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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

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Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)

ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!

College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI

a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!

edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.

wc: 6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice.

Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window.

So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman.

When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.

Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment.

You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.

You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara?

Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning.

On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach.

"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was…

You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying .

The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist.

"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!"

~~~

He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring.

The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.

As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask.

It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him.

The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep.

Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him.

This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class. She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.

"Where's he gone?" She asks politely.

You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."

"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day.

You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.

"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."

Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it.

"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo.

"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.

You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."

A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

~~~

You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it.

After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course.

Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself.

You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall.

It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure.

It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself.

Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here.

On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video.

" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen.

What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all.

Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners.

He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you.

All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs.

" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-"

He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

" H-Harder, Miguel, please."

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers.

" Fuck, Miguel…"

He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall.

~~~

He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.

A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home.

And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.

Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions.

You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night.

He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy??

You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.

After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water.

With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there.

"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway.

You wince."...F-Fine?"

You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?"

You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."

Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice.

"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further.

Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together.

You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand.

" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee.

"You look… wet."

"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze.

"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed.

There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression. His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds.

Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?"

He's got a hand on your arm now, The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details.

" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy.

It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside.

"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."

"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word.

"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?"

"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."

"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"

"...I'd like that, to be honest."

"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."

"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too."

~~~

You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same.

You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way.

There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost.

It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.

Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand.

What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza?

Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal.

So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy.

“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"

You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats.

All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought.

"Yeah?"

"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-"

"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"

There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…

"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!"

With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway.

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "

"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"

"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-"

"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips.

You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.

"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you.

His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand.

"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close.

You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.

"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile.

"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side.

"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."

His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.

"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular.

He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?"

"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it.

He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty.

"Huh. I guess they do."

"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"

"Katie." He hums.

"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name.

You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch.

"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ."

Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest.

"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-"

"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."

Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own.

"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.

Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?

"...and I heard you say my name."

"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing.

"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-"

He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"

A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."

He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together.

He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest.

It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts.

"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."

You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck.

He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum.

Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth.

Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin.

"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt..

"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara.

"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.

He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"

Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"

He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?"

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."

"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?"

It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction.

"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach.

You mumble something begrudgingly.

"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."

Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel."

Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."

Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth.

He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.

And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue.

And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole.

"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue.

You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off.

"Right there, fuck… "

Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily.

You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him.

"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him.

"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs.

Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck.

"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."

His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."

You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should.

"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head.

"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."

He turns to you, lazily.

"I could tutor you, if you'd like."

…

"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

edit: the full fic xx

#i am very very close to making this a full fic #(implying that this isn't alr basically a full fic lmfao)#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #kat_writes😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara headcanons #spiderman 2099 masterlist #spiderman 2099 x reader

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chuluoyi · 4 months

Text

HAPPY MARRIAGE

- nanami kento x reader

“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love

genre: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!

note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3

listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

No divorce ever comes easy.

When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.

When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.

Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.

“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”

Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—

“Gojo, you prick!”

Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"

Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”

"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"

"Wha—"

"Because of you!"

"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"

You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"

Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.

"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."

Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.

He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"

You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"

"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"

"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"

You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.

And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.

. . .

He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.

More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.

Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.

Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.

Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.

“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”

Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...

“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”

“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”

He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.

“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”

"Nanami-san, you okay?"

He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."

"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.

Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."

Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.

Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."

Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.

It might verge on invading his privacy, but—

"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."

To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."

"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."

"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."

"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"

Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.

"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."

"But still... now—"

To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:

"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."

Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."

Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”

In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.

It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.

“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”

Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.

It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.

"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"

You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...

And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."

That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.

"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"

You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.

"I'm fine."

"Oh, that's good then."

Silence. This was the absolute worst.

Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.

He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"

You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."

Darn it. Another dry reply.

"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."

"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."

"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."

"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."

Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.

"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.

It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.

"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.

Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?

"I can take care of myse—"

"That's a whole load of bullshit!"

Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?

The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.

“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”

"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"

Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.

Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—

Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.

Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.

"Oiii, Nanami!"

He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.

"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"

"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."

“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”

“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”

What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”

But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"

"What exactly is she not good with?"

"Everything? You never ask her."

This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.

"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."

With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—

He knew you were there, hearing all of this.

Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."

. . .

There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.

But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.

But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.

By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.

Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.

You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.

At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.

Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.

This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.

If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.

Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.

"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"

And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.

Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."

"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"

For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.

"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"

Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"

Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.

Until—

"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"

...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

You're hurt?

"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"

Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.

"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.

"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"

"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.

At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.

Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?

This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—

To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.

Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—

Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?

Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.

Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.

And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—

Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—

Huh, what?

The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.

"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.

His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.

“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”

“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”

“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”

“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”

“Gojo did—”

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”

You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”

“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”

If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”

He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.

Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?

Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”

"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."

"Y/N, you're missing the—"

"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"

Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.

"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"

"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"

"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"

"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"

You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.

But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.

Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.

"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"

"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.

It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.

Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?

. . .

And that was when he decided it.

He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.

Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.

You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.

After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."

But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."

You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.

At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—

"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.

Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.

"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.

"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."

Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.

"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."

Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?

"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."

Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.

"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.

"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"

"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."

And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—

"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."

The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.

There was only one answer you had in mind.

Five years later

"Yes! Yes! Yay!"

Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.

The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.

The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.

As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.

"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.

"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"

"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.

Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"

"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."

"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."

"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."

Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.

Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...

And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.

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mysicklove · 7 months

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𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘

DAY 31: MASTURBATION

With: Izuku Midoriya

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: subish! Izuku, fem/afab reader, izuku masturbates to your voicemail and pretends to fuck you, reader calls him baby, and he calls u hun, needy izuku

A/N: masturbation fics are so fun to write for no reason. anyways, my last kinktober fic. crazy. it doesnt feel this way cause i wrote it halfway through lol.

Izuku was left alone for too long. On the verge of three weeks to be exact.

He wasn't left completely alone, of course. He was just overseas, on an important mission. He was separated from you, but that to his love-sick brain, meant he was left alone. His sleep schedule is all messed up from the times he stayed up late at night to wish you goodmorning, or the times where he woke up super early to catch you before you ate dinner.

He missed you, an ungodly amount. When he comes home to his luxury hotel, and flops onto the bed, the only thing he can think about is you. What it would feel like to wraps his arms around you, and melt in your warmth. The way your fingers would run through his hair, and comfort him from all he did that day.

Of course he had those innocent, romantic thoughts most of the time, but somehow one way or another those fantasies began to change. The touches reach lower, your words begin to drip with honey, and your lips seem to be more passionate, desperate even. Until five out of the seven days, he daydreams about fucking you.

He lays against the bed frame, shirtless, and dick pulled out of his boxers. The trip back to the hotel was long, and he's been thinking about doing this for the past hour now. He prepared everything ahead of time, because if he was doing something as pathetic as this, at least do it right.

The lights were dimmed, and his eyelids are drooping, exhausted from the day. He slowly reaches toward the nightstand and grabs a couple of tissues, setting them down next to him. Then with a sigh, he puts his phone up to his ear, and brings his hand to his cock.

He gulps when he hears your voice, wishing desperately that you weren't asleep. Its got to be around 5 am by that time, and of course he wished he was patient enough to wait a couple hours for you to talk to him. But, he was desperate, and the voicemail you left him a couple hours earlier did the job.

“Hey baby,” Your voice broadcast, and immediately he seems to melt. His eyes fall shut and his hands begins to move up and down his half hard cock. He hums in reply, not caring if you cant hear him. “I miss you. Saw a kid walk by me with your merch on, made me smile,” You say, your voice slightly muffled from a task you must be doing.

He huffs a laugh, head falling to the side. “Yeah?” He breathes, thumb rubbing at the tip, and then falling back down to his shaft in a repetitive motion. You continue on about your day, mentioning nothing too important, just how you went grocery shopping and a nice walk after work. “You shouldnt be working. Can take care of you,” Izuku mumbles, eyes peering open just slightly to watch his movements.

His cock was on full display now, the tip a pretty shade of pink, and beginning to leak. You always called it pretty. A strange thing to say about a penis, but he soaked up the praise, taking pride in his cock now.

The thought made his mind wander. Would you praise him for what he was doing now? He wasnt supposed to touch himself without you, but its been three weeks, you have got to understand. Were you touching yourself thinking about him? The thought sends a thrilling shiver down his spine.

Your voice was now a background noise, just listening to the tone, the sound of it, but nothing of what you were saying. Maybe you were cooing at him. Telling him how good he is doing. Or maybe you were calling him a pervert for doing something so gross without you knowing. He lets out a shaky moan, mewling out and picking up the pace of his hand.

“I miss you,” He warbles into the phone, on top of your speech. What were you talking about now? A dog you saw? Nothing important. Why weren't you touching yourself to his voice? He would die for an audio of that. Or even an audio of where you give him directions of how to do touch himself correctly.

No Izuku, slow down. Don't hurt yourself, baby. Your voice clouds his mind, and he nods, peering back to his cock and slowing his hand down. Thats it. Tighten your hand, and focus on the tip. He obeys, moving his hand up to the head, and making small pumps there. “S-Sensitive there,” He groans to the empty hotelroom, shaking his head from side to side when his heartbeat begins to pick up.

“Went into Victoria's Secret today,” You hum, and his eyes widen, attention snapping back to your voicemail. He quickly turns up the volume and pressing the phone closer to his ear. “Bought something you’ll love. Red is your favorite, yeah?”

Lewd images flash through his head of dark red lingerie sets and he nods. “Fuck. Please,” He moans, wishing he was there to pick it out with you. His dick twitches, and a glob of precum leaks out. Green eyes flicker to it, and he uses his thumb to swirl it around the head, flinger glazing over the slit. “Wanna see,” Izuku pants, growing hot.

You seem to have heard his reply and it makes him whine. “You don't get to see till you get home. A nice reward for doing so good all this time you are away,” You purr, making a short kissing noise into the mic and laughing.

His eyebrows furrow at the possibilities and his mind drifts off from your voice again. Suddenly he is there with you, his rough hands trailing up and down your body. The dark lingerie looks perfect against your skin tone, and his mouth waters at the sight. Well, look how needy you are Deku. Do you want to fuck me that bad?

He nods his head frantically, hand unconsciously picking up the pace. “Please. Please, beggin’ you,” he chants under his breath, his back slightly arching off the frame. He dully notices that the voicemail has ended, but doesnt pay attention to it, too immersed in the movie playing in his head.

His mind cuts the scene forward, growing too impatient and desperate as his orgasm begins to approach. You are under him, sending scratch marks down his back while moaning out. His thrusts are frantic, and he tries to pretend that his hand is you. Its not the same, but it will do.

“Am I doing good?” He mumbles, dropping his phone onto the bed and resting the other hand on his thigh. You nod at him, kissing his cheek with redden cheeks, and lazy grin. A view he has seen so many times that he has a perfect mental image of it.

So good, Izuku. You wanna cum inside?

He moans, louder than he should, considering the thin walls, but he doesnt care at the moment. He never gets to cum inside – this was something he was waiting to hear. “Fuck. Pleaseeee,” He whimpers, eyebrows furrowing and hand frantically moving up and down. His cock is lubed up with pre, and its easier for his hand to move now.

He climbs closer and closer to his high and now hes hunched slightly over on himself. Suddenly, he hears his phone ringing, cutting him out of his perfect daydream. Just a couple of seconds, he just needs a couple seconds more of fucking you, and then he can take this call. He whines slightly, and peers over at it, not stopping his movements.

When he sees your name his eyes light up, and he grabs the phone and brings it to his ear immediately. His hands makes a lewd squelching noise, but he too fucked out to care if you hear.

A couple of seconds go by, and he breathes into the mic, waiting. And then he hears a groggy, “Hey baby,” and he cums on the spot. Groaning into the phone without a care as cum spills out on his hands and his whole body shakes.

Another second goes by, as you wait silently on your side, confused on what was happening, but too sleepy to put two and two together. Izuku's chest rises and falls with every breath, and he stares at his cum covered hand, trying not to let out a sound of complaint when he realized he forgot to cum into the tissue.

He blinks a couple times, exhausted but glowing. “Hey hun. Was just thinkin’ bout you,” He hums, grinning at his sticky hand and closing his eyes when he hears your girlish giggle.

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sinner-as-saint · 8 months

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I'm insane, but I'm your baby

Dark!Bucky x Reader (age gap au)

Run-through: You broke things off with Bucky shortly after you realised that he was quickly becoming overly emotionally reliant on you. And you were not ready for that kind of commitment. Besides, when you and Bucky first got together, the rule was no emotional bond at all. It was all just transactional, exciting, and fun. But then he changed. And you didn’t realise just how much you meant to him… until he showed you.

Themes: ex-sugarbaby!bucky, dark!bucky, obsessive!bucky, sugarmommy!reader, mild MDLB (nicknames only), possessive!bucky, switch!bucky, smut, brief somno, bondage, praise kink, reader gets referred to as “mommy” a lot, dub con, manipulation, age gap (Bucky is in his twenties, Reader is in her late thirties), gun play, mentions of stalking and violence

a/n: warning – dark fic, pls read the themes carefully and do not consume media that makes you uncomfortable.

You knew he was already in your house the moment you walked in.

Firstly because that was his car outside, parked near the driveway fountain. Secondly, because he’d been doing this for a whole week now. Ever since the two of you broke up, he’d show up at your house whenever he wanted.

He still had copies of the keys you’d given him. And he acted like a brat each time you asked for the keys back. What if I left something and I desperately needed it? He’d argue. You were a busy woman, head of and handling family businesses and some of your new ones as well so you rarely had enough time to argue over keys with a young man who refused to act his age.

Part of his bratty behaviour was your fault, you knew that. He was already spoiled when you met him – typical rich boy who rebelled against his rich parents whenever he wanted. But then when he met you, he became a total brat. You spoiled him even more than his family did – cars, trips, jewellery, a penthouse in whatever city he wanted, everything he’d asked for, you gave it to him.

In return, he was at your beck and call. He often joked about how you trained him like a loyal puppy. You laughed, because it was true. Whenever you called, he came running to you.

Your ‘relationship’ was perfect in the beginning. It was fun, and an amazing way for you to unwind and get away from the hectic work life. But then, Bucky got clingy. Emotionally clingy. And you tried to talk to him about it, but he would just act up and refuse to listen. Or, most of the time he’d just distract you with his amazing body.

So you went with the flow for a couple of more months, before about a week ago you sat him down and broke things off. Of course it wasn’t easy. Bucky was especially bratty about it and was having none of it. But eventually stormed out of your house.

He was back the very next day, begging and pleading for you to take him back. You asked him to leave. Then he was back the following day, same old story. Then the day after that, he’d let himself into your house while you were still at home. You’d asked him to leave.

And he’d been repeating this bullshit for a whole week now. You were tired. Your days at work weren’t particularly easy. You had a huge staff to manage, meetings to attend, everything rested on your shoulders. All you wanted was some quiet time when you got home but no. A certain blue eyed young man, previously your sugarbaby, wouldn’t leave you alone.

You sighed as you walked further into your house. Dropping your keys and shoes in the foyer as you walked towards the kitchen. And there he was.

Wearing nothing but dark grey sweatpants. Smooth, tatted skin exposed. With his bare, muscular back to you, cooking something like he was completely at home in your space. Well, he did live here with you for the last few months.

You watched him for a moment as he moved with ease in your kitchen. Fuck, why did he have to be so irresistible? Especially in this kitchen, where you’d fucked countless of times…

“What are you doing?” You asked, once you were done eye-fucking him.

Bucky turned to look at you with a sly grin on his face. He lowered the flame, wiped his hands on a nearby tea towel and made his way over to you.

You couldn’t even push him away as he held you in his muscular arms. You could feel the dampness on his skin, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. Surely he even used your gym as well.

He nuzzled your cheek, “Hi mommy,” He whispered, “How was your day?” He kissed along your cheek, then down your neck. So slowly you felt yourself slipping under his spell again.

But then you recovered and carefully stepped out of his embrace. Ignoring the hurt on his pretty face at you pulling away, you asked again, “What are you doing, Bucky?”

“Making you dinner.” He answered, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist again, “Your favourite pasta.” He smiled down at you, then leaned in to kiss your nose. “Want some wine while you wait for it to be done?”

You sighed, pulling away again. “Bucky, I don’t like having to kick you out all the time.” You stated, looking him right in those puppy dog, ocean blue eyes. “But enough is enough. Give me my keys and please,” You tried not to sound too harsh, “Please leave. You and I, we’re done. I can’t… I can’t give you what you want, and we agreed on that. So please, leave.”

He was quiet. So were you. It was tense, heavy, emotional silence. You were tired of always breaking his heart like this. Why couldn’t he just understand?

“But I thought…” He crossed his arms, his muscles looking even bigger this way. “Did you never love, or care about me?” His tone suddenly softened.

You sighed for probably the tenth time. “Bucky, this again?”

He gave you the innocent, puppy dog eyes again. “I just… I thought we had something, mommy.” He whispered, sounding like a lost puppy, “Didn’t we?” He inched closer, his body heat wrapping around you. “Didn’t we, mommy?” He whispered into your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t you remember how good we were together?”

You almost gave in again… almost. “Get out.” You said.

He pulled away, surprised and frowning at the coldness in your calm tone. “Wha… what?”

You almost felt bad. “You heard me. Get out.” You repeated. “Don’t make me call security.”

He reluctantly left.

You heard the purring of his car engine gradually fade, and the alarms signalled that the gates were shut again.

You went to the stove and turned it off, the food already ruined. You cursed under your breath because you knew this wasn’t the last time. Bucky could be adamant when he wanted something.

Or someone.

—

Much to your surprise, he didn’t show up the next day. Or the day after that. And just when you thought he was finally out of your life… you dreamt of him one day. Even in your dreams he was not ready to let you be.

You dreamt of him in your room, in your bed. His soft hair brushing against your face as he kissed all over your jaw and neck… nibbling on your skin.

