put you in your place. Teach you how to be a good girl again.
cw: MDNI, INCEST, DEAD DOVE, SLIGHT OOC JAMES, nipple play, unprotected p in v, creampies, oral (m receiving), guilt, mentions of mary, dirty talk, spanking, daddy kink, desperation, virginity loss, slight body worship, slight somno, pet names, manhandling, pregnancy kink, praise/degradation kink. lmk if i missed anything.
wc: 4.8k
masterlist & my ao3
thank you @bunnyclaire for proof reading <3! tags: @gettingsilly @withonly-sweetheart not sure who else 2 tag... also forgive me if there are some errors, fixing it in ao3 and then pasting it here is ass. </3
You hum your way around the house, clad in a nightgown and your underwear. It's too bad your dad couldn't make it back in time to start a binge fest of scary movies. It's not fun when you watch them alone, but you decide to do so anyway.Â
 Picking out Scream, you push play. Snuggling up into your warm and thick blankets on the couch. With your snacks on your lap and your drink on the coffee table, you are all set!Â
 Since you rewatch the same movies every year, you know the plot like the back of your hand. Even though you know it so well, you still jump at the scary parts and your heart thumps wildly. If your dad was here, he wouldn't stop teasing you for every little jump.Â
 As the night goes on, you begin to nod off. With your hand in your bucket of candy and your head tipped back a fluffy pillow. You made it through at least three movies before getting too tired to continue the binge of movies. Groaning, you shift in your sleep.Â
 The loud buzzing of your cell phone on the coffee table immediately wakes you up. Your heart leaps out of your chest as you frantically locate the source of the noise. The house is quiet and dark, except for the few noises from the fridge in the kitchen. Picking up your phone, you see it's your dad.Â
 âMm.. dad!â You croak out, rubbing your eyes.Â
 âHey honey. Just wanted to let you know I'll be home soon, okay? Make sure the front door is locked. Are you having fun watching the movies?âÂ
 Humming, you set the bowl of candy down on the table as you pad your way to the door. Double checking if you locked it or not. âI already locked it dad. I fell asleep watching one of them, it's just not the same without you. Hurry back,â you whine into the phone.Â
 James sighs deeply, âOkay. See you soon.â He hangs up and you turn to flip the switch so there's light in the living room. Making you squint your eyes to see for a few moments.Â
 Cozying back up in your spot, you put on The Nightmare Before Christmas. Perfect movie to fall asleep to. Pulling your blankets up over your shoulders, you begin to munch on your candy.Â
 This time, you set down the candy as you feel yourself getting tired. Yawning, you snuggle your face into your pillow. Allowing your eyelids to droop and get heavy. The TV slowly begins to muffle out into background noise.Â
 It doesn't even wake you up when your dad finally gets home thirty minutes later. Opening the door and finding you curled up, with the movie playing at a low volume. James sets down his bag on the table after locking the door and kicking his shoes off.
 Humming as he shuts the TV off, picking your body up carefully, with your blanket still wrapped around you. He pushes your door open and sets you down on your soft mattress. Adorned with the few stuffed animals he bought you or won for you.Â
 Grunting, he begins to tuck you in. Quickly going back to grab your pillow and place it under your head. As soon as he deems you comfortable enough, he begins to walk away.Â
 âDaddyâŚâÂ
 But you sleepily grab onto his arm, tugging him back to lay with you. You know, you're getting too old for your dad to hold you until you fall asleep, but that doesn't mean James won't not do it. Especially when you are trying to keep yourself awake for his sake.Â
 âSweetheart,â he starts, climbing into your bed behind you with a grunt. âI'm sorry for not being here with you on time. Forgive me, okay?â He presses a chaste kiss to your hairline and you nod a few times.Â
 âGood.â James wraps his arms around you loosely.Â
 Feeling the warmth of his chest press against your back just makes you melt. Nobody will ever top your dad. He's always going to be the best.Â
 And you immediately knock out. He doesn't leave just yet, knowing that sometimes when he leaves, you wake back up. So, a lot of the times he ends up falling asleep next to you too. Resting his forehead against your shoulder. The rise and fall of your breaths and the soft mumbles lulls him to bed.Â
 His arms instinctively flex and tighten around your middle, drawing you closer to him. It's the days like these where your mom's death gets to him. That damn disease taking her away from you both. Your dad pretends he's alright, that her death didn't take away from his life. Didn't take away the little joy of simply being there, alive, and able-bodied.Â
 It doesn't help that you have the same sad eyes as your mother. Oh, no. Not one bit. Does it bother him? A little, but deep inside it festers into something else. Enjoying the fact you are becoming more like his late wife than a different person. Your own person. He just pushes those thoughts away because you are his baby girl. Not his dead wife.Â
 Really gets him going sometimes when he sees you dress up all pretty in those skirts. Showing off your legs with your pantyhose and thigh high socks. Sometimes those skirts are a bit too short for him to feel comfortable with you being out and about in them.Â
 He can't police you on what to wear and not to wear. What does he know about fashion? Nothing. Has worn the same MG65 Field Jacket for years. As long as it doesn't have holes in âem, he'll wear them to death.Â
 Especially when you ask nicely for him to take you out to the mall or to simply go on a walk with you. Who goes on walks dressed like that? You do.Â
 It doesn't click in his mind on why you choose those shoes when you know you've gotta walk a lot. Thinks they're cute anyways, blisters aside when you start bawling about your feet hurting. So, yes , daddy does carry his little girl around when she needs him to. And yes, you are spoiled. Probably a bit too much if you ask anyone else.Â
 Hours later, you groan, stretching your body. Feeling your dad's body right up against you. Blinking, you squint, looking around the room. It's still dark out, drawing a large exhale out of you. Maybe you can start up the movie marathon with him again.Â
 Turning around, you begin to shake your dad awake. âDad, wake up. Wake upâŚâ you grumble, hearing him breathe heavily like he's about to wake up.
 âDaddy, wake up!â Raising your voice and pushing him to lie down on his back. Climbing over his lap and sitting down, beginning to shake him with more force. All of that motion causes you to sort of bounce against his lap.Â
 James's eyes open slightly, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. âHmm.. baby? What's wrong?â Blinking and furrowing his eyebrows to see you. Breathing heavily as his body fully wakes up.Â
 âLet's go watch our movies, please?â Holding yourself up by placing your hands on his chest.Â
 His hands squeeze your hips as he opens and closes his mouth, thinking of what to say. All he can think about is how this sight of you sitting on his lap like this, makes his cock start to harden. The weight of your body, the feeling of your shapely ass and your flesh, it's all so stimulating.Â
 Groaning, he closes his eyes. The fat of your hips and the way his fingers sink into you, makes him imagine you bouncing on his cock. Him holding and helping you keep steady as you work yourself on him. Crying out for daddy as you cream around his girth.Â
 âOkay.. okay.â He nods quickly.Â
 Leaning down, you kiss his cheek with a giggle. âLet's go!â Getting off of him and running out of your room, into the living room. The sound of your bare feet hitting the hardwood echoes throughout the house.Â
 James gets up, âI'll be right there honey. Let me change into something more comfortable.â Walking over to his room, closing the door and stripping down. Throwing his clothes into the laundry basket, he opens the door to his walk-in closet. Stepping into his plaid pajama pants and tugging on a random shirt.Â
 Sighing, he looks down at his little friend. âOh for god's sake,â shifting it around so it isn't visible anymore. Praying it goes away soon. It would be so embarrassing for you to notice it and put two and two together.Â
 He isn't ready to tackle that kind of stuff yet. James walks out of his room and makes his way to where you are at. Finding you all curled up and putting another classic movie on.Â
 âAre you cold honey? I can go and get your blanket and we can share it, if you want.âÂ
 âI'm okay. I can just cuddle up to you,â giggling, patting the cushion behind you. âCome sit here.âÂ
 James slips behind you, trying to keep some distance between your ass and his naughty not-so-little friend down there. While watching the movie, his arms swoop around you as you slouch against his chest. Feeling you jump at the sudden noises, he has to stifle his laugh. So cute, he thinks.Â
 Towards the end of the movie, you wiggle to be snug against his chest. The warmth transferring to your back. Sitting up and repositioning your head to be comfy. Holding onto his left arm, feeling the bit of muscle he has.Â
 He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. And the movie ends, you scramble to switch to a different movie. Feeling your ass touching his groin, so.. so.. sooo snugly. Looking down, he watches the way his cock kicks against the confines of his pajama pants, begging to be freed. Sweat begins to form on his scalp, beading soft droplets around his hairline. It's okay, it's okay James.. justâjust relax. He sighs, placing his hand on your knee, the other one still wrapped around your waist.Â
 Your skin runs hot and tingly as soon as your dadâs hand is on your knee. Wanting to squeeze your legs shut, feeling your cunt throb and ache. Remembering the times you have accidentally seen him touching himself. How he spat on it, just to tug it faster. The soft moans and groans he let out, being careful not to draw your attention with the volume. At that point, you started to tiptoe back to your room to finger yourself. Covering your mouth with your free hand, as humiliation flooded your veins.Â
 But, you keep still, knowing and feeling his hard-on against your back. Wanting to appear as innocent as possible, as you make him horny. You push back, wiggling like you are resituating yourself. Grinding, catching the way his hands and arms flex, inciting a smirk out of you. Halting your movements, you turn your head, pressing your lips against his cheek, near the corner of his lips.Â
 And he dips down and kisses your temple. You titter and lower your chin to your collarbones, feeling his fingers start creeping their way towards your side. Knowing heâs about to start tickling you.Â
 The movie is simple background noise, drowning out the creaks of the house. He laughs behind you, warm breath tickling your ear. Then, his hands start attacking your ribs and armpit, erupting a guffaw.Â
 âDad, stopp!â Squirming, you push down, trying to get away from his hands and eventually your head lays right next to his bulge. Kicking your feet, you fail to get his hands off of you. Laughing so hard, your cheeks are stained a cherry tomato red, and you're beginning to sweat.Â
 Without even thinking about it, you turn and press your face just a few centimeters away from his no-no zone. Just wanting to hide yourself away from his tickling fingers. His hips jumped up a centimeter or two. A puff of warm air exhales from your mouth has James hissing faintly.Â
 Hearing him react to where your face is located, you smile mischievously. Deciding to take it up a notch, see how he acts. Relocating yourself on his stiff member, nuzzling into it.