He chuckled when you let out a sigh of pleasure. “I know, mommy.” He kissed along your exposed neck. “I know you didn’t mean it when you said we were done the other day,” He whispered, brushing his lips against yours, “See? Even in your sleep your body still wants me.” He sounded pleased. Mischievous.

“So beautiful… and all mine.” You felt his phantom hands brushing against your thighs… like he always did whenever he woke up in the same bed as you.

He always took full advantage of the fact that you slept in the nude. And you lived for those moments, those slow mornings filled with endless kisses and caresses and cuddles, and him being brat and not wanting you to leave the bed, or him. You dreamt of his lips kissing down your neck, down your chest, down your torso…

He chuckled again, his boyish laughter echoing in your head. “You’re all wet for me, mommy.” He noted. He was right. You could feel it. Dreams always heightened every sense so you were fully aware of the wetness in between your thighs.

He kissed your hips, whispering, “Your baby boy is hungry, mommy…” He kissed right above your clit, warm breath making your body come alive even in dreams. He always had a talent of making your body sing whenever he touched you.

Then his warm tongue licked along your slit, his hands spreading your things apart to give him better access. Your hand moved lazily, fingers ready to slide into his hair… even in your dreamy fantasies you assumed his hair would be silky soft… but you couldn’t quite move your arm.

That was the equivalent of warning bells ringing. You opened your eyes, no longer dreaming, and gasped in surprise as you not only found Bucky in between your legs but your hands were tied to the headboard. With one of his expensive ties.

“Bucky…” His name sounded more like a soft moan as he shamelessly tasted you, eating you out passionately, giving you his all.

At the sound of his name, he looked up. Held your stare as he lazily circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, then said, “Morning, mommy. How did you sleep?”

“What…” You sounded breathless as his finger slowly slid inside you, stroking that spot inside you that he knew all too well. Fuck, this was sweet torture… “What are you doing?”

He chuckled, finger-fucking you lazily. “Waking you up, of course.” He frowned playfully. “What does it look like I’m doing? Hmm?” He pressed another kiss to your throbbing clit before he nuzzled the space between your hips, “How dare you keep this away from me, huh? How dare you keep yourself away from me, mommy?”

You were too overwhelmed to speak. Hands tied above your head, his finger and tongue in between your legs… each time you opened your mouth to speak, only moans escaped. No coherent sentences.

“Bucky!” You cried out when he made you come the first time. He just chuckled and showed no sign of stopping. He added another finger and kept stroking that spot inside you, his tongue kept teasing your clit until you came a second time. “Bucky, please…” You begged.

He looked up this time, smiling like a devilish, blue-eyed, young god. “Yeah, mommy?”

“Please just… untie me.” You whispered, breathlessly.

He chuckled, in that boyish way of his. “No? Cause then you’ll just pull away from me.” He reasoned. “I like you like this, all nice and open for me.” He said, “I really missed this, I didn’t even touch myself because… because that’s your job, isn’t it?” He rambled, fingers still slow fucking you. “You can’t just kick me out and stop caring for me just cause you feel like it, mommy.” He frowned, in a way you’d always found both bratty and adorable. “Don’t you see? Don’t you see I need you?”

You sighed and whined as he made you come once more before removing his fingers from you.

“Did you hear me?” He asked, kissing his way up your body, “Your baby boy needs you, mommy.” He whispered as he nuzzled your neck.

You had no choice but to play along, ignoring the way your body, traitor that it was, craved him still. “Baby,” You whispered, “I need you to untie me, okay?”

“No.” He said in that bratty voice of his.

You groaned internally. This is what you get for fucking around with clingy, younger men. “Baby, please.”

He pulled away to look down at you. His glorious body hovering above yours. Bare chest, only black sweatpants today. “You won’t pull away?”

“No.” You answered, truthfully.

“And you won’t ask me to leave?”

“No, baby.” You were beginning to hear that familiar bratty tone in his voice. He could get whatever he wanted when he got in moods like these.

He smirked, with nothing but a glazed, determined look in his pretty eyes. “Good,” He said, then reached behind him and pulled out his silver handgun. A very familiar handgun. Damn you, another silly purchase. This one even had his initials engraved on it. Bucky chuckled when he saw the look on your face, “Oh I would never hurt you, mommy. This is just… precaution.”

You nodded, holding his stare. You said nothing as he brought the gun closer to your chin. The cold barrel pressed against your skin as he dragged it downwards. Your heart raced faster than it ever had. Bucky’s eyes followed the trail of the gun as yours remained fixed on his face.

Then he said, “Do you remember when you gave this to me?” He stopped the barrel right in between your breasts. “Do you remember how much fun we had that night?” He smirked, dragging the barrel further down your body.

You hissed as the cold barrel pressed against your wet folds. Bucky had a heated look in his lust-drunk, now hooded eyes as he slid the tip of it up and down your folds, coating the barrel with your wetness.

You squirmed under him, instinctively grinding against it. It felt immoral, chasing that feeling. Fuck.

“Look at you, mommy.” He mumbled. “All of this for your baby boy, huh?” He brought the now wet barrel to his mouth, opening his mouth to let his pink tongue out. He held your stare as he licked it clean. That sinful tongue of his tasting you again. “You always taste so fucking good…” He tossed the gun aside once he was done proving his point.

Your mind was a mess. Torn between giving in to desire and lust, or side with rational thinking.

“Open your mouth, mommy.” He whispered, leaning in until his face was just inches above yours.

When you did open your mouth, he spat in it before leaning in to give you an orgasmic kiss. Messy, wet, warm… your body tingled under him. His warm skin pressing against yours. Bucky reached up and untied your wrists.

Instead of trying to put some distance between your bodies, you found your hands reaching for him. Your fingers sliding into his hair as he moaned into your mouth. “Fuck… mommy,” He whimpered, holding you closer and kissing you deeper. “More,” He groaned, “I want more.”

Your bodies moved into position instinctively. Your legs spread just enough for him to settle in between them.

You had forgotten just how sensitive you were from earlier, so you hissed in pleasure and pain as he slid all the way in.

You saw panic in his eyes for a moment as he calmed you down, cradling your head and kissing your face. “Shh, shh, hey,” He whispered softly, “It’s just me,” He said, kissing your lips, “It’s just your baby boy, mommy. Open up for me, that’s it, there you go…” He moaned as he pulled out and pushed back in again.

You swore as Bucky moved his hips expertly, slipping in and out of you with ease. Soon, he was slamming into you, his movement animalistic and unrestrained much like his feelings. He was relentless, taking what he wanted, how he wanted.

“Buck…” You whined, giving up and just letting him pleasure you.

Bucky slammed in and out of you continuously, moaning and grunting in the process. “You feel so good, mommy.” He murmured as he increased his pace, fucking into you mercilessly as your legs locked around him.

Your thoughts were a mess yet again as you felt your vision getting blurry with each passing second. You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pulling you into him, hard, each time he filled you up. “Baby…” You moaned.

“I know, I know,” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “Tell me I feel good inside you,” He whispered, “Tell me I fuck you good, mommy.” Damn him. He knew just what made you lose your mind and he used them all to his advantage, making you fall under his spell just like that.

He sped up, rocking his hips harder against yours when he noted that you weren’t doing as he asked. His hand reached around to grab your throat carefully. He squeezed gently, speeding up into you as he looked straight into your eyes, your soul. “Tell me I fuck you good.” He said, jaws clenching and a vulnerable look in his eyes.

You gripped the bed sheets as he pounded into you. “You… you feel so good, baby.” You mumbled, Bucky leaned down and pressed his soft lips against yours as you whispered, “You fuck me so good.”

He smirked. “I know.” He sounded cocky as he said, “I know only I can make you feel this good, mommy.”

Your walls constricted around him, hard enough to make him go faster. Bucky pounded into you harder than before, the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the room. He took you higher, and higher, and higher until you felt tears escape your eyes.

“Baby…” you were breathless, unable to form coherent words as he fucked you silly.

“Come for me, mommy.” He groaned, giving you a messy kiss as he moaned some more against your mouth, “Come for me…”

You let the pressure build inside you, before letting go, unable to hold back. More hot tears streamed down your face as Bucky kept pounding into you, your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, chasing his own.

“Fuck, mommy,” He came with a loud groan, filling you up with his cum yet again. You caught your breath as he leaned down to kiss you again. Kissing all over your face, down your neck and your shoulder. “That was so good,” he whispered, “See how good we are?” He caressed your face, “Why do you want to throw this away, huh?” He kissed your forehead.

Then he looked over at your bedside table and chuckled.

“Look at the time,” He sounded calm and normal again. “You’re gonna be late for work, mommy.” He giggled, kissing your cheek, “Want me to drive you? We could grab breakfast on our way.”

Your brain was too foggy for you to string together words or sentences so you just nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

—

After that morning, it was back to being as if you’d never broken up in the first place.

Each time you even try to say something regarding your relationship, Bucky would shut you up with a mind melting kiss. His skilled tongue and hands could make anyone forget anything.

You’d wake up each day to find flowers on your bedside. Breakfast was always already made. And Bucky was always ready to drive you to work.

You decided to bring this whole situation up one day while he was driving. “You know we can’t keep doing this, right Bucky? We can’t… you can’t keep acting like this.” You looked at him, sunglasses hiding his pretty eyes, jaws clenched, that tight black t-shirt hugging his muscular body…

Bucky sent a quick glance your way, smirked, placed his hand higher up your thigh and asked, “What are you talking about?” He was so fucking good at acting oblivious.

“This, Bucky!” You gestured to all of him. “All of this. You refusing to leave, you driving me to work.” You listed. “We ended whatever was between us,” You stated. “Why are you being like this?” You lowered your tone, realising that reasoning with him was futile.

He didn’t say a word. He kept driving, kept his warm hand on your thigh. His touch was as electric as always. His calm demeanour was nothing but a façade, and you knew. He was like a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode.

And he did.

When he pulled into the underground parking lot of your office building, he grabbed your wrist before you could get out of the car.

“Let go, Buck. I’m getting late for a meeting.” You told him.

He took his sunglasses off, tossed them aside and said, “You’re the boss. There’s no such thing as the boss being late.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine, what do you want?”

“You.” He answered, leaning closer as he tugged on your arm to bring you closer to him. Fuck he smelt good. “You’re all I want, mommy. No expensive gifts, no trips, no cars, nothing.” He whispered, brushing his lips against your cheek. “Just you. All of you.”

You groaned, pulling away a little. “I can’t give you that.” You explained. “I have a busy life, I can’t commit, I cannot be in a normal relationship, I can–,”

He cut you off, tightening his grip in your wrist. “Is there someone else?” He questioned, again with that glazed look in his eyes. “Hmm? Is there some… Steve?”

You frowned, “How do you know Steve?”

Bucky smirked, “I went through your phone after you fell asleep last night.” He confessed with no shame. “He texts you quite a lot, doesn’t he? He’s a bit too flirty to be just an employee, mommy.” Bucky spoke, low and deep. “Who is he?”

“No one.” You answered truthfully. Sure, Steve could be a little flirty sometimes. But he was amazing at his job and you couldn’t lose him so you ignored his flirty comments and texts as one does. He was indeed no one though. “Just an employee, Buck.” You said, quite annoyed. “Don’t fucking touch my phone again.”

He subtly flinched at the coldness in your tone. “Sorry, mommy.” He murmured. He looked genuinely apologetic for a moment. “I… I saw someone kept texting you late at night and,” He let go of your wrist and slid his hand in between your thighs, “I had to see who it was.”

Yeah. Pencil skirts around him? Bad idea.

But his hand felt so good. His fingers sliding up and down the flimsy material of your thong. You gasped as he slid a finger into you easily. “Oh damn you, Bucky.”

He chuckled darkly into your ear. “Do you like him?” He asked, sliding another finger inside you, making you roll your hips, thrusting into his hand. “Do you let him touch you?”

“No,” You whined. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping his hand in between your legs as you moaned. “He’s… no one.”

“He better be no one,” Bucky whispered, kissing down your neck as he finger-fucked you. “Otherwise…,” He gently nibbled on your skin, “You know I always keep my gun on me, mommy.”

You gasped in shock and pleasure. “Bucky, please.”

“I will never hurt you,” He whispered. Then chuckled almost maniacally. “You know I will never hurt you. But that doesn’t mean I won’t get rid of whoever tries to come between me and my mommy,” He said, thrusting his fingers rapidly in and out of you. “You’re mine.”

The interior of the car was heating up. The air was dense and hot, your heart was racing as he touched you, taking you higher and higher… until he stopped abruptly. Pulled his fingers out of you and popped them in his mouth, shamelessly moaning at your taste.

You almost came at the sight of it.

You didn’t realise your hand had subconsciously started making its way in between your legs, seeking to alleviate the sweet pain there, until Bucky slapped your hand playfully and said, “Stop that. That’s my job.”

That broke you out of whatever spell you were under. “Why’d you… why did you stop?” You questioned, breathing heavily.

Bucky smiled, kissed you on the forehead and said, “I have to keep you wanting more, mommy.” He kissed your mouth, gently. “I’ll pick you up later. Just give me a call, okay?”

And just like that, he avoided confronting the situation at hand. Again.

—

A few days later, by some miracle, you’d managed to talk Bucky out of dropping you and picking you up from work each day.

But of course, he didn’t agree to that out of reason. No, he needed to see something.

You were unaware of it but Bucky had gotten access to most of the security cameras placed in your office building. The underground garage, your personal office, your assistants’ offices, the lobby, everything.

He did it to keep an eye on you at all times. All because he wanted you safe all the time. And anytime you were out of his sight, his heart was restless. This was the only way he could be at peace.

But also, he needed to keep an eye on this Steve.

—

One evening you came home, and the house was eerily quiet.

No dinner cooking. No extravagant flower arrangement waiting for you in the foyer. No cheesy notes. Nothing.

The silence was the opposite of peaceful. You walked cautiously inside your own home, looking for the cause of this tension in the air. The kitchen was empty. So was the sunroom. And that left…

There he was. Sitting in your lavish living room. Manspreading on a sofa with a drink in his hand and… his gun in the other hand.

You stopped and froze immediately. “Bucky?” You called out, given he was staring at the ground rather than at you. He didn’t reply so you tried again, “Baby? What is it?”

He looked up this time. Whatever his moods were, he could never resist those nicknames coming from your mouth. He took one last sip of his drink, whiskey it seemed, placed the glass on the carpet and said, “I thought you said he was just an employee.”

Your heart sank. You knew who he was referring to. “He… he is.”

“Oh?” He tilted his head to the side as he pulled his phone out, tapped a few times before turning the screen towards you and there it played. Footage of you and Steve from earlier, saying goodbye to each other.

In the video, you could clearly see yourself smiling and laughing at whatever Steve was saying. Then out of nowhere, Steve leaned in and kissed your cheek before whispering a goodbye and wishing you a good weekend.

You looked back up into Bucky’s eyes. They were empty. Like there was no soul behind them, nothing just betrayal, anger, and hurt. “It’s not–,”

“You said he was just an employee.” Bucky repeated, leaning back against the sofa. “Then why the fuck was he touching you? Hmm? Kissing your cheek? Why did you let him touch you, mommy?” His calm voice made you shiver.

“How did you… have you been watching me?” You asked, taking a step closer to him, only the coffee table separated you.

He was quiet. Cocky pout on his pink lips. You noticed the slight stubble on his cheeks and how much older they made him seem. More broody even.

“You can’t do this.” You spoke softly, trying not to aggravate the situation. “You can’t invade my privacy like–”

He cut you off. “Oh please,” he pouted like the brat he was. “I’m your baby boy, aren’t I, mommy? Can’t I care about you? Can't I keep an eye on you when you’re away?”

“Bucky… this is too far–”

He cut you off again. “Too far?” He chuckled in that humourless way. “You think I’ve gone too far?” He stood up, he was in no way drunk.

His movements were calculated, steady, and commanding. He walked around the expensive coffee table and stopped just inches away from you.

“You’re lucky you couldn’t hear the thoughts that crossed my mind when I first saw him kissing you, mommy.” He leaned in and breathed in your scent. “He was this close to you, wasn’t he?”

“Bucky,” You tried not to let your voice sound shaky. “Please…

“Tell me why I shouldn't go back and…” He brought his gun up in front of your face, “mess with him a little.” He scoffed. “How dare he touch you? Hmm?” Bucky brought the barrel up to your face and trailed it down your cheek. “Doesn’t he know you’re mine?” He whispered. “Doesn’t he know only I get to touch you?” He scoffed. “Or am I your secret, mommy? Huh? Do you not tell people about me?”

You gasped as the cold barrel trailed down your neck, and disappeared into your shirt, lightly grazing the tops of your breasts. His lips brushed against your neck next, kissing his way leisurely up and down.

You were a mess. You were scared but you knew he would never hurt you. You thought, maybe if you hadn’t been so harsh when it came to breaking up with him out of nowhere, maybe he wouldn’t be like this right now… right?

His hands quickly undid your top buttons as he kissed his way down to your cleavage. He let out a soft, vulnerable moan as he tasted your skin. The sound of it almost made you slide your hands into his hair to tug on it. Almost.

“Bucky,” You whispered breathlessly, “You can’t do that. You can’t hurt him just because he kissed me goodbye.”

He scoffed, pulling away to look into your eyes. His pretty blue eyes were still vacant. “I can. I might.” He said, “You know I would do absolutely anything for you.” He brought the barrel of the gun and tapped it against your parted lips.

“No.” You insisted softly, “You can’t.”

“No?” He gave you his signature puppy dog eyes. “Tell me why I shouldn't? Give me one good little reason, mommy.” He leaned in, his free hand touching you down your side. He knew your body too well. He knew you would be dripping for him if he just checked.

He went to do it, but chose to tease you instead, dragging his fingers up and down your inner thighs through the fabric of your skirt.

Oh damn him. Him and his intoxicating touch.

“Because I love you.” You finally slid your fingers into his hair. He closed his eyes momentarily, as if relishing the feeling of your touch against his scalp. “Just you.” You said, “It’s just you for me. He’s no one.”