 âWhat is this, dad?â Your voice is muffled, vibrating against him. âIs it candy?â Soft and innocent as you can be.Â
 âOh,â he twitches against you, âuh⌠it-itâs nothing special, honey.â
 âYou're lying, I know you're hiding candy away from me dad! I want to see what kind it is,â you shift onto your haunches, furrowing your eyebrows and pursing your lips. Grabbing the waistband of his pants and boxers, tugging it down impatiently. Cunt throbbing and leaking slick into the gussets of your panties.Â
 And his dick springs out, standing straight to your attention. Before you could do anything, James grabs your hands and yanks you over his leg as he situates himself to sit up properly. Feet laying flat against the floor.Â
 Without a warning, he hikes up your nightgown and gropes your backside. Pulling a cheek and spreading you open, just to let it go and smack your ass. Squealing, you writhe on his lap, feeling tears start to flood your eyesight.Â
 âBad girl,â he scolds you, âI don't remember teaching you how to be a slut. But since you want to see it so bad, I'll teach you how to be a good girl again. Spank you over and over again until you've learned your lesson.â His rough hands hit against each cheek until you are full on sobbing.Â
 âGot that, baby?â James rubs his hands across, soothing your sensitive and raw skin. Welts of his hand prints are all across them, making him bite his lip at the sight. âSay, âyes daddy' .â
 âMm.. y-yes daddy,â you whimper out.Â
 âGood girl, now get on your knees and take that nightgown off, sweetheart.â Patting the back of your thighs as a signal.Â
 You pry yourself off of him, legs wobbly as you stand between his legs, sliding off your nightgown, leaving you in your red cotton panties. Holding onto him as you get on your knees. Looking up at your dad, with a pink tear stained face.Â
 Leaning down, he presses a kiss to your forehead, his thumbs wiping away your tears. âSuch a good girl,â he hums, stroking your hair. âNow open that filthy mouth for me.âÂ
 Opening your mouth, staring into his clouded eyes, waiting for your next command. Hands on his thighs, trying not to look down at his lap.Â
 âNow, baby, daddy's going to feed you what you thought was candy. Okay?â His right hand pulling away from your head and giving his cock a few strokes. Watching you nod and blink slowly at him. Slowly, he guides his tip into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your hot, wet mouth on him.Â
 âSuck on it like a lollipop,â Jamesâs left hand gently holds your hair back. âYeah.. just like that, princess. Just like that.â Loving the way you suckle on the tip, going down with a slow pace.Â
 You close your eyes, the weight of his fat dick is heavy on your tongue. Heavy, but perfect. The taste is salty and bitter, with a hint of sourness. Moaning around his girth at the praise, you decide to try and take him deeper. Wantingânoâneeding to hear your dad praise you in that sweet tone. Nails digging into his plaid pajama pants, you gag loudly, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Jerking your head back to cough and catch your breath.
 âGood job baby, daddy's so proud of you. Who knew you could take it like a champ?â Tugging your hair back to make you look at him, he ravages your lips, sliding his tongue into your wet cavern. Kissing you until your lips are swollen. With each and every whine, his manhood twitches.Â
 He knows he shouldnât be thinking about Mary at a time like this, but god, your lips felt the exact same as his wifeâs. Shouldnât even be comparing you to your mom. If anything, it makes the dark, fucked up part of his mind have the need to ruin you in a way a daddy mustn't do to his offspring. You are his daughter, he knows he would treat you better than any other guy would. You are his princess, the apple of his eye, his whole world that he is clutching onto with every fiber of his being.Â
 Your hands grab onto his shoulders, arching your back and pressing yourself towards him and the cushions. âDad,â you swallow down his spit, heaving after an intense make out session. âPlease touch me daddy, please.â Saliva dripping down to your chin, mixed in with his precum, and blown out âfuck meâ eyes are currently being ingrained into Jamesâs psyche.Â
 Groaning, his hands being to traverse over your chest, taking his time to truly admire you. Eyeing you up and down, he mumbles praises, as his eyebrows pinch upwards slightly. âStand up for me,â giving your tit a squeeze, his eyes following the movements of your body. Resting at your waist, he plants kisses across your sternum. Teasing you into thinking that heâs going to immediately latch onto your nipples.Â
 âWhere do you want my hands honey? Show daddy where you need him the most.â Making his way to your breast, deliberately avoiding your areolas. Worrying your skin as he flickers his gaze from your face, down to your chest.Â
 Grasping him, leading them towards your underwear. âRight here daddy,â your voice is soft and airy, giving the illusion that you are innocent. When in fact, you are the complete opposite of it. It's sort of like a roleplaying thing for you.
 James finally starts to lick and suckle on your stiff peak, switching between the two until they are puffy and red. Dancing around the waistband, groaning when you tug on his hair. âSo impatient, baby,â he grips the fat of your hips, moving you closer to him. âSit on daddy's lap.âÂ
 You do as he says. The wet, lukewarm saliva and cum mixture paints an inch or two of your skin. Shivering as his breath fans over your sensitive and wet nipples. Perching like a pretty princess on his lap, holding onto daddy to seek comfort. To retain all of his love, care, and attention.Â
 Swiveling your hips down, wanting so badly to reach in-between the space of your bodies, and lay his cock down. âDad,â you gulped, âtouch me please. Please, please, pleaseââ Trailing off into a mewl. Eyes fluttering into his tired green eyes.Â
 Your dad's thumb presses against your mound, before cupping it. Letting out a low moan at how wet you are. Just for him. Because of him. And that inflates his ego and makes his heart swell up with pride. Mary never let him do anything like this to her. Only wanting to make love, slow and soft.Â
 His middle finger presses against your slit, spreading your lips with the fabric. Taking in how chubby your pussy is. Pulling the waistband up, forming an exaggerated camel toe. âYou like how I'm touching you, hm?âÂ
 Whining, you rock your hips down once his hand returns to it's spot. Looking down at what he's doing to your cunt, makes you clench down on nothing. James's tired, glossed over eyes flicker back and forth from your face and to his hand. His other one is holding you up, splayed across your lower back.Â
 âSo pretty,â he mumbles against your skin, leaving kisses where your ribcage is splitting into two. Sighing, he slips the damp fabric to the side and leans back. Biting his lip once he sees the clear strings of slick connecting you to the garment. The sight of your naked body over his lap, wet for him, is what really snaps this into reality for him.Â
 Bashfulness is painted all over you as your thighs quiver against your dad's. Making yourself smaller and begin to cover up from instinct. James doesn't stop you as he presses his thumb to your wet folds, groaning and bucking up, drawing a gasp from you. Rubbing circles into your clit with ease, adding pressure with each swipe.Â
 âMmph, dad, daddy, daddy, dad! Oh pleaseâŚâÂ
 Hearing your whines and moans bouncing off the walls and into his ears, makes it feel like it's a song. A song only he can hear and play. With the instrument being your body.Â
 âYou ready?â James pats your glistening lips softly. The squelching fills the silence as you reel your mind back into place.Â
 âYes, yes, yes, âm ready,â you dip down and press your lips frantically upon his own. Slipping your tongue in and basking in the fuzzy, warm feeling. Letting go of your embarrassment, you tangle your fingers into his hair. Hips twitching forward as he notches the blushing head against your opening. Easing you into the feeling of something bigger than your fingers entering you.Â
 Suckling on your tongue, he gently pushes you down on him. Not wanting to hurt you and make you cry out like that. If you're going to be crying, it better be because daddy's making you feel real good. âYou okay? Does it hurt, baby?â He's massaging your hips, trembling with desperation. Absolutely needing to pound that tight hole into the ground.Â
 Your mouth is open in a silent moan, tugging on the strands that are in his scalp. âMhm.. hurts a little bit,â grinding down, taking more in at your pace. Until he's nestled deep into your wet pussy, grazing the womb. Jumping at the sensitivity.Â
 Shallowly, James thrusts up into you. Placing his forehead on your collarbones. Groaning out sweet little praises, telling you how brave you are for taking his dick. Anything and everything coming out of his mouth, with the thought of what sounds the dirtiest and loving things to say. The need of fulfilling your expectations of how good and how sexy it all is.Â
 He hasn't had sex in awhile, the only thing he remembers is his fist. But that doesn't even compare to you, at all. And you begin to chase the fullness he provides you. Humping down into his thighs, pussy so wet it's running down to his balls.Â
 âSuch a good girl,â he moans, all breathy. Leaving your hips to play with your chest. Tweaking your puffy nipples and squeezing the fat of them, before he puts his mouth into play. âTaking daddy so deep, making a whole mess out of yourself. Right?â
 Keening, you push your chest further into his face. His other hand that isn't preoccupied goes down to the swell of your ass and slaps it. Pulling away and pressing his thumb down on your clit. Feeling you flutter around his girth and watching your eyes roll into the back of your head.Â
 âDad, pleaseâmore!â Bumping your nose into his forehead, breath all hot and fanning across his skin. Adding more sweat and tension to the palpitating air. Your panties sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Creating an absolute puddle on his lap. Drenching his pajama pants with your arousal.Â
 Being greedy in the way he is treating you with such care and love, digging your nails deep into his shirt. Bouncing up and down like you own his cock. Like a slutty little porn star making incest videos. If you were to post it on there, nobody would bat an eye, thinking you are lovers or co-stars.Â
 âShit, baby,â he grunts, pulling you down and making you take it. Keeping the pace he wants to go at. Sloppy and irregular, threatening to spill deep inside of you. âCan I cum inside of you please? Let daddy fill you up, please honey.â Whining at how sensitive he is becoming. He isnât as energetic as he used to be. Canât last too long.
 âYes, yes, yes!â Opening your eyes straight away, you gape into his eyes. Moaning into his mouth, squeezing him tighter than ever before. The stuttering of his thrusts and his thumb rubbing your clit so diligently, pulls you over the edge. Soon after, James follows suit, pumping you to the brim as you ride out your orgasm.Â
 âDaddy!â You scream out, holding onto him for dear life. Creaming all around him, squeezing his fat dick for all he's worth.
 âSo beautiful,â groping your thighs as you tremble atop. Clinging to daddy as always. âSweetheart, hold on. If you give me a few minutes, we⌠we can keep going.â Pressing soft kisses on your cheekbones, dragging his tongue down to that soft spot. The one where you squeal and get extremely ticklish. Adoring how your heartbeat rises up dramatically when he sucks on it like a Wertherâs Original.
 And you stay nestled on his softening cock, rope after rope of his spend shooting up into your womb. Feeling so stuffed, you're sure your belly is protruding just a bit. The milky liquid bubbling out of you and pooling on his pelvis.
 âDad,â you whimper, rolling your hips down. âAre you going to marry me when I get pregnant?â Tucking your face underneath his jaw. The jumps of his manhood and his hips as you ask that question, forces soft noises to exhale from your throat.Â
 Petting your hips, he groans lowly into your ear. âI- I donât know, hun.â Digging his nails harder into your skin, too pussy whipped to even be in the correct state of mind. âWould you want me to?â Whispering against your neck, sucking small hickeys to ease the sensitivity of you wiggling around on his length.Â
 âUhuh, want to stay with daddy forever,â mindlessly bouncing, ignoring the whimpers coming out of his puffy kissed bruised lips. âPlease? Want you sâbad dad, pump me so full that I canât walk.â And itâs flooding his mind of you swollen with his babies, being the perfect mommy as he spoils you with love and attention. Taking care of your every need, carrying you around because his baby girl deserves it. He deserves to have a proper wife, proper family. A wife who wonât catch a damn disease.Â
 The squeezing of your gummy walls, is wringing another orgasm out of him. In a flash, he pounces on you, pushing you flat on the cushions. Folding you in half as he begins to fuck you harder and faster than before. Plap, plap, plap, his balls hitting your ass as you begin to claw at him.Â
 Ignoring your cries, he humps you with the intention of fulfilling his fantasy. One that Mary could never begin to achieve. Breath coming out fast, gusting across you. Keeping his hands underneath your knees, pinning you down with his weight. Eyes trained on the faces youâre making, his pelvis making contact with your clit, so perfectly. âYâgonna take all of dadâs cum? Yeah?â Edging you on, moaning into the kiss he drives. All teeth and spit.Â
 Messy enough to coerce another toe curling orgasm, but this time itâs slow and syrupy. Leaving you cockdrunk and pliable to his every need and want. Your thighs squish against his neck, creaming so much itâs forming a ring at the base of his cock. Cunt too tight, about to cut the blood flow, causing him to feel lightheaded.Â
 Being a babbly cutie beneath him, he whispers out some âYeah?â, âYou like that?â, âThat right, baby?â. Watching you come to tears, sobbing for daddy. Head dangling around identical to the way a lasso whips around, no thought behind those eyes. Closing his eyes tightly to hold onto the pleasure he is receiving from your wet pussy. Already addicted to it, deciding heâs going to make some father-daughter time happen every single day. Take you out shopping, just to pound you in the dressing room. Buying all the clothes that he humped you in.Â
 âOhh⌠Iâm going to cum,â he growls, his hips faltering. âMhmm⌠god, Iâm cumming in my daughterâs wet hole. Fuck, Mary forgive me, please.â Trailing off into a high pitched mewl, dropping down on you. Gently fucking his cum deeper into that womb, painting your insides white.Â