For once, his eyes lit up. “You promise, mommy?”

“I promise baby boy, I promise.” You repeated. “Put the gun down.” You instructed. And when he did as you asked, tossing the gun aside, you said, “Now how about we forget about all of this and have one of our lazy nights, hmm? Just dinner, a movie, me and you?”

Bucky smiled, leaning in to nuzzle your cheek. His arms wrapped around you tightly. You couldn’t help but hug him back. The familiarity of his body made you burn. The touch of his skin against yours like the electricity you craved.

He whined as he nuzzled your neck. “I’ve missed you…” He whispered, unbuttoning the rest of your shirt before taking it off slowly. “Can I please have you? I need to feel you, mommy. Need to taste you… need to make you feel good.” He breathed into your ear, making your body shiver. “Please?” He begged.

You nodded and let him guide you over to the sofa. He sat down and pulled you onto his lap. He chuckled once you straddled him, pulling your skirt up as you undid his pants.

“I won’t let anyone come between us, mommy. No one. Ever.” He whispered, sliding his fingers between your legs and rubbing you where you needed him the most. He watched in awe as you gasped and moaned. Was there a prettier sight? He wasn’t sure there was. “You won’t leave me, would you?”

“No…” You gasped as he slid two fingers into you, stroking you until he brought you right over to that edge, and kept you there.

“Good.” He said, “‘Cause I’m crazy about you.” He chuckled, “You can’t blame me, though. Love does that to people.” He leaned in to kiss your neck, biting down on your skin playfully. “You know there’s nothing I won’t do for you, right?” He sped up his fingers, fucking you a little faster until he began to hear you make those soft little sounds he loved so much. The ones where you tried your hardest not to moan. “I will beg, worship, and plead…” He trailed off, stopped finger-fucking you for a moment, just to get your attention before adding, “...and I won’t hesitate to even kill for you, mommy.”

You whimpered. Fear and pleasure. There was a warning in his eyes. His glassy blue eyes, there was truth in them. And manic love. Obsession.

There was no other way for you to go about this situation so you took on your role. You reached up and carefully wrapped your hand around his throat, pushing his head back just a little. You stared into his eyes as you lifted your hips and positioned your hole to the tip of his hard cock.

“No killing. None of that, you hear me?” You said as you slowly sank down his cock. His lips parted as he exhaled shakily, your walls clenching around him for emphasis. “Do you hear me, baby?”

He let out one of his pretty whimpers and mumbled, “Yes, mommy.” Then he whined and cursed, “Oh fuck you feel so good.”

“Good.” You whispered, lifting your hips up and sinking down on him again. Repeating the movement until the two of you were groaning and gasping for air.

Meanwhile, his thoughts raced as you took his cock so perfectly. His perfect mommy. The love of his life. The woman who controlled every move, every emotion, every thing of his.

He smirked as he looked up at you, how you were riding him. Nice and slow, and passionate.

Bucky had to suppress a scoff. You really thought he’d let Steve go just like that?

Silly mommy…

Bucky might be the rebel son of his family, but his last name and generational wealth still spoke volumes. He had a little army of his own that he could command into doing anything. And they were currently… taking care of Steve on his behalf.

Not that you would ever know.

All you would know would be that on his way to work on Monday, Steve would have an unfortunate, terrible accident.

“Just you and me, right mommy?” He whispered in his lust-drunk haze as he looked up at you. You looked like a goddess. One he wouldn’t mind worshipping for the rest of his days.

You agreed. Unknowingly fueling his obsession. “Just us, baby.”

---

Fin.

a/n: [dials number rapidly] Freud my good man, listen–

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine

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hairyjocktf · 2 months

Text

New Recruit

Luke was at a low point in his life. He’d graduated high school but wasn’t smart enough to get into college. He had tried working some retail jobs around but he never had the work ethic to last long in those. He had similar problems in other gigs. It had been months of him bumming around and his parents had finally had enough, he was officially out of their house. With few options left, he was desperate. While walking down the street one day he saw an ad for the military, boasting stable careers and plenty of benefits. He’d played a couple seasons of sports in school and felt like he might be able to at least pass the initial evaluation, and out of near desperation he decided to try and enlist.

He made his way to the army office nearby that had been listed in the ad, and to his surprise there was no trouble. They did a quick physical evaluation and he was good to go, ready to sign up for boot camp. Luke was nervous; there was no coming back from this point. He thought about it for a couple minutes while being stared down by the recruiter, realizing he really couldn’t think of a better option. And so he signed the contract, unsure of what was to come.

Two weeks later he was on a bus out to the base to start his boot camp. Luke didn’t know what to expect; he’d heard numerous stories about how brutal this training would be to weed out people. The bus was filled with the strangest mix of people he’d ever seen. Some guys looked like they’d been using steroids since they were 12, some looked like they belonged in an accounting department, and some he just couldn't pin down. Regardless of who surrounded him, Luke felt out of place, and he was only growing more nervous as the bus sped through the dense woods. After what felt like hours they finally cleared the trees and he saw the huge fences that would enclose the next few months of his life.

The buses pulled into a large dirt clearing at the center of the base where they forced everybody out. A huge and built man addressed the new recruits with his booming voice.

“Privates! Welcome to Fort Eagleton!” he shouted above the noise of disembarking men. “I am Drill Sergeant Thornton, and I’ll be in charge of whipping you lot into shape!”

Luke gulped, it looked like those rumors had been true. He was in for a world of hurt.

“You’ll be under my watch and command for the next ten weeks, learning what it takes to be a soldier. First, I want to see what I’m working with. Privates! See those chalk markings on the ground? Space yourselves on them for inspection!”

His loud voice echoed across the clearing. The men all scrambled to stand in position, each on a chalk marking that were spaced four feet apart in a grid. Luke found an open one unfortunately near the front of the pack. He glanced nervously around at the others. Some were standing at the ready like they had been born for this, but the rest also looked around with worried looks on their faces. Their attention was brought back to the front by the thundering voice of the sergeant.

“Listen up, privates! Here with me I have Corporal Evans, a prime example of what you should all strive to become in the next ten weeks!” The sergeant gestured to a tall and strong looking man next to him. Evans was at attention in full uniform, but Luke could tell the man was absolutely jacked underneath. He could see how the coat was straining against his huge, broad shoulders.

“He is the epitome of a soldier, and what all men should model themselves after,” the sergeant continued. “I will make a real man out of each of you! That is my promise as your Drill Sergeant. However, some of you may take to that easier than others.” He began walking through the rows of men in plainclothes, observing each of them with scrutiny. Luke’s eyes went wide as the sergeant stopped directly in front of him.

“You, boy. What’s your name?” The sergeant did not quiet his voice even when right next to him.

“Luke,” he said shakily, “Luke Peterson.”

“Private Peterson, you may have passed the exam to get here, but I hold doubts that you are up to the challenge that is basic training,” the sergeant said while making intense eye contact. “Do you think you have what it takes to become a soldier?”

“Yes.. sir,”

“Well! Let’s put that to the test,” he boomed again. “Evans! Bring me this private’s new uniform.”

Within seconds, the man was at his side holding a folded army uniform. Thornton took it and handed it to Luke.

“Put this on, boy! Let’s see how you’ll fit in here,” he said with an almost sinister twinkle in his eyes.

Luke had no choice but to then strip down to his underwear in the middle of the crowd. The eyes of the dozens of men he had entered with were burning holes in him as he changed into the fatigues. They immediately felt too large for him but he continued as the sergeant watched impatiently. He pulled up and belted the pants before buttoning the shirt closed. They were at least two or three sizes too big, Luke thought, and he looked ridiculous in the oversized fatigues. He laced up his boots which were also excessively large and stood back up to address the sergeant’s burning gaze.

Out of nowhere, Luke suddenly felt like he’d taken a punch straight in his stomach. He collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, gasping for air as the pain in his stomach did not lessen, but began to spread. His torso felt like it was on fire, and he groaned in distress as his body was overwhelmed. Everyone else in the clearing was watching in awe as Luke’s body began to grow. His spine lengthened slowly, back widening and shoulders broadening. His legs began to stretch and grow longer, adding a good eight inches to his height. He began packing on muscle like he’d been working out for a decade, limbs inflating in seconds adding strength and size. His chest pushed out into two meaty pecs, which finally caught Luke’s attention from the incredible soreness he felt as his body exploded in size. His eyes widened as he watched his own body fill out the fatigues that had moments ago been far too large, arms swelling to fill the sleeves and chest pushing against the now tight shirt. His legs also bulked up, adding 20 pounds of muscle as quads and hamstrings grew in and thickened. His feet expanded, pushing against his large boots. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his jaw as it widened, giving him a square and masculine face. The pain began to subside and Luke managed to stand back up, this time matching the sergeant in height.

The drill sergeant addressed him, “Good start soldier.” He had a hint of a grin on his stern face.

Luke was angry and confused, “What the hell was that? What did you do to me? What do you mean good start…” His sentence trailed off as he felt an intense tingling feeling arise on his chest. Underneath his tight uniform shirt, in the center of his massive pecs, tiny brown hairs began to poke out of his skin. The hairs started out thin and wispy but quickly thickened as they grew longer, spreading out across Luke’s mountainous chest muscles. The hairs erupted across the expanse, burying the skin under a dense layer of fur as they grew thicker, longer, and tangled together. Especially dark hairs sprouted around his sensitive nipples, causing Luke to let out a moan as he brought his hands up to massage them. The crowd watching Luke was stunned at his actions in front of the sergeant. Some of the men closest to him could see what looked like thick hairs beginning to poke out from above his shirt collar. The fur on his chest had spread up across his collarbone and had started peeking up onto his neck, where it was finally visible. The sergeant stood watching with a smirk as Luke was lost in a world of pleasure, rubbing his nipples as hair began taking over his body. The hair was not confined to just his chest, and shot down south across his stomach, coating his new abs and muscle in the same thick rug. The hair was growing in so densely that it started to push out through cracks and seams in his uniform.

The other privates were speechless watching this erotic display in front of them, not knowing what to do. A few noticed Corporal Evans, who was standing behind the drill sergeant, subtly mimicking Luke’s actions, seemingly lost in his own bodily pleasures as his hands roamed his body. Luke’s breaths grew louder as the hairs continued climbing up his thick neck, creating a river of hair traveling up from his chest to his square jaw. He’d never had much stubble before, just some light peach fuzz, but that was changing. The soft hairs were overrun with thick, wiry, testosterone-fueled growth that coated his jaw in an incredibly dense beard. His upper lip was next, first darkening with the shadow of thick stubble before the hairs pushed out and completed the full beard on his face. Luke’s hands moved upwards, stroking his fingers through the long wiry hairs that now covered the lower half of his face. His eyes closed as the pleasurable sensation began to control his actions, wanting to experience every ounce of this growth. The beard growth was very noticeable to the crowd as well, as men further away began to break formation and inch closer to see what was happening to Luke. Evans was in the back, feeling the scratchy stubble on his own face as it pushed out a couple millimeters, just enough to leave a dark five o’clock shadow.

Unbeknownst to the crowd, Luke’s body was continuing to change under his uniform. Luke could feel every new hair sprout out of him as the hairs spread, conquering more of his newly buff body. His armpits tingled as the follicles there went into overdrive, pumping out hair after hair. What had previously been a sparse grouping of hairs quickly became a thick tuft of sweaty, musky hair. Dark and wiry hairs pushed out of bare skin, spreading out and covering his pits in a full manly bush, already dense enough to trap his body sweat and stench. Luke stuck one hand into his shirt to scratch the growing forest in his pit before pulling it out and smelling his fingers. He shivered from the euphoric smell of his own musk that was only growing more potent. The pit hairs continued to spread and even connected with his chest hair, creating a seamless rug across his whole upper body.

The wave of hair growth continued advancing across his muscular body, with hairs beginning to pop up across his broad shoulders. They were joined by more and more hairs, giving Luke a thick coating across his traps. The hairs began to crawl down his brawny back, knitting a rug as they grew thick and tangled across his shoulder blades. As the hairs advanced down his spine they also began covering his arms, where long dark hairs were pushing out across his triceps before utterly engulfing his forearms in dark fur. Luke watched as the thick hairs poked out of his sleeves, ensuring anyone would know even in full uniform how hairy he was under there. That is, if they didn’t notice his large, calloused hands, which had their own small carpet of hairs sprouting across the backs. Luke could feel as the hairs creeping down his back reached the bottom, where a bushy tuft sprouted up just above his waistband. He subconsciously knew what was next, and moments later he was overcome with bliss as his thick ass cheeks sprouted their own rug of dense curly hairs. He could feel how the thickest, longest, and darkest hairs were pushing out of his crack, and he reached his hand into his pants to feel the silky fur that filled the gap. As all eyes were on Luke, Corporal Evans was still engaged in his own stimulation, feeling his pit hairs push out a little more, his back get a little more hairy, and his ass plump up just a bit more.

Luke felt his now size 16 feet heat up in his boots, beginning to grow itchy. Hairs were crawling out of the tops of his massive feet, popping out of his thick toes shortly after. The hairs climbed up his thick legs from his feet, coating his calves in dark hairs before engulfing his massive thighs. The hairs came in thicker and darker as they neared his groin, where his formerly modest bush began to double, then triple in size. Thick pubes were sprouting up all across his crotch, enveloping the area in a dense forest of curly hairs. Luke let out another moan at the sensation and shoved both his hands into his pants. He felt the coarse hairs sprouting through his fingers as his bush continued to spread outward. His cock began gushing precum before it too began to grow. It had almost been swallowed up by the immense bush, but now it hardened and pushed out, growing longer and thicker. Luke grasped his growing member and felt the hair climbing up the shaft as it continued to push further out of his bush. He felt his balls swell in size and drop a little farther down, becoming coated in hairs just like the rest of his groin.

Luke was overcome with euphoria, and the animalistic instincts took full control as he began stroking his nine inch cock with both hands, each pump blasting his brain and body with pleasure. The sergeant and everyone else watched as Luke jacked off to his own transforming body right in front of them, stunned into silence. Corporal Evans, still unnoticed, slid his own hand into his pants to deal with his rock hard problem. Luke kept at it, moaning louder and louder as precum poured out of his cock. Every stroke seemed to make him grow just a tad bit larger, just a little hairier. Finally, after a few minutes of being overcome by pure ecstasy, he erupted, a fountain of cum spraying out covering his new uniform in sticky white semen. Some of it even got on the sergeant, who seemed unfazed. Evans grunted quietly as he pumped a massive load directly into his jockstrap that he had on under his uniform. He wasn’t prepared for quite how large it would be, leaving a wet spot on the front of his trousers and leaking down his leg. Luke panted as his mind returned to his body, finally taking stock of the situation and realizing in a moment of panic what had happened.

Before he could say anything Sergeant Thornton started to laugh. His roaring laughter pierced the awkward silence that had overtaken the space for the last while. He walked over to Luke and slapped him on the back.

“Atta boy! That’s what I like to see,” He said to Luke with an uncharacteristic smile. The crowd was shocked. That was not the response they’d expected in the slightest.

“You’re fit to be a real soldier now, and I trust you’ll serve us well. A fine specimen!” he turned to the crowd. “Look here, privates! This is a real man, a bastion of strength and masculinity who can take a beating and give some hell.”

Luke too was stunned. He was scrambling to process what had just happened to him, and that it was seemingly planned by the sergeant the whole time. His thoughts were cut short by the sergeant addressing him again.

“Well son, you’ve done good today. We’ll have to clean up that scruff of yours to get you in regulation,” he stroked Luke’s new beard with his hand, sending a bolt of lightning directly to his still semi-erect cock. “Corporal Evans will help you out with that, and with cleaning up your fatigues,” he said as Evans approached from behind. Luke noticed the darker stubble on his face and the dark splotch in his bulging crotch.

The drill sergeant once again spoke to the crowd, “The rest of you will be assigned living quarters and shown the areas for training. I want you all back here at exactly 1300 hours!”

Evans ushered Luke away from the grounds and into his own private quarters, where he stripped out of his cum soaked uniform and finally got a look at himself. He was taller, absolutely built, and incredibly hairy. It turned him on in a way he never knew he could be, his cock once again rising to full mast. He rubbed his hands through all of his new fur, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“I was in your shoes when I enlisted,” Evans said to him. Luke turned to face him and saw a slight blush in his cheeks, and his bulge was even more noticeable. “I’ll make sure you get cleaned up and everything, but how about first we just enjoy the new you in its raw form,” he said, stepping right up to Luke and wrapping his hand around Luke’s cock. Lost for words, Luke pulled off Evans’ hat and leaned in for a kiss, grabbing his bulge and pushing him against the wall.

Maybe bootcamp wouldn’t be that bad.

This was my longest and most ambitious story yet! Hope y'all enjoy it and thank you for nearly 400 followers in just a month! Feel free to dm or send an ask if you have ideas for future stories.

#male tf #hairy tf #jock tf #hair growth #hairy #hairy chest #hairy pits #hairy back #beard #military tf #my writing

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lynnielovestlou · 3 months

Note

au where abby and reader try to break up :( emphasis on try because they just can’t stay away from each other :( they keep talking and updating each other on things until its too much :( and they get back together :)

(i put my whole back into this pls be nice)

꩜ cw: no smut! abby x reader , reader works at a plant nursery , use of pet names

masterlist

the breakup was rough, to say the least. abby was your first everything. your first kiss, your first girlfriend, your first time, and your first everything. letting go of that was the most heartbreaking thing either of you had gone through.

for the first couple of days post-breakup you could hardly eat and sleep. your bed felt so cold and so empty without her next to you. you even made a lame attempt to line some pillows up to make it seem like she was there. and for a moment, it worked. but her warmth wasn't there for you to wrap yourself in. her heartbeat wasn't there to listen to. and her arms weren't there to hold you.

despite the fact that you were no longer together, you still talked. but less than you usually did. so many messages went unsent, so many calls you hesitated calling.

the first time either of you said something to one another was when you texted her about the job you had been wanting for months. she knew how much you wanted to work at the plant nursery down the street from your apartment, even before you split up. so when you got the email after your interview saying that you got the job, your immediate instinct was to tell abby.

"i got the job!" you had texted her.

"thats so amazing, sweet girl." she responded so quickly that it made you think she was anticipating you to text her, "i'm proud of you."

and just like nothing had happened, you were smiling down at your phone, just like you were before you started dating.

but that butterfly feeling in your stomach didn't last long. it fizzled out when you remembered you were no longer with her.

over the course of a few days you chatted about little things. your first day at your new job. abby's dog, alice, catching a squirrel in her backyard. little, minuscule check-ins. nothing too serious.

until a week later.

"want to get coffee?" she texted you one day, while you were busy watering plants in your denim overalls.

it caught you by surprise, to say the least, but you knew it wasn't a date. just two friends getting together for a cup of joe. not romantic. strictly platonic.

no matter how much you wanted to run back into her muscular arms and re-familiarize yourself with her touch, you couldn't. you shouldn't.

"sure." you text her shortly, without the need to ask which coffee shop or what time. while you were dating, you went every week to the same coffee shop at the same time on the same day and ordered the same drinks.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟthat weekend ｡┈┈⋆

the second you walked through the doors of the coffee shop your nostrils were filled with the scent you missed so much. freshly brewed coffee grounds and warm pastries. the faint sound of chattering from the patrons enjoying their own treats.

and there she was.

sitting at a two-top table, two drinks in front of her. she was already looking at you, as if drinking in your image. even though you were devastated and still a little heartbroken from the previous events of your relationship, you did a good job at finding distractions. which is probably why you don't look quite as miserable as she does.

"hey." she greets you as you sit down across from her, "i um.. i ordered the drink you usually got."

she remembered.

the mug was still warm, so she couldn't have been here long.

"thank you." you nod your head once, "you didn't have to do that."

"its no big deal." she shrugs, taking a sip of her coffee. black coffee, to be exact. you never understood how she liked the bitter taste of it, "how have you been?"

"good." you answer quickly. so quick that she has a hard time believing you. in reality, you were good. but you weren't great. you would never admit to her how you would accidentally cook too much food, because you were used to cooking for two people. you would never admit how many times you've accidentally set the table with two plates instead of one. how you would say 'i'm home!' when you walk through the door, even when nobody was there to listen, "i'm uh.. how about you? how are you?"

"im alright." she says.

but not good. you tell yourself in your head.

for a little while the two of you just chit-chat back and forth, talking about nonsense for half an hour before you notice abby fidgeting. she can't sit still, and you have a gut feeling you know exactly what's wrong.

"sweetheart, i cant keep doing this." she finally breaks, interrupting your rant about how you hate one of your coworkers.

"wait, huh? did i say something wrong?"

she shakes her head, glancing around the coffee shop like she's afraid to make eye contact with you, "we shouldn't have broken up."

oh.

your heart falls to the pit of your stomach, "what?"

"i need you more than i thought i did. i miss you."

you stare at her, eyes wide and lips slightly agape. you wanted to hear these words, but you never thought that you ever would, "are you.. are you serious?"

she nods her head, looking back at you.

"abby, i... i dont know."

"baby." she breathes deeply, desperate for your forgiveness, "dont make me beg."

you exhale, your cheeks burning crimson. you had waited so long for one of you to finally say something about the breakup. you waited so long for one of you to speak up about the need for the other.

without another moment of hesitation, you lean across the table, boldly smashing your lips into hers.

she tastes sweet, just as she always had. she was wearing coffee and the mint chapstick you left at her house and she never returned it, because she liked being able to have your taste with her.

she smiles against your lips, baring all her teeth. when you both pull away you can see her little dimples on her cheeks, the skin underneath her freckles a light shade of pink.

"so.." she says, folding her hands together in her bulky lap, "is that a yes?"

#lynnielovestlou #lesbian #the last of us #queer #fanfiction #fanfic #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem reader #abby x you #fanfic fluff #abby fluff #lesbian fanfic

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luciferlightbringer · 3 months

Text

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 10

Chapter 9|Chapter 10|Chapter 11|Updated through Chapter 12

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.6k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity,

Over the next couple of days, Charlie and the hotel crew started to prepare for their little "intervention" dinner with her dad. Charlie and Vaggie worked together to make up dinner while the others made sure the place was kept up, mostly Niffty.

Later that night, Charlie heard a knock on the front door. Was that him? Why didn't he just teleport in like usual? Charlie went to open the door and saw Lucifer giving his big focused smile.

"Charlie! It's so good to see you," he said enveloping his daughter in a big hug. It had been weeks since he had hugged anyone, the sting of how much he missed it had started to grow back.

"Hi Dad," Charlie said hugging her father back tightly and swinging him around. "I've missed you so much, it's been weird not having you around as much."

Lucifer tightened his grip on Charlie as they hugged, "I'm- sorry about that sweetie, I just... got busy. I'll try to be better about that, I promise."

Charlie loosened the hug enough to study her dad's face, it was tired and worn out, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Lucifer tried hard to keep his facade up, but he knew his daughter was trying to read him.

"Dad... are you sure you are ok?" Charlie asked with concern.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" he said still trying to hold a smile, holding a silence but futile prayer that he could find a way to fool her into thinking he was ok.

The other members of the hotel, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Cherri, Vaggie, even Alastor started to walk in from the shadows of the hotel lobby.

"Cuz, with all due respect your highness," Husk chimed in "One, you are a bad liar, two, we actually do care about you," Husk looked over to Alastor out of the side on his eye, "well... most of us care about you, and three... we are also worried about (y/n)."

"Ya!" Angel added in, "You two were a couple of peas in a pod, she was even talkin' 'bout wantin' to move in here, den 'poof', ya both are nowhere ta be seen fa' weeks. What gives?! I thought we mattered to you guys!"

"Ya! I miss you and our girl, where is she?!" Cherri pipped in, "We loved watching you two hangin' out here togetha."

"She was a bad girl! But she was really nice! I liked when she would listen to me talk about my bugs fights!" Niffty added, holding up her knife.

Alastor sighed, "Honestly, I'm mostly here for the entertainment of your sorrow... but (y/n) was important to the growth of the hotel and it's community. Plus, she amuses me. I had grown unfortunately fond of her charms," Alastor said with a wicked smile, his comment made the room pause a moment, Lucifer glared at him.

"We miss both of you, sir, it's just not the same here without you. We just kinda feel like we've been left in the dark," Vaggie added, rubbing her arm.

Lucifer sighed, he didn't realize just how much you had meant to not just Charlie, but to the entire hotel. That you guys together had been. It was important for them to know the truth.

"Ok, ok... I'll tell you the truth... but it isn't going to be pretty," Lucifer said with shame painting his face. Lucifer went to go sit on the couch and the others came to sit around him and listen to the story. Lucifer gave an abbreviated story of the last several months of his time with you, truth that you were actually a prostitute he had hired, the story with how it all started with the conversation with Ozzie, the first appointment and the chaos and joy that cam from it, how you had helped him to connect with Charlie and the hotel again, how you supported either other through the stresses of the war with Heaven, how he protected you, how he realized he had fallen in love with you, and then the last night you were together, the blur and confusion of it all, and how finally you had banned him from being able to be scheduled with you again and how you had been told that the whole dynamic was just her acting like she cared about him. He didn't blame or try to paint you in a bad light, he was just defeated and sad.

During the story, the group went through a series of emotions, all of them now understanding why you had not able to talk about your relationship with him at all.

"Damn it! No wonder I liked her so much! She's in da same industry as me!" shouted Angel when the story was over, "She felt so kindred and I couldn't fuckin' see it. Oh, she is good."

"So... none of your relationship was real?" Charlie asked, sadly.

Lucifer shook his head, "No... no I don't think it was."

Husk shook his head, "You're wrong." Everyone looked at him. "Something here doesn't add up, Angel, Cherri, you remember our conversation with (y/n) the night before the war with heaven?" They nodded, Husk looked at Lucifer, "The only lie I have ever seen (y/n) tell you was that she was sad that night because of the war, which... she still was... but the reason she was sad before you came over to check on her was because she was sad that she could not be honest with us about your guy's relationship. We had asked her about what was up because you guys seemed more than friends, and she told us she could not talk about it. And she has tried to bluff some things about how she presents herself before when we first met her, probably all just to protect the secret you guys had. Trust me when I say, she was never fake with how much I saw she cared about you."

Lucifer shrugged, "It doesn't seem to matter though it though... in the end, she banned me."

"Why?" asked Angel, "Did she tell you? Did you ever hurt her?"

"No. Someone else at the place she works called me and told me, she was gone or... something. I don't know if I hurt her, never physically, but I was so drunk at the end of our last night together... I don't know what I did or why I got banned... and I'd never want to cross a boundary like that... she's had too many fucked up people in her life... I don't want to add to that club any more than I already had," he buried his face in his hands, "it sounds like keeping the secret was already a lot of weight on her, I didn't realize..."

"King, listen, I've been in the sex business for a long time, nothin' about this situation makes sense ta me, both from a sex worka' standpoint or from what I know about her. Did you pay her well?" Angel ask inquisitively.

Lucifer nodded, "Ya, I gave her big tips too, I wanted to to be happy and get what she needed."

"No good sex worka' in their right mind would full on ban you for one weird night, even if you did rough 'em up a bit. You told us there was some other client that had been roughin' her up a bit that you took care of. Tell me, did she ban him on the first night of havin' any issues with him?" Angel asked. Lucifer shook his head, starting to think about Angel's words.

"Right. So unless she was stupid, which I know she aint, she wouldn't've cut off probably the best paycheck in hell just because you had one sloppy drunk night where something may have gone weird. Also, on top a dat, sex worka's can be good actors and can pretend like they care. But they try not to get attached, and like Husker said earlier, she got attached, and boy it was obvious. That's probably a big reason why I didn't sus her out sooner. By da time we met her, nothin' about ya relationship was actin' anymore, on either side. Cuz you love 'er, dontcha?" Angel pointed while he leaned back on the couch.

Everyone looked at Lucifer, he nodded, "I do, I love her."

Angel nodded, "And you would do anythin' to make 'er happy, including keepin' yourself away from her if you thought it would make her happier, isn't dat right?"

Lucifer started to tear up, "Yes..." Charlie started to tear up and hugged her dad.

"Therefore... there is something fishy happenin' here, there must be some form of miscommunication, or... a third party that likes messin' with shit," Angel looked up at the ceiling thinking.

"How do you know all this?" asked Vaggie suspiciously. Angel looked over at Vaggie and have her a sly smile, "When you're life was spent in da Mafia and your afterlife was spent around shitty desperate sex worka's that are dying to get a taste of your success by any means necessary, you pick up on a few things, baby."

Charlie perked up, "You think someone at her work did this?"

Angel shrugged, "It's very possible, not 100%, but it's possible. Lucifer, did (y/n) ever talk about having any issues with other girls at her workplace?"

Lucifer thought a moment, "Hmm... she mentioned there being some annoying girls that she some sometimes needed to put in their place, but nothing this crazy hostile. But then again, she didn't like talking about the Lounge much, and I didn't like asking because I started to get more sad whenever I was reminded that I was just a client to her."

"The Lounge, like the Luxurious Lady's Lounge in the Entertainment district?" asked Angel.

"Ya... you know it?" asked Lucifer.

Angel smiled, "Know it? Ha! Sure do. I know exactly where it is too. May have even seen 'er once or twice without knowin' it"

Charlie smiled at her dad, "Dad, if we know where she is, we should just go and talk to her!"

Lucifer shook his head, "Oh. No, no, nonononono, Charlie... I can't do that."

"Why not? Dad, come on, we can try clearing all this up!" Charlie pleaded.

Lucifer sighed, "I just... until I know for sure that she didn't actually ban me, I won't want to risk that. It's just not a good idea... Plus, I don't want to attract more attention to her if she is having issues there," Lucifer hung his head.

Charlie thought for a minute, then a lightblub went off, Charlie got down to Lucifer's eye level, "Dad, she may have "banned" you for seeing her... but not me! I could go talk to her!"

"Charlie, hold on, dis is a bad idea," Angel piped up, everyone looked at him confused, "Rememba' what happened when you tried to talk to Val for me?" Charlie thought for a second remembering the disaster that was, feeling the guilt return at the memory. Angel smiled, "Obviously I need to go with you!" The room erupted into laughter, Angel almost had them for a second, even Lucifer managed to crack a smile in his down mood.

"You guys are really willing to do this for me?" he asked looking to Charlie and Angel.

Charlie looked at Angel and back to her dad, and grabbed Lucifer's hands, "Yes, for you... and for us."

Lucifer smiled, "Ok... but can we actually have dinner before you go? I was anticipating an actual dinner instead of an intervention, but I guess I should have expected both." The room filled with laughter again and the group set up for dinner before Charlie and Angel would head out to find the Lounge, and more importantly, you.

______________________________________________________________

Later that evening, you were hanging out in the lobby of the Lounge, the same way that you had the nights before Lucifer had started to take up more of your schedule. You were still getting clients, but it was back to the old torturous monotony as before, but it somehow felt worse now that you had gotten a taste of love... or what you thought had been love. Every client made you wish you were back in Lucifer's arms, wanting to explore Lucifer's body... not this shithole and all it's shitty clients.

You felt yourself grow more bitter as you saw Cynthhhhia grow back in popularity with the customers, it seemed her few days on the phones really scared her into staying in her lane, especially because Larry had apparently made her take all of the calls during those three days. Something did not sit right with you about her more recent success, but you didn't want to turn into another her. Plus, the happier she was, the more she left you alone. Guess there had to be a bright side, somewhere.

You were sitting on your favorite couch in a long, blue, shear, flowy robe, when you saw a tall pair of individuals walk into the lobby. But not just any two tall people, two that you recognized, Angel and Charlie. You eyes went wide, and you quickly slinked off to the dressing room to hide.

'What the hell? What are they doing there?!' you thought to yourself. You hoped they hadn't seen you, even though your time with Lucifer was up, you still wanted to keep his secret about the two of you.

Charlie and Angel walked up to the front counter where Larry was standing he did a double-take seeing both of them.

"Whoooaaa, Princess Morningstar! And the famous Angel Dust! What an honor to have you two in to join us this evening. Are we interested in having a little fun tonight? I am surprised, I didn't think one of Val's best boys would be needin' to pay for fun. Unless... you are looking for a change in employment?" He flashed a sharp smile.

Charlie piped up, "Hi! Uhh, Charlie is just fine. And no, neither of those things. We are here looking for one of your girls, (y/n)."

"Is she here tonight?" Angel added.

"Uhh... ya. What business do you have with her?" Larry asked, wondering how they knew her.

"She's a friend ah mine," Angel chimed in, "She's mean MIA for a few weeks and we have been worried about 'er, we were wantin' to check in on her. Charlie has gotten to know her a little too and wanted to come with."

"Can we pleaseee see her?" Charlie pleaded.

Larry thought for a moment, "I don't know, she is still on the clock for several more hours. I can't just let her off early." Charlie and Angel look at each other and nod, Charlie pulls out an bunch of cash, "Will this cover her for the rest of the night." Larry smiled as the amount of money in her hands, it was more than enough.

"I do believe that will work Ms. Mornin- uhh, Charlie," Larry said taking the cash, "Let me go get her." Charlie is glad that she learned that in some situations like this, money talked more than words or power. She came more prepared than she had with her conversation with Valentino over getting more of Angel's time.

Larry searched around before finding you in the dressing room, "Hey Babydoll, you've been bought out for the rest of the night by some friends of yours, Angel Dust and Charlie Morningstar. I didn't know you knew them." He said giving you a look.

They bought you out for the rest of the night? Did they come here specifically to find you? How did they know you were here? Did... did Lucifer tell them? You felt some fear and hope bloom in your chest.

"Oh, haha ya, you know me, I'm just not one to talk about my personal life at work," you gave Larry a big smile. He laughed, "Alright, keep your secrets, sounds like they wanted to talk to you about something, worried about you. Go show 'em a good time tonight, ok?" You nodded, and quickly switching out to a more solid less see-through robe, before walking out to the lobby.

Angel and Charlie saw you coming, Charlie ran to you but you stopped her short of you, "Not here, come with me," and you led your friends up to you apartment. Once you were inside you room and the door was locked, you said "Ok now you can hug me if you want to."

This time, both Charlie and Angel want to embrace you at the same time, starting to tear up a little.

"Oh my god, (y/n)! It's so good to see you! We were so worried about you!" Charlie asked.

"Ya! When you and Lucifer stopped showing up at the hotel to visit, we started worrying, babe," Angel added.

"Wait... hold up, Lucifer stopped showing up to the hotel? How did you know I was here?" you asked.

"We sat my Dad down and he finally broke and told us the truth about everything," Charlie said.

"Ya, he spilled da beans on your guy's relationship, you don't have to keep his secret from us anymore," Angel added.

Tears started to well up in your eyes, "I don't?!" The two nodded. You started to sob and hugged them back. "I- I'm so sorry, I- I didn't want to lie to anyone but he wanted to keep it discreet, which I understand, he is the King! And it was so confusing, and then, one night he got really drunk one night, and it worried me, he wasn't acting like himself, and told me he loved me, but, but I didn't know if I could believe him. And he was getting all touchy and doe eyed, and I didn't know what was really what he wanted because it was all so sudden. So I ran! I ran because I was so scared, and- and- and-" Charlie and Angel both hugged you and tried to shushed you through your crying.

"It's ok, no one is mad at you. That sounds like a hard position to be in, it sounds like there was a lot of confusion on both sides," Charlie said.

"Confusion?" you sniffled, "Is that why he hasn't called to schedule with me again?"

Charlie and Angel looked at each other then back to you, "You didn't ban him then?"

You blinked, "WHAT?! Why on earth would anyone think I blocked him?! No! I freaked out and went on a trip for a few days to clear my head. I came back and I was told that he said he would call to reschedule, and then he just never did! I thought he hated me!"