 As it starts drooling out, he stays put. All that exercise really winded him out. âHoney, dad really loves you.â Planting sweaty kisses across your cheeks. Faintly hearing a response back. âLetâs go to sleep. Canât have you sleeping out here, daddy will keep you warm all night long in his bed.âÂ
 Leaning back on his haunches, he pulls out. Fluttering cunt oozing out his spend, sheer white plastered everywhere in your nether region. His chest swells up with satisfaction, knowing that he was the first and last one to dump his load into that needy cunt. Picking you up and making his way to the master bedroom.Â
#james sunderland#sh2 remake#sh2 james#james sunderland x reader#james sunderland x you#james sunderland smut#silent hill x you#silent hill x reader#james x reader#localkiss
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Half of Forever [Three]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k [Series Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: break up, pining, idiots in love, angst with a happy ending
a/n: This is the final part of this little mini series. Enjoy the angst and the happy ending you've all been waiting for! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Stepping off the bus, you were immediately hit with the onslaught of rain heavily beating down on you from above. Ducking your head, you dashed across the sidewalk towards the nearest overhang for temporary shelter. As you darted towards the bodega, your dress shoes splashed water up onto your slacks as you ran through puddle after puddle.Â
Breath coming in hard once you'd reached the brief refuge, you took a moment to collect yourself. The rain continued to fall past the overhang, loudly pelting the sidewalk all around you. The handful of passersby toting umbrellas had you instantly wishing you'd grabbed yours before leaving your apartment for work today. But youâd foolishly forgotten to check the weather this morning.
Leaning up against one of the shopâs windows behind you, you heard the crack of thunder far off in the distance. A shiver ran through you, the chilled fabric of your drenched clothing clinging to your skin. Wiping a hand across your wet forehead, you let out a quiet groan as the weight of your predicament hit you.
What a horrible day this had turned out to be.
While youâd been on the city bus making your way home from the office, a storm had rolled in and a downpour had begun. Now standing here and looking out at the large puddles forming along the sidewalks and in the streets, you realized you had a long walk just past the outskirts of Hell's Kitchen and back to your apartment in this mess. All because you'd accidentally missed your actual bus stop, having been too distracted thinking about the reprimand you'd gotten from your boss just before you'd left work today.Â
Glancing down at your purse, you began to unzip the main compartment before reaching a hand inside. You pulled out your cell phone, your finger desperately holding down the power button as your eyes stared at the black screen and willed it to turn on. Except you knew it wouldn't because the battery had long since died. You hadn't properly plugged it into the charger when you'd gone to sleep last night, so by the time you'd gotten to work this morning and realized the battery was quite low, it had been too late to do anything about it. Your phone had tragically died in your purse some time before lunch.Â
Though realistically it didnât matter that your phone was dead. It wasnât like you could have afforded using one of your apps to set up a ride home even if your phone was working. Because unfortunately for you, you'd had the misfortune of falling ill two weeks ago and the unexpected doctor's bill along with the medication youâd needed had wiped out your measly extra bit of emergency cash.
âGoddammit,â you whispered.
Tears building in your eyes, you watched the rain continue to pour down around you as your chest steadily grew tighter and tighter from the stress of the day. The last thing you felt like doing this evening was spending a half an hour walking home in a storm, but you couldn't just stand here waiting beneath the shopâs overhang for it to end, either. You didn't exactly have a choice.
With a sharp exhale, you reluctantly accepted your fate. Pushing away from the window, you grudgingly stepped out from beneath the safety of your covering and straight into the downpour. You willed your legs to move at a speed faster than your usual pace as the rain once more drenched you. Though despite your increased pace, you certainly weren't tempted to run home because you knew it wouldnât have mattered anywayâyou were already soaked to the bone in a matter of seconds.
Ducking your head to avoid the rain drops from further attempting to blind you, you made your way down the sidewalk. Jaw set firmly, you couldnât help but internally chastise yourself for having missed your stop before internally berating yourself for forgetting to at least grab the small umbrella you usually kept in your purse. You hadn't put it back after the last rainy day when youâd left it out to dry by your front door.Â
Youâd only managed to make it two blocks while silently fuming to yourself and steadily growing colder in your drenched work clothes before youâd finally become completely overwhelmed. Once more you felt the tears threatening to fall as they welled in your eyes, steadily blurring your vision. This time you didn't think you could hold them back. Gritting your teeth, you rushed towards the nearest overhang on a building up ahead before turning your back to the sidewalk, not wanting the rest of the city to see you publicly breakdown. Burying your face in your hands, you let yourself finally cry.
It felt like things had not been going well for you for a while nowâfor years if you were being honestâand it felt like today had been the culmination of it all. Your job was awful and barely paid your bills. You hardly had any free time to spend with your friends anymore, and your dating life had only increasingly grown more depressing and lackluster. The apartment you'd once loved you had eventually grown to hate because it held the ghost of Matt everywhere you lookedâat your kitchen table, on your couch, in your bed, beneath the spray of your shower.
You should have never come to the city. You should have gone anywhere else instead of giving into your dreams of some brilliant, happy life out here. Some fantastic life full of excitement and love. Because that wasn't the reality of your life in Hellâs Kitchen. Not anymore.
The tears continued to stream down your cheeks, your face still buried against your palms. Biting your bottom lip, you at least attempted to keep your sobs to a volume softer than the rain heavily falling around you and the distant rumbling of thunder. You felt pathetic standing here on the sidewalk crying in a storm in the middle of Hellâs Kitchen.
The sound of your name being called suddenly registered in your ears between your quiet sobs. Your body tensed instantly; you hadn't anticipated anyone approaching you out here let alone someone who apparently knew your name. But when they said your name again, the voice coming from just behind you this time, you knew exactly who had spoken.