"No!" Charlie cried, "No, Oh my god, he is a total wreck without you! He misses you like crazy! He thinks he was put on your "No Kiss List" or something"

"We can't even say your name without him shuttin' down and lookin' like we killed his dog or somethin'," Angel added, Charlie gave him a look, "What?! It's true!"

You sat down on the couch and stared out for a minute, thinking, "Why didn't he come to ask me himself?"

Charlie shrugged, "He doesn't remember what happened that night, he is convinced that he hurt you terribly and that it's why you banned him. He didn't want to hurt you so he respected that wish. We tried to get him to come tonight but he was scared in case you really had banned him."

You thought for a few more moments, who could have caused this? Who would have done this to you both. Your eyes widened. No, could this have been... did Cynthhhhia do this? Would she have been the one to make the calls that day since that was her punishment. You were pretty sure, but you didn't want to act without proof. You clenched your fists, starting to fill with rage.

"Is he at the hotel?" They nodded. You thought again, "Can you take me to him?" They nodded again with more excitement.

"I have just one question for you, before we go," Charlie started, looking into your eyes, "Tell me truthfully, do you actually care about my dad, not just for an income, but as a person?"

You took Charlie's hands in your own, "Charlie, I really do... more than anything... in fact... I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him." Charlie and Angel squealed and jumped up and down.

"That's all I needed to hear, let's do this!" Charlie declared.

You took a few minutes to get dressed, and soon you were off to see Lucifer again. Cynthhhhia eyed you a little as you left, wondering what you were doing with the most famous porn star in the Pride Ring and the Princess of Hell. She rolled her eyes and went back to chatting it up with her next client out it the lobby, it was probably nothing of substance, and she already had big enough fish to fry to keep her focused on herself. Although, she did briefly amuse herself with the idea of seducing the Princess' father, oh how wonderful a dream that would be, but she knew better than to put more thought into that. Why would the King of Hell ever need a prostitute? She laughed to herself.

You, on the other hand, were so full of fear and excitement at the idea of seeing actually Lucifer again, it felt like a dream and you were scared to wake up. But if Charlie and Angel's reaction was any indication of anything, maybe Brooklyn had been right after all.

______________________________________________________________

Thank you for putting up with torment! I made sure to get through this one quickier so that there was a return of hope. Next chapter they will finally talk in out, and then... a certain someone may see justice 😈

As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)

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wrongplacerighttime · 3 months

Text

agent!harry x agent!fmc

the one where grace wants to forget and harry doesn’t. then she disappears. // little bunny part 5

well. here we are 🥺 the last part 🥺 brb i’m actually gonna cry about it.

little bunny masterlist

wc: 6.8k

tw: kidnapping, talks of murder, hurt/comfort trope, size kink, breeding kink (think that’s all) (as always let me know if i missed any)

bitter winds

It’s been the loneliest week of Grace’s life, she thinks. She’s been avoiding Harry like the plague, and he hasn’t necessarily been trying to see her, either. She knows she messed up, knows she broke the unspoken rule they seemed to have about not expressing feelings. It was supposed to be just sex.

They got back from Florida a few days ago, thankfully it was on Thursday and Aaron gave them Friday to rest. The weekend didn’t bring any new cases, so they didn’t speak. Didn’t have to be around each other

Harry had hovered over her name on his screen a time or two over the weekend (more like seven), and he just couldn’t bring himself to message or call. He stared at her name until the letters blurred together and it became illegible. He wanted to talk to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the plunge. He was afraid of his feelings, afraid of losing her because he didn’t know how to love her the way she deserved. She deserved someone good for her, and that wasn’t him…didn’t think it could ever be him. And he feels guilty—guilty that he’s taking something from her that he thinks he could never return.

Grace just doesn’t check her phone anyway, she hides under the covers and wishes it away. The feelings, the words she’d spoken…all of it. She replays his confusion on the other end of the phone, the way he said her name hesitantly, like he was warning her, at the words she had let slip. Words that were never intended to be spoken aloud. This humiliation feels like she’s stabbed herself in the chest, and his response was the twist of the knife.

——

Monday comes and Grace has to quite literally drag herself out of bed when her alarm blares through the tranquility of her room. She was half tempted to just not show up, but that wasn’t an option because she went AWOL during the last case after she confessed her love to Harry. She was angry at herself…at him. She knew it was misplaced. She had no reason to be in a sour mood, but she couldn’t help but just feel done. Her heart feels heavy in her chest, like it was full of concrete.

At the office, they keep their distance. She felt the pang in her heart when she heard his familiar footsteps walking through the door, and it took every fiber of effort to not look at him. She typed away on her keyboard, his eyes flitting to her once. When she didn’t so much as glance his way, he kept walking.

The tension was sharp, heavy. Their coworkers whispered to each other when they thought no one was listening, betting on which one would break first, sharing theories about what happened. As far as they were concerned the pair were innately opposite, but their banter kept the office light and airy. The cloud cover outside mirrored what it felt like in the office now. Cold and bitter and gloomy. Aarons door opening causes them all to look up. He looks around, raising a brow but choosing to ignore the uneasiness in the atmosphere.

“We have a case.”

——

Grace had a feeling of dread settled in her stomach the moment they landed in Caddo County, Oklahoma. It was January, it wasn’t terribly hot yet and it wasn’t tornado season, but something just felt off. She chalked it up to it being because of the case, just nervous. They made a home in the small police station, working with them to set up an area in the conference room and get to work. There have been a couple of murders in the small village of Fort Seminole. Small was an understatement. The population was less than 600 and the citizens were terrified that something like this was happening to their community. They thought it was the same person but called in the help of the FBI because they found a body dumped just three hours outside of Oklahoma in an even smaller town in Texas…and if it crossed state lines, it was a federal case anyway.

Aaron had made sure Grace and Harry were inevitably stuck working the geographical profile together, which means they would have to speak eventually. Somehow he had known that they had something they needed to work out, and he was hoping this would give them an excuse to do it.

The only sound in the conference room was the rustling of papers, cardstock and push pins. Grace had her back turned to Harry, shaking the box of pins, thinking to herself as she labeled the map. Red pins are for crime scenes and green are for the victims’ residence. She could feel his eyes on her, her heart felt like it was going a mile a minute and would beat out of her chest any second.

“Grace.” Her name coming from his lips is quiet, almost a whisper, and he’s tiptoeing around eggshells. She speaks before he can add anything else.

“Harry, listen. We don’t have to talk about it. We can just…go back to how things were before. Forget any of it ever happened, okay?” Her voice shakes, and he’s taken off guard by her statement.

“I don’t want to forget it, Grace.” His voice is soft, a gentleness she’s not used to hearing from him. It takes her by surprise. She bites the inside of her cheek, willing the stinging in the corners of her eyes to go away before she makes a fool of herself again.

“I think it’s better if we do.” She manages to say, swallowing the lump in her throat before turning back to the map so he can’t see her blinking the tears away. And he doesn’t know where this is coming from, because he meant what he said—he didn’t want to forget. He hears a sniffle coming from across the room and he watches her reach up to swipe a finger under the corner of her eye. All he wants to do is go to her, kiss her and tell her it’ll all be okay. That he feels the same.

He stays where he’s at, because if she wants to forget, he’ll try his best to forget, too.

——

Two days pass with no other incidents. They believe the suspect has likely caught wind of them being in town and has decided to lay low. They have alerts set up to send them any info on any case that is remotely similar to theirs within a 75 mile radius. Nothing, or anywhere, could be ruled out at this point. The radio never comes on, they never get any calls.

Grace chews on the end of her pen while reading over a report of the last victim. It just didn’t seem right. It felt like they were missing something. He was a single white male with no family in the area. His home had been left abandoned, frozen in time in the wake of his murder. The crime scene has long been cleaned but she believes she could still find something. She looks around, everyone else busy with their respective tasks and she decides she’ll just go alone.

“I’m going to the Jefferson house. See if we missed anything,” She mumbles to Aaron and he hums nodding once without looking up from the paper in front of him. She looks around, spotting Harry deep in conversation with a deputy and a pang stabs her heart. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, turning and walking out the double doors into the Oklahoman sunset.

The drive to the house was quick, easy to find. It was well put together, no mess or signs of a struggle inside due to the clean up crew already having gotten the place back in order. Dust rings rest on furniture, the only thing left of broken decor. The only indication a crime had happened here was the remnants of the bright yellow tape wound around the pillars of the front porch. Grace walks around, looking at the signs of someone’s livelihood, a life taken before it ever really got to begin, and she feels a twinge of guilt, grief for someone she didn’t even know. There were photos hung on the wall—pictures of the victim and their friends, pictures of their relatives with smiles so wide it was almost contagious. She shakes her head once, trying to shake away the thoughts and clear her mind.

She walks through, searching for anything that might stick out. She knew it would be almost impossible, but she was just hoping, praying, for something to catch her eye. She makes her way into the bathroom, taking in her surroundings and she spots a single drop of red on the white tile. When she bends down, she catches a glimpse of a blood soaked t-shirt in the bottom of the dirty laundry basket.

She stands, but before she can take another step, she feels a prick on her neck.

Then she blacks out.

——

When Grace comes to, her vision is blurry and her head is pounding. Her mouth feels drier than the Sahara and she tries to stand, but her legs are tied to the chair she’s sitting on, pulling on her hands she finds them bound behind her back. Her heart begins to race and her breathing becomes erratic.

“Pause. Breathe. In. Out.” She tells herself, blinking to clear the cloudiness from her dry eyes. She assesses the situation once her brain has calmed down enough to form a coherent thought. The room is dimly lit with one singular light bulb hanging over her head, the chair she’s sitting in is wooden and uncomfortable, rubbing the bare skin of her arms raw. Her hands feel like they’re bound with rope and she tries to pinpoint the nearest exit.

She can’t.

She turns the chair as much as she can without making herself topple over and she sees a set of stairs.

“Okay. I’m in a basement.” She says to herself, looking for anything she can maybe rub the rope against to loosen it or cut it. Then she hears a door opening followed by footsteps. She tries to calm her breathing and slow her heart rate. “Breathe. You’re trained for situations like this.”

A tall, burly man comes to stand in front of her. Her eyes flare with malice as he looks down at her, a scruffy beard hiding most of his lower half and a Stetson perched on the top of his head. His hair is long and greasy underneath, looking like it hadn’t been washed in days or even weeks.

He doesn’t say a word, just looks her over once from under the brim that hiding his features from her before snapping a singular picture of her with the polaroid camera she didn’t notice he’d carried in with him. The flash is blinding and leaves her vision spotty, forcing her eyes to squeeze shut. Without another word, he walks around her, back up the stairs and the door slams shut. She hears a lock twist and she’s alone again.

——

The next morning, Harry sits up in the uncomfortable motel bed, feeling like he slept on a plank of wood, and stretches his arms above his head. He’s already decided he’s going to try to talk to Grace today and apologize for being so distant. He wants to make it work, truly. He doesn’t want her to be afraid of loving him. She had left the police station around 6 PM yesterday and he didn’t see her before she came back to the motel so he decided to just leave her be when he rolled into the parking lot around 10:00. The light was off, as far as he could tell and he assumed she had been in bed already. She was always tired when they traveled outside of their own city, he had learned. She gave the excuse that it was due to not being in her own bed but he knew she was always overthinking and anxious about the cases they worked, getting too close to the families or friends of the victims and making her heart ache for them. That’s what made her a good agent, her heart was really in it to solve the case. It also sometimes got her in trouble.

He dresses for the day, brushing his teeth and looking in the mirror once before walking out the door of his room. He walks down the sidewalk of the dingy little motel, down to room 5, the one Grace would be in. He takes a deep breath, and he knocks. He waits.

Nothing.

He knocks again, “maybe she didn’t hear me?” He thinks. He waits and listens, no rustling behind the door. No footsteps drawing closer. He peeks through the window and he can just barely make out the shape of the bed that was still made through the crack in the curtains, and he thought it was unusual. Grace wasn’t the “make your bed every morning” type.

He makes his way to the station, looking around the room for her. He sees everyone except her. He starts to panic, and the room feels small and he can’t breathe.

“Styles. What’s wrong?” Aaron asks, watching Harry’s head swivel erratic like he was looking for something.

“Where’s Grace?” His words run together, tongue feeling thick in his mouth and dread forming a pit in his stomach.

“She’s probably still at the motel, I tried to call her but she didn’t answer.”

“She’s not there. The bed’s still made like she never even went in the room.” He runs a hand through his hair, heart pounding in his chest so hard he can hear it in his ears. “She’s not here and she’s not there. She’s gone. She’s missing.”

“Styles I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, let’s not jump to conclusions just yet.” Aaron tried to assure but he can’t help but feel a little scared also. He tries to call Grace again but it goes straight to voicemail. Before he can say anything, a deputy walks up to them holding an envelope. He hands it to Harry without a word, and Harry doesn’t look twice at the person handing it to him. He snatches it, flipping it over. Agent Styles is scrawled across the front. He slides his finger through the seal to open it, finding the back of a polaroid facing outwards. The same signature of the person they’re looking for. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before flipping it over.

It’s Grace.

Tied to a chair and peering up at the person taking the photo of her. She looks physically unharmed, and seeing her in this position breaks his fucking heart. He turns it around, shoving it in Aaron’s face.

“This logical enough for you?” He sneers before throwing it at him in a fit of rage, he doesn’t stay to watch it flutter to the floor as he turns towards the door, storming out to the sidewalk.

“Fuck!” He yells over and over, slapping his hands against the brick of the building. He leans his head against the rough wall, feeling angry and scared tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

And the only thing running through his brain is that he should’ve told her he loved her, too.

——

After a brief walk around the block to calm his brain, he walks back into the station where the energy is buzzing and nervous. He doesn’t know where to even start, like his mind has short circuited and all the knowledge he possesses about being an agent is just gone. Lost. He sees her photo up on the board labeled “missing” underneath and he almost crumbles then. He didn’t want her to be chalked up as just another person. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that the rest of the team wouldn’t allow it to be that way, he was just so fucking nervous. He spots Aaron leaned over the table looking at a map of the area and he makes a beeline for him, dodging around busy bodies in the room.

“Aaron, we have to find her. We have to.” His voice is shaky and he feels like a small puppy standing under its owner at the gaze of his boss. Aaron’s expression softens and he gives Harry an apologetic look.

“We will, Harry.” Harry nods. “I need your head clear. Are you able to work the case? If you’re not, I need you to stand down. I need your word.”

“Yes. My head is clear. I just want her back.” He nods, his voice sounding so small in the chatter around them. Aaron gives him a knowing look, nodding once back to him.

“She told me yesterday she was going to the Jefferson house. She wanted to see if they missed anything after the scene got cleaned up. She thought something was missing from the case.” He pauses, looking at Harry who’s staring blankly at the map in front of them. “I sent Jenna and Kelly to the house while you were out. They should be arriving any moment now.”

The waiting was the worst part.

Finally, the phone rang and they confirmed that the Jefferson house is where Grace was last seen. The car she took was left in the driveway unlocked with her phone on the driver's seat, along with her badge and gun. They couldn’t track her, and whoever it was knew that was the first thing they would try to do.

Back to square one.

——

Grace doesn’t know how long she’s been down here. Her mouth is still dry from whatever drug was injected into her and she could feel the numbness tingling in her fingertips from the position of her arms. The rope had rubbed her wrists raw and if she shifted it stung, making her wince in pain. She knows the man who took her is obviously wanting her to die of “natural” causes, or else he would’ve fed her something by now.

She thinks about the team. Have they figured out she’s been taken and not just disappeared on her own accord? She’s had time to sit with her thoughts, thoughts of Harry fill her mind. Will she see him again? Before long she’ll be dehydrated. She hasn’t had anything to drink, and all he’s done is take a picture of her and leave. He hasn’t been down here again. Even then he didn’t say anything. She’s pretty sure he just wants to leave her here to rot.

She tries to think of how to get herself out. She thinks of the face she saw and what features she could make out in the low lighting and she feels like it almost looks familiar to her. The eyes peeking under the black Stetson play over and over in her head, and then she hears the door opening again for the first time since he took the photo of her. She hears his footsteps moving closer to her. No Stetson, in uniform. And when he steps in front of her, she knows then.

“It’s you.” She sneers.

——

At the station, they all read over every single thread of evidence they have, but nothing is standing out. Grace always knew what to look for, able to connect the dots faster than any of them. Kelly had fallen asleep at the desk she had made a home in, refusing to leave until something had stuck out to her. Aaron was still staring at the map, and Harry was pacing, file in hand. Grace had said it felt like they were missing something before she left and he was determined to figure it out. It was her life on the line now.

He was reading a sentence when it stuck out to him.

The woman was never physically harmed, and the man was stabbed multiple times after being tortured, cuts on his back like he was beaten with a belt. Both had a polaroid picture on their back when they died, the man left in his home with one and the woman whose body was dumped across state lines had one too. They knew this, they thought it was some kind of twisted signature.

They didn’t account for both of them having a finger cut off.

Which makes this case very similar to one they worked in Arkansas a few years ago, but they never caught the guy. They profiled the man to have been missing a finger himself, the product of very traumatic abuse in childhood. They found both parents dead, his father with belt marks on his back and beaten and stabbed. The mom was left physically unharmed.

And they found his sister tied to a chair in the basement, body still warm. Harry had pulled her restraints off and performed life saving measures. They got her back, her heart had stopped just before they found her. Once she was well in the hospital they questioned her. She told them it was her brother Jack Henderson, and they searched everywhere for him. It seemed as though he had gone on the lam, probably crossing the border and the case had been left open until they did. He was on the most wanted list.

And he had been here.

In this station.

“Aaron. It’s Jack Henderson.” Harry says without looking up, staring at the file with wide eyes. Aaron looks at him quizzically. “We just thought this guy took the fingers as souvenirs and left the polaroids as some twisted game, right? It’s him. Same MO, brutally murdered the male, female was essentially physically unharmed. Didn’t we take a polaroid from his house as evidence? We found a bunch of pictures of his tortured father, and one of his sister strapped to that chair in their basement. He’s doing this to get our attention. Trying to prove that he will get away a second time.”

“He didn’t cut off the same fingers as his though? How can you be sure?”

“He’s the one who handed me the envelope with Grace’s picture. It didn’t stick out to me until I read that the woman’s first finger had been cut off and had disappeared. He’s trying to lead us off his trail because he’s not doing it exactly the same, he’s doing just enough to get our attention.” He pauses. “When the deputy brought me the envelope, it was addressed as Agent Styles. Not Mr., not Harry. Agent. No one in this town that we’ve talked to has addressed me as agent, how would the unsub know my name unless he already knew me.” Aaron nods, taking in his theory and thinking that this is the closest thing they have to making sense.

“Aaron. He’s doing this to get back at me, for saving his sister. His sister is in WITSEC. He can’t find her to finish the job…he’s going to take Grace from me.” His voice broke on the last part, and he almost fell to the floor, his knees growing weak. He knows how long a person can last without food or water, her organs will start to shut down after three days, that’s the average. It’s been almost that.

They waste no time pulling up the file on Jack Henderson. The show his picture to every deputy before someone recognizes him. He goes by an alias, Greg Price and he doesn’t look like the same guy he used to. The only reason one had recognized him was because he had seen an old picture in Greg’s house of him and his mother. No one batted an eye when he walked in the building dressed as a deputy because they were all paying attention to their own things, and the profilers expected this to be the last place he would’ve been.

Jack was new(ish) to town. In a village of not even 600 people, people who’d grown and lived their entire lives here, he’d never not be the new guy. He showed up with a moving truck and bought a house just outside of town. He’d faked his identity, his qualifications, and ended up being hired as a deputy not long after he moved here. They’d had his address, jumping into vehicles as the sheriff escorted them down the winding roads with lights and sirens.

They whipped into the yard, Harry not wasting any time by throwing the door open and jumping out before the car was even shifted into park. He draws his weapon, kicking open the door left cracked. The house is eerily quiet as he moves through the rooms, taking the role of point and clearing them with Aaron following his direction. They come to a door that’s locked with a chain lock and deadbolt.

Harry quickly turns the lock, undoing the chain and hesitantly makes his way down the stairs. He looks right, then left and there she is. Grace. All thoughts clear his brain besides any that have to do with her. He runs the short distance, dropping to his knees and taking her face between his hands, lifting her head as it lulls to the side.

“Grace. Wake up, baby.” He lightly taps her cheek and her eyes flutter behind her closed lids. He reaches behind her, untying the knot keeping her hands bound and they fall to her side. She’s weak, having passed out a short time before they got there. He checks her pulse, slow but steady enough to not cause concern and he blows out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

He unties her legs with one hand, taking her and carrying her up the stairs and to the medic on the scene. He stays with her as they hook her to an IV, poking her several times before they are able to find a vein not affected by the dehydration. They informed him where they were taking her but he insisted on riding with her, wanting to be there if she woke up and didn’t know where she was. He holds her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles and willing her to open her eyes and just look at him so he could talk to her. He runs his fingers over the angry red marks left on her wrists and he curses himself for not being there sooner.

Things pass in a blur after that, the adrenaline of the past few wearing off and exhaustion taking over his body. He stays with her until they clear her to leave, and she doesn’t talk. Doesn’t say a word, not for a few hours at least.

“I’m sorry.” He hears her whisper finally, looking out the window. “I should’ve taken someone with me.”

“It’s not your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.” He reassures her, and she nods once, and that’s all she says.

The morning hours creep into the sky, Aaron comes to get them, taking them back to the motel. Harry walks Grace to her room, unlocking and opening the door for her.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks, brushing her hair behind her ear and she shakes her head as she leans into his touch. He wanted to say the words, seeing the sadness and pain in her eyes all he wanted to do was say them. He swallows them down.

“No. I’ll be okay. I just need a shower, and sleep. Still tired.” He nods, hesitating to leave her, not wanting to take his eyes off her ever again. But he lets her be alone, trudging back to his own room and collapsing into the bed.

She sits in the shower after scrubbing her entire body raw, hugging her knees to her chest and letting the water run over her until it’s freezing and she’s shivering and she forced herself to get up. She dresses, going to the bed and pulling the covers up to her chin, daylight filtering through the window.

She doesn’t sleep.

——

Later that night, when they’re back in D.C, Harry takes her hand and leads her into her apartment. It’s the first time he’s been here and it’s just so…her. She hasn’t said much, and he doesn’t expect her to. Her mind is still reeling from the traumatic events of the past few days.

“Do you want to eat or anything?” He asks, his voice quiet and timid. She shakes her head, having no appetite. She swore to Aaron on the jet that she would never step foot in the state of Oklahoma ever again, and he told her she wouldn’t have to. He would make sure of it. They ended up finding Jack heading West out of the state, likely back towards Mexico. She’s not looking forward to the trial she’ll inevitably have to sit through and recount the experience.

“Okay.” He nods, looking around, shoving his hands in his pockets as he faces her. One arm crossed over her chest and she looks at the floor, tears brimming her lashline and she tried to blink them away, feeling like her emotions are a rollercoaster she can’t get off of.

“Just wanna go to bed, I think.” She mumbles. He nods, moving to walk around her and leave but she stops him.

“Wait.” She grabs his arm, looking up at him with pain in her eyes and he almost crumbles right then. “Don’t go. Please. I don’t want to be alone right now. Will you stay?” And he would, a million times over just for her. He’d do anything for her.

“Yes, baby. Of course. Just didn’t know if you’d want me here.”

“Always want you with me.” She looks towards the floor again, her voice sounding so small and he moves closer, placing his hands on either side of her face and forcing her to look up at him.

“I know, sweet girl. Always want you with me, too. Never gonna let you out of my sight again, okay?” He looks at her, his eyes flitting between hers and she nods, her bottom lip quivering as he pulls her into his chest and wraps his arms around her. She fists his shirt and he kisses the top of her head ever so gently, the sweet smell of her hair filling his senses and she’s all he knows. All he ever wants to know. “Let’s go to bed.”

She leads him down the small hallway to her room, but he leads her to her bed and makes her sit on the edge. He goes into her closet and picks out something for her to wear to bed, something comfortable and he kneels in front of her, untying the laces of her boots and pulling them off of her. Taking her hands in his, he brings her wrists to his mouth and kisses over the marks left on them, gently so as to not irritate them further. He runs his hands from her calves up to her thighs, flicking the button undone and she shifts her hips as he pulls the denim from her legs. Leaning in, he peppers small kisses right above her knees and savors the feeling of her skin against his lips. She watches him below her, a heat swirling just below her navel and she forces her mind away from those thoughts. He reaches up, lifting the hem of her shirt as she raises her arms, discarding the t-shirt on the floor with her jeans. He swallows when he notices her chest is bare, her nipples hardening when the cool air hits her skin and she sucks in a breath. His hands run up her thighs and grip her hips, pulling her body closer to him. Grace tangles her hands in his hair at the nape of his neck like she knows he likes,dipping down and brushing her nose against his. He smiles, looking over her features with admiration in his eyes. Her freckles spanning over her cheeks, the pink of her lips that he loves to kiss, her eyes so blue he could swim in them. She nudges him again, finally touching her lips to his.

He kisses her gently, not wanting to lead her into anything she might not want to do. She pushes her lips against his, and he sucks in a breath through his nose as she arches her back. Her chest presses against him and his hands sprawl across her back, holding her as close as he can get her. He sighs against her lips, moving to crawl over top of her and slotting his knee between her thighs without breaking their kiss. She lays back, his arms caging around her head as his muscles flex and extend to bear his weight. Their tongues dance together now, and she whines into his mouth causing him to pull away just enough to look at her.

“Grace.” He says her name breathlessly, his brows furrowing together slightly. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby. Just got you back. We don’t have to do this.” She shakes her head, her chin jutting upwards and pushing her body into his again.

“You won’t. Promise. Just need you. Missed you so much, Harry.” She whispers, but she can still see the uncertainty in his eyes. “Please. Help me forget, just want to forget about it for a while.” Her voice wavers slightly and he nods once. She grinds against his leg and her eyes flutter closed as a jolt of pleasure runs down her spine, and how can he resist when she just looks so pretty underneath him like this? He shifts his weight to one arm, his fingers dancing down her skin so delicately. He feels the way her stomach flexes under his fingertips, sensitive and wanting to push against him more. He grips her hip, fingertips dimpling the skin underneath and she wraps her legs around his waist. He grinds against her, creating friction between them as she moans into his mouth.

“Fuck, Grace. You get me so worked up. Wanna fuck you, but just wanna take care of you.”

“Please, Har. Please. Fuck me.” She begs and he smirks at her eagerness, dropping his head to her shoulder and sinking his teeth into the skin of her collarbone. Her hips rut against him and she cries out, the sensation taking her off guard before he soothes with his tongue and kisses so gently. He pushes himself up onto his knees, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Grace watches him through hazy eyes and she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“So pretty.” He mumbles from above her, pulling the belt from the loops and she wants to squeeze her thighs together but his body between them blocks her from doing so. He pushes the both his jeans and briefs down in one go, kicking them from his legs as he wraps his own hand around the base of his hard cock and tugging a few times before he leans back over her. She can feel the tip of him nudging at her hole through the material of her underwear and she reaches between their bodies. She wraps her own hand around him, his head dropping to her chest and he swears under his breath.

“Please.” She whines, begging him for anything he’ll give her. Truthfully, he’s just so caught up in having her back that he wants to just savor the moment, take his time with her. Something he doesn't get to do often. He moves the material of her underwear to the side, dragging a finger through her arousal and collecting it there. He brings it up, taking it into his mouth and wrapping his lips around it, tasting her.

“Taste so sweet, bunny. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He whispers in her ear and she swears she can feel herself melting into the mattress. Unable to wait any longer, he pushes her panties down her thighs and she kicks them off. Harry drags the tip of his cock through her folds once before pushing against her weepy hole. He’s so used to just pounding into her, and he likes the change of pace. Likes watching her squirm while she waits, trying to buck into him and get more of him inside her.

“Let me go slow, Grace. Just got you back. Let me take my time with you.” She nods slowly and he smiles down at her. “That’s my girl.” He feels her clenching around almost nothing and he throws his head back, eyes fluttering closed as he pushes ever so slowly into her. So tight he’s seeing stars. Her jaw goes slack and all she can do is take it, insatiable for the feeling of him stretching her and filling her.

“So fucking tight, bunny. Gonna squeeze the life out of me.” He grumbles. He grabs her hips again, squeezing and he lifts her so slightly to adjust the angle. He pushes all the way in, dropping his gaze and watching the way he disappears inside her. He could almost cum right then.

“Fuck, barely fits doesn’t it? Taking me so fucking good, sweet girl. Look at you.” He croons, his words pushing through the pleasure buzzing around her brain and she wiggles her hips, bucking up into him before he forces them back down. He pulls out at a torturous pace, her arousal coating him and sending his brain haywire.

“Kiss me.” She breathes out, and he does. He pushes back into her, leaning over her and forcefully pressing his lips to hers. They’re a mix of pants and moans as he sets his pace, comfortable and slow, allowing her to feel every inch of him. The stretch feels like a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, and every time his hips meet hers she can feel him so fucking deep inside her she could cry. “So deep Har, feels so fucking good.” Her back arches off the bed and he kisses the valley between her breasts as she fists the sheets beneath them.

“Yeah? Feel me all the way in your belly?” He feels a haze settling over his mind and he takes her hand, bringing it between their bodies and resting her palm just below her navel with his hand over hers. He presses her hand down slightly, and as he drives into her again and again she feels tears brimming her lash line at the sensation, a smirk painted on his face. “Feel that? Know you do. Only I can do this, right bunny? I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.” He mumbles into her ear and she nods wordlessly, unable to form a coherent sentence. “There you go, baby. Feel so fucking good around my cock.”

“More.” She gasps and he obliges, picking up his pace slightly and he hits just the right spot every time. She knows it’s coming, dangling by fingertips on the edge of that blissful feeling as she feels the spool begin to unravel.

“Gonna get you all full of me, sweet girl. Let me give you my babies, yeah? Give you everything, be such a good mama.” He grits out through his teeth clenched together and she feels dizzy, his words penetrating a spot in her brain she didn’t know existed until him.

“Fuck, Harry.” She whines and he smiles against the curve of her neck, knowing she loves when he talks to her like this.

“Yeah? Like the thought of that? Look so fucking cute with your belly all swollen ‘cause of me. Know you would.” He mumbles and he’s picturing it, picturing it all in his brain and trying to hold onto his release as long as he can. His hips rock into her and she’s still got her hand on her belly and he dips down, attaching his lips around one of her hardened peaks on her breast and her body jolts, her pussy squeezing around him. He knows she’s close. He rolls her nipple between his teeth, flicking with his tongue and he feels her fluttering around him.

“Please Har. Need it so bad. Please cum in me, please.” Her words are jumbled and falling from her lips with ease.

“Never wanna be without you, sweet girl. Love you so fucking much.” He’s a mess of moans and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, determined to never let her question his intentions ever again, and it sends her over, eyes squeezing together so tightly she sees stars. The thread unravels and she throws her arms around his neck, holding him close to her. Her legs wrap around his hips and he thrusts into her one more time before he’s filling her to the hilt, spilling his warmth into her. And it’s so warm, making her head feel fuzzy.

They lay there, legs still wrapped around his hips, sweaty skin sticking together. He pulls back and a lazy grin spreads across her face when his eyes meet hers. She brings her hand up, poking a finger to his nose and he smiles wide at her, a sparkle dancing in his eye and just being in awe of her beauty…her flushed cheeks, her wet lashes, her swollen lips from kisses, her little baby hairs sticking to her temple with sweat. And they stay there, holding each other, saying I love you through light touches and longing gazes, without using any words.

But they don’t need to.

They just know.

taglist: @indierockgirrl @hermionelove @storyschanging @hannah9921

divider by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

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gretagerwigsmuse · 1 year

Text

i don’t know, blame the air force?

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw feels his girlfriend’s wrath after she gets her year end bonus and uncle sam takes a pretty penny out of it

a/n: listen….this is very self indulgent and that’s all i’m going to say. i literally wrote it this afternoon after…well i got fucked by the government in the form of taxes on my bonus. also yeah she’s kind of a brat in this one, but i think it’s a little deserved. rated t for language and suggestive comments 1.2k

It wasn’t often that you beat Bradley home from work, but sometimes on Fridays you would sneak out of the office at lunch and work the rest of the day from home. It typically put you in a good mood and gave you the opportunity to run a quick load of laundry or get started on an - admittedly - rudimentary dinner. Sometimes you’d even go for a dip in your building’s skyline pool.

But that afternoon, you were seething. Properly seething. And no amount of stress cleaning or tanning was going to make you feel any better. Maybe you just needed Bradley to fuck you six ways to Sunday later? Surely the serotonin from a couple orgasms could soothe this particular anger brewing inside of you.

As per every October, you had gotten your year end bonus with your paycheck earlier that day, which always inspired equal amounts of giddiness and angst within you.

The giddiness, of course, because who doesn’t love extra money? It was like found money twice a year. Sure, you worked extra hard for it, many late nights at the office, client site visits, and presentations over the last four years could attest to that. You were up in the air over whether you should add it to your brokerage account or splurge on something? Because again - you worked for it.

But then there was the angst.

The angst because you inevitably lost half of it to taxes. And this angst appeared like clockwork, twice a year, every year, for the last six years you’d been working at PwC. You knew this - it was inevitable.

Except, earlier that morning, you’d been at your desk reading the WSJ with your coffee and had seen a headline. A stupid, annoying headline that had made you purse your lips, realization dawning as you rushed to check your pay stub on workday.

Pentagon Refocuses Spending on Weapons to Deter China

As you read further, you saw that as part of the FY24 budget, the Pentagon was increasing the $30.6B defense budget a further 12% with a focus on missiles, rockets, and - yes - airplanes, specifically for the Air Force.

Uncle Sam was taking 35% of taxes out of your bonus for that? Fuck that.

So, when Bradley came by your apartment later that afternoon, freshly showered after a quick trip to the gym after work, you were steaming. And though it was not Bradley’s fault - not in the slightest - seeing him in that stupid(ly tight), grey, US Navy t-shirt only further contributed to your sour mood.

“Hey!” he called out, letting himself in with his key. You turned your head towards him and hummed, letting out a gruff hi. He toed off his sneakers and left them by the door before coming over to where you were laying on the couch, doom scrolling through Instagram, and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

He frowned at your tepid response and you felt like a absolute bitch for a moment. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

You briefly glanced at Bradley and then went back to staring - glaring - at your phone. “I’m just in a mood - tired.”

You could see him doing the mental math, trying to figure out if you were on your period, but that wasn’t until next week. “S’okay. We can just hang out and have an early -”

“- Crash any planes today?” the words slipped out before you could think better of it. Before he could even respond, you cut Bradley off. “What’s it matter anyway? They’ll just buy you new ones? Fuck the kids, I mean, they don’t need to eat school lunch? And the Postal Service can cut off Saturday delivery? Hmmmm maybe we should cut Social Security even more? Our infrastructure doesn’t need to be fixed, let’s just let our bridges and roads crumble! Fucking taxes bullshit.”

“Uhhh...”

You got up in a huff and started pacing, getting more and more worked up. “It’s not that I mind paying taxes - well, that’s not totally true. But like? Actually put them towards something that’s going to help people? Not just stupid rockets and missiles and fucking -”

“- Did you get your tax refund or something?”

Bradley was standing next to you, trying to put his hands on your shoulders in what would have been a calming motion had you not been acting completely crazy over eleven thousand dollars.

“It’s October?” you snapped.

“I don’t know?” Bradley shrugged his shoulders, getting a little worked up himself. “Rich people are weird? And your dad seems like he’d know how - nevermind.” You rolled your eyes. “What happened?”