Hunching further in on yourself, you felt your heart drop to the ground by your soaked feet. As if your bad day needed to get any worse, now it had. He was the absolute last person you wanted to see right now, the one who haunted your dreams most nights. Roughly wiping the heels of your hands over your eyes, you tried to dry your tears. Because of course if you were going to run into your ex, it had to be when you were embarrassingly at your lowest. Trying to brace yourself for whatever this encounter would do to your already battered heart, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat before cautiously turning around.Â
If you thought you'd been prepared to see Matt standing there soaked from the storm, you were certainly wrong. The sight of him in his fitted suit with his hair a damp, dark mess clinging to his forehead hit you like a tidal wave. Beads of rain were sliding down his cheeks, just past his red glasses. The corners of his lips were downturned among a darker scruff of beard than you ever recalled him having back when youâd both been together. Both of his hands were squeezing his cane tight between his fists, his dark dress pants wet and clinging to his thighs that had grown far thicker over the years.Â
With trembling lips, your eyes slowly traveled back up to his face, once more meeting the harsh crimson of his lenses. Teeth clamping down harder on your bottom lip, you fought back the sob threatening to spill forth as more hot tears slid down your cheeks. A sharp pain twisted in your chest, right where your heart resided. Heâd grown more handsome with age, though that shouldnât have remotely come as a surprise to you. He'd always been beautiful.
âWhatâwhat are you doing here?â he whispered, his dark brows sinking beneath his glasses. âIs something wrong?â
Your own brows dipped together in confusion before you finally looked around you, taking in your surroundings. It didnât take long for you to realize where youâd accidentally ended up. Turning your head over your shoulder, you spotted the address on the familiar-looking building. It was Mattâs apartment building. Eyelids slowly lowering, you exhaled a sharp, frustrated breath.
âAre you in trouble?â he asked again, concerned. âDidâŚyou need help?â
How utterly embarrassing this whole situation had become. He thought youâd come here on purpose . For his help as Daredevil most likely. Wincing, you slowly returned your attention to his beautiful, worried face. That sharp pain seared straight through you at the sight of him.
âNo,â you whispered, an embarrassed heat burning up your neck. âI didnât realize exactly where I was.â
Mattâs head tilted curiously to the side, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. âWhat do you mean?â he asked. âYou didnât come here intentionally? You werenât looking for me?â
Wincing once more, your eyes dropped down to your wet dress flats as you shook your head. Why couldnât you have paid more attention to where you were going? Hellâs Kitchen was such a small area and it wasnât like Matt would have ever left it. You should have been navigating your way home better in the rain so that you wouldnât end up crying in front of his apartment building.
âNo,â you awkwardly admitted. âI was distracted on the bus. Got off on the wrong stop. I wasnât exactly paying attention to where I was in the storm, I was just trying to get back home.â
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mattâs shoulders visibly drop at the information. Not entirely sure what to make of that, you kept your gaze averted as a chill ran up your spine. Your wet clothes certainly were not helping this situation.
âOh,â he breathed out. âIâm sorry. I thought I recognized it was you standing here and I thought that youâŚnevermind.â
âNo, itâs my fault,â you muttered, shaking your head. âSorry. IâI didnât mean to bother you by showing up like this. It was entirely an accident.â
An uncomfortable silence fell between the pair of you, that nauseating feeling you remembered from the night when heâd ended things with you years ago rising to the surface and uncoiling in your stomach. After this unexpected encounter, you knew youâd be trying and failing to move on from him all over again.Â
âIâm justâjust going to go,â you stammered. âI should get back home anyway.â
Gripping your purse straps like a lifeline, you turned in the direction back towards your apartment. Though youâd taken two more steps before Matt called your name over the roar of thunder. You paused, eyes falling shut at the sound of his cane tapping along the sidewalk as you kept your back to him.
âYou canât possibly walk home in this,â he stated. âItâs not safe.â
âI donât exactly have a choice. My phoneâs dead and I donât have money for a cab anyway,â you confessed awkwardly. âFaster to walk home than anything else at this point.â
You could feel his presence just behind you before you even heard his voice, the hair on the back of your neck prickling at his proximity. Your heart was beating in an agonizing rhythm in your chest with him so near after years of you both being apart. It had been so long since youâd last seen him, since youâd last heard his voice. Every second of this was sheer torture.
âIâll call you a car,â he offered. âI can pay for it. I canât have you walk home in this. How much do you need?â
âNo, Matt,â you declined, sharply shaking your head.Â
Turning back towards him, you were surprised to see heâd already pulled his wallet out of his dress pants, his fingers running over the differently folded bills. A surge of emotion welled up within you at the sight, the feeling becoming almost too much to bear as the tears pricked at your eyes again. He never had much but he was always eager and willing to try and help everyone he could. One of the many things you'd always loved about him.Â
âIâm not taking your money,â you told him, fighting the tremor in your voice. âItâs fine. Iâll be fine.â
��Well I canât let you walk home in this,â he stated again. âI wonât let you.â
A small, sad smile tugged at your lips as you watched a frown form along his own. As a few tears once more snuck their way from the corners of your eyes and burned warm trails down your cheeks, you saw Mattâs hand grip his wallet tighter in his fist.
âWhatâre you going to do, Matty?â you whispered. âHold me here against my will?â
His lips thinned out along his face, his dark brows once more pulling together. Ever so subtly you saw him shake his head. With the sad smile still on your face, you nodded slowly.
âYeah, exactly,â you murmured. âI need to head back home now before this storm gets worse. Goodbye, Matthew.â
Feeling your heart break for a second time, you turned around and stepped out from beneath the overhang on his building and back into the downpour of rain. Ducking your head, you continued down the sidewalk, not even bothering to wipe the tears from your face as they mingled with the drops of rain racing down your cheeks.Â
What a horrible day this had turned out to be.