Your shoulders sagged. Fuck, this wasn’t Bradley’s fault. It was that piece of shit House Majority Leader’s, who was so far up Lockheed Martin’s ass he could see -

“I got my year end bonus check today…” you grumbled.

Like you figured, a huge smile lit up Bradley’s face. “That’s amazing - or not?” he backtracked.

“I lost like 35% of it to taxes.”

“Ahhh.”

“And I saw this article in the Journal this morning about the new Pentagon budget and how they’re purchasing these new planes for the Air Force and it just - it’s dumb but it made me mad because I just wish my taxes went to the things that will actually benefit the average American?”

Bradley tucked your hair behind your ear and clucked your chin. “That’s a lot to put on your shoulders, kid…”

“Do you think I’m acting like a brat?” You knew you were, you were just curious if Bradley would say the same thing.

He made a face. “Well,” the word dragged out, “maybe a little…” You hung your head and leaned against his chest. “But it’s kind of valid, I’d be pretty pissed losing all that out to the Air Force, too. But the Navy’s different. They don’t just put anyone in the cockpit -”

“- Oh, really?” You peered up at him. “And how many planes have you crashed, Bradley?”

He pursed his lips. “Like on purpose or -”

You threw your hands up and groaned, eventually making your way over to your bar cart. “- Like on purpose he says! Bradley!”

There wasn’t any ice in the ice bucket, but you didn’t care. You needed something. Anything to take the edge off. You were too annoyed, too fussy - too bratty.

As you poured yourself - and Bradley - a drink, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

“Sweetheart,” he cooed in your ear, “I promise you, I have only crashed three planes on purpose.”

Oh how you wanted to laugh. You leaned back against Bradley’s chest, fully ensconced in the smell of his soap and aftershave. “Hmmm, that’s $195M down the drain. Could’ve fed a lot of kids in Kern County with that money, repaved a lot of roads, too…”

He grabbed the drink you had poured for yourself and took a sip, hissing at the burn of the tequila. “I don’t know about the kids, but I can make it up to you.”

The glass was placed back on the bar cart with a clink and Bradley placed his right hand on your hip, while the left slipped underneath the waistband of your skirt and eventually your underwear. Your whole body sagged against him and you hated how keen you were for this - for him. Apparently you really had just needed to get fucked.

“Such a pretty girl…even if you are a bit of a brat sometimes,” he finished, nipping at your ear. “Hey, kid?” You hummed. “You know if I was an astronaut I would cost the US government even more money, you still sure you want me to go down that route?”

“Shut up and fuck me, rocketman.”

“Can do, hell I’ll even buy you dinner.”

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this was so random so i hope people actually like it??? idk if no one does i never wrote it??

small taglist: @howdysebby (happy early birthday!) @sometimesanalice (thanks for the eyes alexa!) @notroosterbradshaw @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @rae-gar-targaryen @jupitercomet @sunderlust @softspiderling @seasonsbloom @heartsofminds @cloudycluster

#bradley and smart aleck #bradley bradshaw x reader

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yangbbokari · 8 months

Text

Skz making a bet on you Hyung line pt.2

Pairing: OT8 SKZ x f!Reader

Genre, AU: angst ofc, lovers to exes!AU

Warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, many mentions of insecurities. I think that abt it

Summary: you happened to learn one day that the never really loved you and only made a bet with the other members to see if you would fall in love with them

A.N: Not proof read at all and this is the hyung line pt.2 to the previous one. Maknae Line pt.2 is coming soon

Parts: Hyung Line Pt.1 Maknae Line

BANG CHAN He didn't even notice you were gone until his call ended. Going around the house, he called your name multiple times. When he got no reply, he assumed you went on a grocery trip. So, he took his time to shower, get dressed and get ready for bed. Before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep.

Chan hated waking up cold. You weren't there beside him. He'd gotten used to always holding you through out these 7 years. He grabbed his phone off the night stand and checked the time. It was already 6:57 in the morning. Not hearing from you at all left him with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

So he immediately dialed your number. It rang once. Then twice. Then three times. You never let it ring more than two times so why weren't you answering? Finally, it went to voicemail. He called a couple more times just for all of them to go to voicemail. He started panicking. It was unusual of you to not pick up his calls unless something went wrong. One more time, just calling you one more time to make sure.

You woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing uncontrollably. Rubbing your droopy eyes, you took your phone and answered it. “Hello?” You groggily said.

“Y-y/n? Where are you? Why weren’t you picking up my calls!? Hello? Y/n?”

The moment you hear his voice, the sleepiness left your body. You stayed silent because you were sure that you’d burst into anger and most likely tears if you tried to talk to him.

“Y/n? Why aren’t you answering me? I-I-I’m worried… Please just say something. You’re scaring me…”

You sat up in bed, holding the phone close to your ear. After clearing your throat you finally answered him.

“What do you want?” You were right. You were a little too irritated the moment you started talking to him.

“What do I want…? What do you mean!? I’m worried sick right now because you weren’t picking up my calls and you didn’t even come home last night. You could’ve at least texted me something, y/n. Don’t just leave me guessing of all the possibilities that could’ve happened to you!” He was practically yelling into the phone at this point and it only made you angrier.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not being the toy who sees you as their protector and is so incredibly annoying that you can’t say it to her and instead to your fucking friends!”

Chan was speechless for a few minutes before speaking up again. “What..?” He said almost breathlessly.

“I heard that phone call you were on.” You began sniffling and the tears began to fall. “You said that you had fun… fun playing with my feelings and making me believe that you were my protector an-an-and how annoying I was…” You could hear him sighing on the other end and you began to think that he was going to agree with you but he didn’t.

“No… no, Baby, you got it all wrong. I-I shouldn’t have worded it like that.” He sighed once more. “I was talking about when I pranked you earlier this week. When I pretended that I was dead when you tried to wake me up. And then you began crying telling me how much you loved me.”

As he told you about it, you began to remember. Why were you so stupid? You began grabbing your things and walking to the shared apartment, all while listening to his explanation.

“Now there’s nothing I can say about the annoying part. But I did say that because—. Wait, you didn’t hear me tell him— never mind. What I’m saying is that I started the sentence like that because I was saying that it just made me realize all the more how much I loved you no matter how hard it got between us. Because I know these small fights we have between each other and how mad we can get and how petty the arguments are. I just love you so much and the way you cried over me broke my heart. You’re everything I could ever possibly ask for and I’m just so gra—”

He turned his head and saw you standing in the doorway of the bedroom looking an absolute mess. He hadn’t heard when you came in since he was so busy talking to you.

“When’d you get here..?” Chan stood up and made his way over to you to make sure you were alright as he checked around your body. He had tears in his eyes. You couldn’t help but stare at your boyfriend’s face in awe.

“I-I-I-I thought you didn’t love me and I got scared. S-so I left but now everything is making sense and I feel so stupid. I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have—”

Chan took you into his arms, muffling your words. “Don’t say that. You have every right to think that way especially from what you heard. But don’t worry. I love you more than words can express.” The two of you cried into the comfort of each others arms and you’ve never felt better.

After tears were dried and things were dealt, Chan looked at you curiously. It made you a bit flustered. “Wh-why are you staring at me like that. Want to take your words back now?”

“No! I’m just wondering… how’d you get here so fast?”

“I-I-I was at my friend’s apartment. It’s a floor above us.”

He took you into his arms once again, chuckling. “God, I want to marry you.” All you could do was blush. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LEE MINHO The next day, Minho ran up to you and swung an arm around your neck. You were quick to push it off. He frowned and made a little pouting face.

"What's wrong? Why did you leave without me last night?"

You quickly answered each of his questions. Not wanting to be in his presence much longer. "Nothing. Something came up." You rushed past him and to class. Finals were just around the corner and you didn't have time to be dealing with someone like him.

This was your last year of school. You didn’t want the unwanted drama. You’ve sailed through school as a well-natured person, favored by the teacher’s. You didn’t want to ruin your reputation now.

But it wasn’t as easy as you thought. Minho would continue to bug you in each and every class. No matter what you were doing he was there. Constantly pushing him away wasn’t working and ignoring him CLEARLY wasn’t working. So you resulted to the only thing you had left, confrontation.

Without second thought, you went straight to him after school and kicked him in the shin.

“Ow! Who the fuck!” He quickly turned around to face you as his demeanor slowly changed. “O-oh, y/n… It’s you.” He sounded kind of disappointed if you were being completely honest.

“What did you do that for, Sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes and stormed off. Leaving him to chase after you.

"Woah, woah, woah, hey..." He grabbed you by the wrist and spun you around. "What's the matter?"

He was the most disgusting human being on this planet and you didn't want anything to do with it. It made you extremely irrtated and you didn't want to be there. If anything, his act he was putting up was probably all a part of that sick and disgusting, "joke," as they called it.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow."

That was all you said before finally getting in your car and driving home. You hated that you were such a pushover. You hated that no one coud truly accept you for you. You hated that you were so stupid. You hated that you were so blind. You hated yourself.

You pondered over the entire weekend. Highschool's almost over. It didn't matter now. But to you, it did matter. You weren't going to just let people treat you like trash anymore. You knew just what to do.

On Monday, you came in as a fresh new person. Both physical wise and mental wise. You weren't gonna let people fuck with you anymore. You spent the whole weekend researching on makeup. You already knew lots about fashion. Your closet was already filled with fashionable items, you just weren't sure when to wear them.

With some accents to your school uniform, you looked perfect. Now the problem was the makeup. This wasn't your forte. You've never really used makeup so it was a struggle. But with enough practice, it was almost perfect. Even though it was a struggle, your makeup came out just fine.

When walking in, you could feel the eyes that followed you. It made you super uncomfortable. Maybe you did your makeup wrong and looked like a clown instead of what you intended. Your anxiety quickly built up and you ran for the bathroom. On the way there, you bumped into a wall. Well, a body rather.

The boy gently pushed your body off of his and you were quite dissapointed with the boy you were faced with. It was Minho.

"Woah... miss, are you okay? You should watch where you're going. You're too pretty to be hurt. Are you new here?"

All you could do was scoff. People were staring because you all of a sudden looked beautiful in other's eyes. Even Minho couldn't recognize you.

"It's me, Dipshit."

"Y-y/n?"

You rolled your eyes and kicked him in his balls before leaving the scene. That was the best feeling in your life. Two less problems to deal with. Minho and the judgement of society. Fuck the rest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ SEO CHANGBIN You kept crying throughout the night. It shouldn't hurt this much but you couldn't help the tears from falling. At about 9pm, Changbin knocked on the door.

"Y/n..? I know you're upset with me but please come eat dinner. Please?"

When you didn't reply, you could hear him sigh. It's not that you didn't want to talk to him and that you were ignoring him. It was just that you weren't sure if your mental state could handle that right now. You didn't want to just lash out at him.

There was some clinking and clanking in the kitchen before you heard the front door shut. It made you want to cry even harder. But you were sure that any other girl would do better for him. Than the one who currently had her back against the door as she cried.

You slowly got up and opened the door to see if he really left. It kind of broke your heart but what else could you really do in this situation? You made your way to the couch and sat down, holding your knees close to your chest. The tears were unstoppable and kept coming. It wasn't like you wanted them to, it's just you didn't know how to stop them.

As you were drowning in you sorrows, you heard the front door open. Immediately, your head shot up only to see Changbin standing there with a guilty look and a bouquet of flowers. He stood there frozen in his place.

"Baby, why are you still u-"

"Where were you?" You interceded.

Taking a quick glance between you and the door, he pointed towards it.

"I figured that you'd need space so I went out. Then I realized that you might think something bad about it. Like I'm leaving you or something. So I went to grab some gifts and come back home. So that I can beg you to take me back if you decided to break up with me. If you didn't take me back then I wo-"

At this point, Chanbin was just rambling on and on. You could see how sorry he was and it made you feel like you were a fool. So you ran to him and wrapped your arms around his frame. You cried into his chest not knowing what else you could do.

Changbin was a little to stunned to move or speak for a minute. But he slowly embraced you after setting the roses down.

"Baby... I thought you'd be mad at me." He cautiously stated.

Your lower lip quivered as you replied to him. "I-I am! But just a little bit. I'd rather have you by my side than lose you forever over something silly. Plus it happened in the past and you told me yourself. S-so I guess it makes it a better..."

And at that, Changbin holds you even tighter and lets out a sigh of relief. "I thought I would lose you forever over a mistake, in the past, I made. Thank you for forgiving me." He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. But you shook your head.

"No, thank you for loving me." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HWANG HYUNJIN After running for a while, you slowed down and began walking. You went to the Han River and took a seat on one of the benches. Checking your phone, to see the battery life was out and decided to take the time to relax. A lot had already been going on in your life. You had just found out that your mother was sick and you didn't want to tell Hyunjin because that would make him worry. You got reprimanded at work for getting an order wrong. Nearly fired because you "didn't know how to do your job right."

It was a stressful day and you just hoped that movie night would make it better. Except it didn't. It made it worse.

Having to find out from Jisung instead of Hyunjin himself really hurt. You knew that Hyunjin would tell you when he was ready. But, you couldn't shake off the feeling that he never liked you, let alone love you, to begin with.

You also knew that Hyunjin loved you and you were just overthinking. But were you? The river was peaceful as is and you didn't want to face reality right now so that's where you stayed.

It wasn't until nearly midnight, did you return home. Upon entering your apartment, you were met with a very distraught Hyunjin. He looked freaked out about something. But as soon as he saw you, he took you into his arms, tightly. He sobbed out onto your shoulder as he said, "thank you," over and over again.

"H-hyunnie..? What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Yes, you were upset. But seeing him like this did something to you.

"I thought- I thought that something happened to you. You weren't picking up your calls or replying to my messages so I told the boys and other friends we both knew to contact you too, figuring you didn't want to talk to me of all people. B-but then they all said they couldn't reach you either. So I came to your apartment and when you weren't here I got absolutely terrified. What if you didn't make it home? What if you got hurt. What if you got KIDNAPPED!? And that would all happen because I was too stupid to admit the truth. Because I made you angry. Because I made the one person I promised not to hurt, hurt so badly. A-a-a-a-an-and-"

He was terribly hyperventilating at this point so you grabbed his face and kissed him. He immediately softened into the kiss. His breathing got slower and his body began to slump.

You slowly pulled away and gazed into his eyes as you started consoling him.

"Hyunnie... my phone died and I stayed by the Han River. I did not get hurt or kidnapped as you can see. Since, I'm standing right in front of you right now. If anything did happen, I would never let you blame yourself because it wouldn't be your fault. Besides, I love you and I wouldn't want you to live with that."

His teary eyes looked into yours as his lips formed a soft pout. "You still love me?"

"Of course I do. Even if you made a bet on me."

It made him cry even more at the fact that you still had this much trust in him.

"I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @123rinu @pgnwook @mixtape-racha @hannieslovebot @lolareadsimagines @garrixer-06 @bandolls @chansbabygirlsstuff @camilagonzalex @mariteez @beccaskz @kibs-and-bits @kaitchan

@lynlyndoll @bangchansslut6 @hanniemylovelyquokka @changbinsjuicybiceps @xx-twalia-xx @bangchansprettygf @lvlnijiro @totallynotlyntv @htnw004 @shecheatedwithme @jiisungllvr @neteyamsmate4life @yoongles2025 @cosniffee @gdaymates @iilliess @tadashisdisaster sry if I missed u on the taglist

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allywthsr · 11 months

Text

RECKLESS | (l.norris)

summary: you couldn’t attend the Hungarian grandprix and you find out through articles that Lando cheated on you

wordcount: 3.3k words

pairing: landonorris x singer!femreader

warnings: cheating, being sad

notes: felt a little sad today and listened to Reckless by Madison Beer on repeat so needed to write something down! Comment your thoughts!!

request are open

Lando and you, everybody thought that you would make it to the end. Nothing could ever tear you apart, it was him and you against the world, the power couple that physically felt pain when you spent more than three days apart. The singer and the driver, everybody always made fun of Lando on how he managed to catch you, but you always told them that you couldn’t believe he was yours. In your eyes, you were the lucky one, having such a supportive boyfriend was like winning the lottery, if not even better.

Whenever you were spending hours in the studio, he understood the situation and even canceled the movie night you guys planned because you had a creative day. He sat on the couch in your studio listening to you singing while he wondered how you were able to sound that beautiful. When you were sad, he was there to cuddle, whenever you were on your period he would run to the shops and get you your tampons and pads, your favorite sweet you always craved, and put his hand on your lower stomach while hoping this would somehow help your cramps, and if they were unbearable he would get up and make you a hot water bottle. Even in the middle of the night when you would be tossing and turning he would get up, get you a painkiller, and a hot water bottle, and cuddle you until you felt better and ready to sleep, without you ever asking him to do that. Whether it was a race week or not.

But really, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. You first moved to Woking for him, moving everything you needed into your first shared home. You found a new studio and crew just so you could always be close to him. You were never angry when a meeting at the MTC or a training session took longer than expected and he came home late. You even moved to a whole different country for him. Monaco. You, again, found a new studio and crew that offered amazing support. You left all your friends you made in Woking to start over in your new home with Lando. You made cookies and told Jon they were sugar and everything free and full of proteins just so Lando could have one or two, sneaked little Kinder bars in the paddock that Lando could have after the race without anyone knowing. You knew him like the back of your hand.

Everyone joked about how you were practically married even without the ring, at least you were acting like a married couple. Always next to each other, holding hands, or one hand was always on your lower back, showing each other memes or fan edits wherever you were. He was in your family group chat and you were in the Norris‘ group chat as well, always sending little pics of the other to keep the family updated. You thought about kids' names, what kind of dog you wanted to get, and what your final home should look like.

Over the course of the last three weeks, he started to act weird. Coming home late, and not the ’I had training and Jon made me practically puke‘ late, it was the late where he would appear after 2:00 am. When you asked where he was, the only response you got was a: ”Sorry, the guys and I got stuck in a club“, knowing damn well that Max Fewtrell wasn’t even in Monaco and you couldn’t imagine his other friends staying up that late. He would kiss your forehead and cuddle you from behind, while you couldn’t smell any alcohol.