Biting down sharply on your lip, you tried hard to muffle a sob now that Matt was here. But as your heart brokenly beat in your chest, you knew you couldn't hide a damn thing from him behind you. You never could.Â
As you took another step forward, something caught your elbow and tugged you backwards. Stumbling in a half turn, your right foot splashed into yet another puddle as you came face to face with Matt. His eyebrows were still tightly knit together, partially lowered beneath his lenses. His mouth was twisted in uncertainty as you stared back at him, your breath catching in your throat.Â
âCome up to my apartment,â he offered quietly, releasing your elbow. âYou can get out of this storm and I can dry your clothes while you warm up in some blankets.â
Shaking your head slightly at his offer, you knew you'd never be able to accept it. This brief encounter was already painful enough, you didn't want to prolong it any further.Â
âNo, Matt, I can't justââ
âPlease,â he pleaded, cutting you off. âPlease just come up.â
You stood there with your lips parted in surprise at the earnestness in his voice. Droplets of rain continued to travel down his cheeks, and you saw one bead of water currently clinging to the tip of his nose, mere moments from falling.
âMatt, I can't,â you repeated.Â
âWhy?â he demanded, taking another step towards you. âTell me. Tell me why you can't come up with me.â
You grimaced, your heart clenching tight in your chest as he continued to drag out this encounter. Tears continued to spill forth from your eyes as you stared back at the desperate expression now spread across his handsome face.
âWhy are you doing this, Matt?â you whispered. âCan't you tell how much this is killing me right now? Just standing here talking to you? Now you need me to explain why I canât just go up to your apartment, too? You really need me toââ
âBecause it's killing me, too,â he confessed in a rush before you could finish.Â
For a second you swore your heart stopped beating at what he'd just admitted. Blinking the rain from your eyes, your mouth fell open in shock. You werenât entirely sure what to make of that truth, but a part of you began to hope for something right then that you knew you probably shouldnât.Â
âWhâwhat?â you breathed out.
âI've thought about you,â Matt began, emotion thick in his words. âOver the years, I've thought about you. I can'tâcan't stop. I've tried, I really have. But I justâŚI sometimes feel like your presence is still there,â he continued, gesturing his head towards his apartment building behind him. âOn occasion I can try to trick myself into thinking that you areâby ordering your favorite takeout or using that soap you always loved. The one with sage and citrus.â
A hesitant smile spread on Mattâs mouth, something melancholic in the way his lips had only marginally curved upwards. Swallowing the lump that had started to form in the back of your throat, another chill raced up your spine as you stood there in your soaked clothes. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you fought down the shiver that was beginning to lightly run through you.
Youâd quite literally often dreamt of this moment with Matt. You'd often hoped that one day youâd run into him again somewhere and he would apologize, tell you that he still thought about you. That he still wanted you. But now that he was saying things youâd always wanted to hear, you didnât quite know how to react. This moment still felt like one of your many dreams.
âIt never works for long, though,â he continued softly, voice just louder than the rain. âBecause the scent always fades too fast. And I canât fake the sound of your heartbeat. I canâtâcanât recreate your scent on my bed sheets or the warmth of your body next to me when Iâm trying to fall asleep at night.â
You closed your eyes, pressing your trembling lips together as you tried to staunch the flow of tears. You couldnât believe what he was telling you. A few years ago he ended the relationshipâa relationship that had been going so wonderfully well. Sure, there had been issues, but overall you two had fit so perfectly together and everything had just felt right. Youâd talked about a future togetherâmoving in, getting married, and whatever might come next. Until one day, seemingly out of nowhere, heâd just walked away from it all.Â
âThen why, Matt?â you whispered, opening your eyes and focusing back on him. With the tears filling your eyes, heâd grown a bit blurry standing there before you. âAll those years ago, why did you end things? If youâve been here all this time feeling exactly like Iâve been feeling for years thenâŚwhat was the point?â
Matt ducked his head almost shamefully, one hand releasing his cane before rubbing it across his mouth. Nerves swirled in your stomach as another crack of thunder tore through the distance, the rumbling sound accentuating the pause that felt agonizingly long.
âBecause I was scared,â he finally confessed, his attention seemingly fixed on the sidewalkâthough you knew his senses were fixed on you. âIâd never quite felt how I did for you for anyone else before. One time I thought I did and sheâŚleft me. But it wasnât just a fear of you leavingâŚâÂ
Matt trailed off for a moment, growing silent as the rain continued to pour down. Your heart was in your throat as you waited for him to finish his thought.
âIt was a fear of who I felt I was becoming when I was with you,â he finished softly. âOf what I thought I was losing.â
Eyes narrowing in confusion at Matt, you squeezed your arms tighter around your shivering body. âWhat do you mean?â
He raised his head, his rain speckled lenses focusing back on you. âWe spent a lot of time together, remember? Specifically in the evenings? Before things ended?â
Gaze averting to the ground, you tried to recall the end of the relationship. He had in fact stayed in more frequently. You remembered sharing meals together after work and taking walks at the park. Scheduling date nights on the weekend and staying up late beneath the sheets. It hadnât been every night, but he had significantly begun to spend more time with you just before heâd ended the whole thingâwhich had only added to your confusion at the time.
âYeah,â you answered, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes. âI remember. But what does that have to do with anything?â
âI feared I was changing into someone else,â Matt answered slowly, taking a hesitant step towards you. âI thought I was losing the other half of myself in our relationship because I had begun to spend less time as Daredevil. So IâI pushed you away to try to prevent myself from fully losing myself. And I used that as an excuse to run from my fear of you leaving me.â
"T hat's what you meant by not being able to be yourself with me?â you asked, everything finally beginning to make sense. âOh Matthew,â you breathed out, shaking your head. âYou were never losing Daredevil. Not at all. You never once stopped helping the people who needed it. The nights someone was in danger or something was happening, you still put on the mask.âÂ
Licking your lips as you paused, you could taste the salt of your tears among the droplets of rain. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky behind Matt, just above the tops of the buildings. Seconds later, another roar of thunder punctuated the silence.
âWhat I think you were doing was learning balance in your life,â you told him. âLearning to be both Matthew Murdock and the Devil.â
âI know,â Matt agreed gently, nodding his head. âBut I realized that three years too late. And I'mâI'm so sorry for that.â
Swallowing hard, you felt your heart hammering beneath your arms still wrapped around your chest. âAnd I never wanted to leave you,â you added, voice cracking as you spoke. âYou were my forever, Matty. I told you that.â
A muscle visibly jumped in his cheek, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he couldn't decide on a smile or a frown. Taking another hesitant step, Matt closed the gap between you both. Gazing back at his red lenses, you felt your breath begin to come in sharper now that he was right there .Â
Without warning his hand reached up, timidly coming to cup your cheek in his palm. As if on instinct, you leant back into his warm touch, the feel of it sending a shudder through you for a reason other than the contrast from the cold. His thumb softly swept outwards, gently brushing away a few teardrops from your cheek. You felt like you couldn't breathe as the pad of his thumb afterwards began to affectionately stroke a line along your cheekbone.Â
âPlease come up,â he begged. âLet me help you.â
Eyes closing, you tried to focus on formulating a thought. But it was hard to think with him touching you, with him pleading for you to let him help you. Inhaling a breath, you'd been about to respond, but then you felt him lightly press his damp forehead to yours and your eyes flew open.
He was so close. His hot breath was falling against your lips as it left his own parted ones. The sensation was dizzying, making it hard to focus on almost anything else. Beneath the arms still tightly wrapped around your chest, you could feel your heart accelerating to a worrying speed.
âWe can talk,â he told you. âAbout everything. I have more to apologize for, I know. I justâjust want to fix the mess I made. If it's not too late.â
Exhaling a slow breath, you let his words wash over you like the rain itself, cleansing the years worth of pain that lingered in your heart. Gradually you nodded against his forehead, catching the way he sucked in a sharp breath at the little movement.Â
âOkay,â you whispered. âI'll come up.â
With the way your eyes had been fixed on his lips, you caught the faint smile that slipped onto his mouth the second it did. Something shot through you like a bolt of electricity at the sight of it. Matt's nose affectionately and timidly bumped yours, a small gesture that brought a rush of feelings straight to the surface along with a confession that bubbled right out of your mouth.
âI missed you,â you whispered. âSo much.â
âI missed you, too, angel,â he murmured, thumb brushing away another tear along your cheek. âI've never stopped missing you.â
Matt shifted his head, his lips accidentally grazing yours as he did. A soft whine you had no control over snuck out of you, the sound drawing another sharp inhale from Matt as his nostrils flared. Your hands curled into fists against your body as he leaned in, just barely touching his lips to yours. Eyelids slowly falling shut once more at the feel of his breath washing over you, you sighed in frustration when his mouth still remained at a distance.
â Matt .âÂ
You breathed out his name like a plea, your fingernails digging into the palms of your hand. It was quickly becoming far too difficult not to touch him.
âTell me you haven't thought about this, too,â Matt nearly demanded. âTell me you don't want me. Just one ânoâ and I won'tââ
Losing control, your hands flew away from your sides and landed on Matt's soaked suit coat, balling the wet material in your fists. âYes,â you answered him. âI'm telling you yes , Matthew.â
There was a moment, a brief one, where Mattâs face hovered in the space just before yours. Your breath was coming in sharp and hard as you watched him, aware he was probably reading your body for whatever he needed to hear. You knew the exact moment he'd found what he was looking for because his expression shifted just before he launched himself forward at you.Â
Stumbling backwards into the wall of the building behind you at the force of Matt's enthusiasm, your eyes snapped shut the second his mouth was on yours. Hands snaking their way up his chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in the damp strands of his hair. You pulled him flush to the front of yourself with a faint gasp, his soaked body deliciously heating the front of your freezing and drenched one.
Matt's hand on your cheek held you in place against the brick wall behind you, tilting your mouth to the exact angle for him to easily connect his lips to yours over and over in a heated passion. The pair of you struggled to catch your breath each time he pulled away, your gasping breaths loud in your own ears despite the storm still raging. His other hand landed on your hip, roughly grabbing it as he kissed you. You could feel the way it shook against you, as if he was struggling not to do more than just hold you there.Â
âIâm so sorry, angel,â he whispered against your lips.
His mouth was immediately back on yours, relentless in his determination to make you feel just how apologetic he was. Your own mouth was hungrily matching his pace, the rain forgotten as you tried to express the longing you'd been tormented by every single day since he'd left you.Â
Fingers gripping his hair, you took advantage of the seconds in between kisses. âDonât you dareââ you broke off as his mouth slammed back onto yours again, ââbreak my heart again, Matthew,â you finished when he pulled back.
Matt paused at your words, breathing hard as he gazed back at you, the rain continuing to wash over the both of you. Nearly out of breath yourself, you couldn't help but admire how perfect he looked standing there completely soaked with his flushed cheeks and the small smile gracing his swollen lips.
âNever,â he promised. âI hate myself for ever hurting you like that. And itâll never happen again, I promise you that. The pain of those last three years was torture. Punishment. And I promise we'll talk, angel, we will, butâŚâ
His voice trailed off and your eyes darted back to his lips. The lips you missed, the lips that brought you comfort in a way nothing else ever had. In that moment you understood him completely.
âBut not right now,â you agreed.
Yanking him back towards you with the hand still tangled in his hair, you swallowed the resulting soft growl of his down, kissing him with all the longing that you'd bottled inside for the past three years. Matt didn't hesitate to match your passion and enthusiasm as he pressed you further into the brick behind you, your back arching into him just as another rumble of thunder tore through the night.Â
What an unexpected day this had turned out to be.
Matt Murdock One Shot/Shorts Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @ardent-crow @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler  @islayhawkin @slyregg
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