Every other day he would hang out with his friends, while their girlfriends shared how they were all doing something different with their significant other than Lando said they would do. Nor were there any fans posting a sighting of Lando, what would happen every time he went out in Monaco. When you asked him about that, he told you not to worry, he would be in his friends‘ flat that’s why there weren’t any sightings of him.

When the first picture with an unknown girl in his car appeared, he told you to not worry about her, she was the sister of one of his friends and he just picked her up because his friend couldn’t. You believed him because you‘ve been in a relationship for so long and you could never imagine a life without him. So when another picture of her and him appeared, you got another ’don’t worry about her, she‘s just a friend that wanted to hang out ‘. You didn’t worry but were sad that she got his attention and you didn’t. He was less affectionate than he normally was. But you didn’t worry. You told him that you didn’t feel comfortable with him always being with her, he listened and promised to change, but not even two hours later he got a call from who you believed was her and he ’needed to go, his friends needed him, it was an emergency‘.

But that all changed rapidly. Just because of one night the love story of Lando and Y/N was over.

Hungary.

Hungary now left a bitter taste on your tongue when you talked about the country.

You couldn’t join him for this race, because you had stuff to do for the album that came out a week ago, this was your most famous album yet, so everyone wanted you for an interview, getting your thoughts on the album and the stories behind them. Of course, it was an Album about Lando and the love you felt for him. What else were you supposed to write about, if he was your biggest inspiration?

So when you woke up the day after the race and you had hundreds of messages on your phone, from family and friends telling you to answer their texts and read the articles that came out during the morning, you were worried. Already having a bad feeling in your gut. Just yesterday you celebrated with Lando over FaceTime. Congratulating him over his P2 finish and making fun of him for smashing Max‘s trophy while doing his famous champagne celebration. You regretted not going yesterday, but now, you regretted it even more. Maybe then it wouldn’t have happened.

When you googled Lando Norris you found hundreds of articles. All of them with the same headline ’Lando Norris cheating on his girlfriend singer Y/N?‘. Your vision immediately clouded with tears, you didn’t even want to read the articles. Too scared of what they would say. So when you opened the first one you saw, you could see a blurry picture with bad lighting. Probably taken in a nightclub.

’Is Lando Norris kissing this unknown girl or is it just a bad angle? All we know is that his longterm girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N and singer couldn’t join him for the Hungary Grandprix because of a press tour she had for her newly released album that’s a love dedication for her boyfriend Lando Norris. Insights say that they‘ve split up not that long ago because of this mystery woman, who’s hugging Norris. Whether it is true or not, we currently have no exact information. But all we can say is that people that were partying with them said, that they looked very much in love and couldn’t stop touching each other, they made various trips to the bathroom and even went to his hotel together. But why would Y/N release an album about Lando if they were broken up? So far we have no statement from both of them, we‘ll keep you updated.‘

When you tried to call Lando, he didn’t pick up, nor did he read or answer any of your texts. You didn’t want to believe this article because you both swore to the other that you wouldn’t. The media would always take the smallest bit of gossip and turn it into a big thing and often enough assume things, that didn’t even happen. You couldn’t count the times Lando and you sat on your couch and laughed while reading all of the articles about your supposed breakup.

But this time, they had pictures and pictures can’t lie. You could clearly see Lando and the girl he ’had picked up for his friend‘. So maybe she wasn’t the sister but the reason he was always late and always missing important events like your album launch party. You could still see all the pitiful faces everyone made when you told them he couldn’t come because of an ’MTC emergency‘, you didn’t come up with a better excuse. He never even told you he wouldn’t make it, he just didn’t show. So you released the album that’s about him, without him, you‘ve never been more embarrassed.

So you went to get your notebook and started writing. Letting all the feelings out you felt in that moment.

Hey, this is a story I hate

You already hated how it ended, hated how your story now had an end.

And telling it might make me break

You weren’t sure how you could make it through this situation without breaking, Lando was your first real love, you'd never thought he would be a cheater.

But I'll tell it anyway

You needed to get everything out of your system or you might burst.

This chapter's about

How you said there was nobody else

You remembered all the times he told you there was nobody else after you saw the picture of her in his car. Filling your spot, the spot where you kept all your essentials you needed during a short ride, Lando being a huge fan of the hand creme and you knew he secretly used it.

Then you got up and went to her house

The missing and coming home late made sense now. He always went to her house, that’s why the boys always did different things than he told you. Now you understood why there were no pictures of Lando in his car or him walking around town because he was always with her.

You guys always left me out

Whenever you asked if you could join his group for a round of golf he told you it was a boys-only round, but when you saw the girls‘ Instagram story of a golf caddie you knew you'd been left out and now you wondered if he took her. Introducing her to his friends. Were the girls already friends with her and meeting for lunch?

I still have the letter you wrote

When you told me that I was the only girl

You'd ever want in your life

You remembered the times he gave you a handwritten letter. At the beginning of your relationship, you told him how sweet you found it in movies when the boyfriend gave his girlfriend a love letter. And every now and then he wrote you a love letter. You memorized the last line he always wrote in every letter. ’You‘re the only girl I’d ever want in my life next to my mum and sisters, darling, I love you so much‘ and you believed him, because why shouldn’t you?

I guess my friends were right

During the early stages of your relationship your friends always told you, that he would want a younger girlfriend at some point, because he was famous and had money, he could get every girl he wanted even when he was sixty-three years old. You laughed at them, telling them what Lando and you had was real and would last a lifetime, he wasn’t someone that would want someone new every other week, he was a keeper. Oh how wrong you were.

Each day goes by and each night, I cry

After the first few pictures, when things got too much you let a few tears slip your eyes. And with every night that he came home late, you laid awake, hiding your tears and trying to keep your sobs quiet.

Somebody saw you with her last night

The more time passed the more pictures appeared and slowly headlines started to form but you didn’t believe them. Every day there was a new sighting of them, but she was just a friend, you had nothing to worry about.

You gave me your word, "Don't worry 'bout her"

You tried to count how often he told you not to worry, but you lost count. Now you found yourself pathetic, believing his lies and not even worrying while you had every right to be skeptical but you weren’t.

You might love her now, but you loved me first

They say you always love your first love, but did he? Was it even possible to love someone new that fast after cheating on someone? You couldn’t imagine it. But apparently he did, he had to, if he cheated then he had to love her now because why else would you betray your partner if you would love them?

Said you'd never hurt me, but here we are

”I will never hurt you, angel, you are forever my favorite person. If I ever hurt you, you have my permission to kill me.“ you laughed after he said that. Thinking how silly he was, he could never hurt you. Why should he? You wanted to punch yourself for believing him.

Oh, you swore on every star

”Are you seeing all the stars baby?“, you were laying on your blanket you bought for stargazing nights, as Lando liked to call them, he found it romantic to lay under the stars. ”Yes of course I am Lando“, you giggled. ”That’s how much I love you, I swear on all of them that I will always love you, you are my person.“, after that you kissed him and didn’t let him go, you remember how sweet you found the words he always told you.

How could you be so reckless with my heart?

He played with your heart and trust, threw it on the ground, and ran over it with his f1 car. At least that’s how it felt. It felt like he didn’t even care what he was doing to you, doing what he wanted and not even thinking about you.

You check in and out

Of my heart like a hotel

Whenever he wanted to be affectionate, you would let him and whenever he needed his space, you gave him that. Being at his back and call whenever he needed you, not caring what you felt and needed. He chose when to be loved and when not.

And she must be perfect, oh well

You both always said how you found the ’you‘re perfect‘ saying, bullshit. Nobody is perfect, everybody has their flaw and makes mistakes. When he forgot to get your favorite brand of sweets when he went out for groceries, he apologized but you were okay with it because he wasn’t perfect. He always told you, you were close to being perfect and if there was someone better than you, she had to be perfect. But that was impossible because perfect didn’t exist.

I hope you both go to hell

Maybe you were overreacting, maybe there was a logical explanation on why he cheated, but you couldn’t imagine one. You wanted him to leave and go somewhere far away, so you would never have to see him again. You wished him to have a broken leg so he couldn’t race next weekend, you wanted him to suffer somewhere the way he deserved. And her too. She must’ve known he wasn’t single, she could‘ve stopped it or even prevented it if she would have wanted to.

I still have the letter you wrote

When you told me that I was the only girl

You'd ever want in your life

Often the letters were addressed to ’the only girl I ever want in my life‘, you even put his handwriting with this sentence on your album cover. Showing his love for you with it, while everybody was swooning over the sweet words he always found for you, now all they meant to you, were broken promises.

I guess my friends were right

Even after celebrating your fourth anniversary, your friends told you to be careful, you never knew what men were up to. You laughed, thinking how your man would never hurt you. You should’ve listened.

Each day goes by and each night, I cry

Somebody saw you with her last night

Every time someone sent you another picture of her, you cried your little heart out, too scared that she would do something that he would regret later, you trusted Lando, but not her.

You gave me your word, "Don't worry 'bout her"

You could only shake your head now. The typical ’don’t worry about her‘ and you actually believed him, you didn’t worry about her because he made you feel loved. With every ’don’t worry about her‘ you grew a little more suspicious but you trusted him, so you didn’t worry.

You might love her now, but you loved me first

”The first love is not supposed to last, but you will always be my first love and my favorite.“, he told you one morning in bed after a wild night. You smiled and cuddled to his naked chest, thinking how you were Lando Norris‘ first love, no one could take that from you. Being the first love was a good feeling.

Said you'd never hurt me, but here we are (here we are)

Even before you got together you told him that you were scared of getting hurt, you didn’t want to go through the process of getting over someone you loved. But he promised to never hurt you, because he loved you too much for it, guess not, huh?

Oh, you swore on every star

Every time you couldn’t be together for a race he would text you when it was nighttime at your place, that you‘d only have to count the stars to see his love for you. The stars would represent his love when he couldn’t show you personally.

How could you be so reckless with my heart?

Your poor heart now had a hard time, recovering from such a tragic event, not being thought about and just trashed like he didn’t even care.

How could you be so reckless?

Yes, how could he be so reckless?

How could you be so reckless with someone's heart?

You were sure that she also must feel bad, or at least start feeling bad when the fans would find her Instagram account and trash her. You were never a fan of hating someone online, but it was her own fault, being the other girl is a hard thing that you have to carry for the rest of your life, you basically destroyed a relationship.

Hey, this is a story I hate

You couldn’t believe how love could turn into hate so quickly. You had loved the love story you and Lando shared. Meeting at an event, exchanging numbers, and falling in love. But now you hated every minute of it. Wishing you would have never met him.

But I told it to cope with the pain

Music was your therapy. You needed it to survive, otherwise, you would burst with feelings, normally happy ones, now you needed it so you wouldn’t fully break down.

I'm so sorry if you can relate

———————————————————————————

Part two

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris angst #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #madison beer #formula 1

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bkgml · 1 year

Text

more exes to lovers bc i LOVE!! but this time angsty-er 😈 into fluff tho bc i just can’t resist!

“hey…” bakugou spoke into the phone, trying not to get choked up.

“bakugou..? what is it? whats wrong?” you said cautiously.

he sighed upset and a little thankful at the fact you could read him so clearly.

“i’m at the hospital, something went wrong when i was fighting the villains. i-“ he couldn’t take this; feeling so weak and helpless.

“they said i wasn’t allowed to drive home and i don’t want my shitty friends seeing me all fuckin weak.”

“i’m on my way. just relax okay? you’re strong katsuki we both know it” you say as you put on your shoes and grab your keys.

katsuki sighs a thankful sigh into the phone

“…will you stay on the shitty phone with me?”

you laugh, though you’re not mocking him, he knows you aren’t.

“i’ll stay on the phone, promise. ten minutes away, okay?

katsuki sighs again, feeling awful that you had to get out of bed in the middle of the night for someone you thought you were done with months ago.

“hey… just want you to know i don’t regret… us. only regret is the way we ended.”

you pause, worried you shouldn’t give into him.

“i know.” you say.

he sighs again. why are you making him sound so venerable dammit!

“do you..? you know, regret it- us?”

this is happening too fast, you can’t just forgive him this quickly. it’s been 4 months. you were moving on (you weren’t but you’re trying).

“i’m almost here.”

bakugou knows asked one too many questions too fast.

“okay…”

“i just pulled in where are you?”

bakugou gets into the car. he’s bruised and beaten. there’s a cast on his arm and he’s covered in soot. the cut on his lip you saw him with on the news last week has split open and he has a black eye.

“i’m here.”

you inhale shakily, reaching out and brushing some ash off his forehead.

“what happened to you?” bakugou has only heard your voice this small and timid once: the day he broke up with you.

“told you, stupid villains.”

you clear your throat. brushing away any feelings attempting to bubble up to the surface.

“fine. let’s get you home then.”

“fine.” you scoff and bakugou immediately regrets his tone. this is why you broke up with him, he thinks. this attitude he has. the silence is loud the rest of the ride home.

“this is it, right?” you say, still a little peeved at his tone from before.

“yeah.”

the two of you get out of the car.

bakugou knows he shouldn’t say what he’s about to say. this is why you left. his brain just wants him mouth to listen to him for once.

“well goodnig-“ “-do you want to come in?”

you stop stunned.

“bakugou-“

“listen i’m not doing what you think, i’m not trying to get sex out of this i swear.”

you pause, still processing.

“that’s not what i’m worried about.” you state.

bakugou waits confused.

“then what?”

“i’m worried that i’m going to go in there and you’ll have a shower and come out smelling all nice and you’ll put on those sweatpants i like with no shirt. then you’ll ask to hold me ‘just for tonight’. and you’ll kiss my hair and rub my back, and i’ll be head over heels for you all over again.” you breathe out.

“i don’t deserve this, katsuki. you’re just going to mess it up all over again and i cant go through this cycle a million times before we realize that we just don’t work right now. it’s not the right time for us. no matter how much we want it to be.”

you’re both tearing up at this point. he had no idea you could read him this well.

“i’m sorry, baby.”

“please don’t call me that.” you choke on your words. you knew you shouldn’t have come over here.

bakugou wipes his face, trying to compose himself, to not let the tears fall.

“i want to make this work. i don’t want to tiptoe around you and pretend i’m not the mean guy who hurt you. i want to be able to call you stupid fucking nicknames again without care and i want to make you laugh again.”

wow. he’s really not making this easy for you. you sigh before speaking.

“how about… you try again in a couple weeks. maybe i’ll let you call me a ‘stupid fucking nickname’ again.” you say in your best bakugou impression.

“a couple weeks, huh?”

“mhm. too long of a wait for you?” you tease, starting to fall back into your old ways.

“it’s never too long for you…. dumbass.” he tests the waters with a nickname he gave you before you started dating. one that makes his words seem a little less vulnerable from his perspective.

you laugh. a real fuckin laugh that he hasn’t gotten to hear in forever.

“alright… ‘dumbass’.” you say, still laughing.

“a couple weeks?” he asks.

“yes, a couple weeks.”

“okay…” he doesn’t want to leave your side but he won’t push you just yet.

“night.” he turns on his heel and gets his keys.

“g’night… ‘dumbass’.” you say, sending yourself into another fit of giggles and getting in your car.

as you drive off katsuki is grinning to himself.

the night turned out all right after all.

EEEEK you guys!! my first angsty post! and i made this little divider thingy with dynamy! i think it’s so cute personally i hope you like. :)

#bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou katuski x reader

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 10 months

Text

taedros tresdros

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

part one: taedros taedros ☆ part two: taedros twodros wc: 2.2k reader: afab reader (pretty sure no specific gender mentioned but putting this disclaimer just in case!) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- also some angst and some fluff :) summary: uh-oh... you fell for your best friend taerae. but was it all in vain after he's ghosted you the past two weeks? *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ITS DONEEE! you will notice i've went with "taedros tresdros" for the title. decided to keep all three parts with taedros as the first word lol. this is the finale for this little series and i really hope you like this ending i've made lol. i am so happy you've all enjoyed taedros taedros -- stay tuned for more works soon (hopefully) xx

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, fingering and oral (reader receiving), cumming in pants, eavesdropping/voyeurism by reader but it's only out of shock/anger, swearing, lots of innuendo in this one lmao... i think that's it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“so, the ring finger goes here?” you hear a feminine voice ask; ear pressed gently to taerae’s door to hear better. just a few moments ago, you’d been taking deep, steadying breaths as you walked through the entrance to your best friend’s dorm building on your way to finally confront him.

something that was so familiar now made your heart race with anxiety.

but when you’d rounded the corner to taerae’s room, you were surprised to find the door shut almost all the way. usually taerae left his door wide open, even when he was playing the guitar or getting changed or sleeping. in fact, his dorm-mates told you one night when you were leaving that the only time taerae made an effort to close it was when you were over... you couldn’t hear any noise coming from his room, which made you all the more curious as to what was going on in there.

walking up to his door, you’d seen it was propped open just a bit by one of taerae’s shoes. you couldn’t see through the gap in the door, but you’d heard quiet murmurings from inside and gently placed your ear to the door to listen closer. the sound of a girl’s voice had completely shocked you. especially considering what you’d come here to talk about with taerae.

“yeah, it might take a bit to find the sweet spot,” taerae answers with a chuckle; his answer causing your jaw to drop. fingers? sweet spots? what the fuck is going on in there!?

“mmm, thank you again for teaching me, taerae,” the voice responds. upon closer listening, you realize you know this voice. it belongs to your world history classmate, jinah-- the girl who sits behind you and doodles the entire period. she’s very nice-- pretty and athletic, too, but...

you didn’t really think taerae was her type.

you hadn’t spoken to taerae much in the last couple weeks. ever since you’d actually slept together... things had changed. it felt like your best friend was avoiding you. when you’d texted to ask about movie night the past two fridays, taerae had said he was busy with homework both times. normally taerae would meet you for lunch in the student union every other day in between his music theory class, but he hadn’t come by since then. he’d barely said two words to you at choir practice last night.

was this why? he’d decided he liked jinah instead? he couldn’t face you after... using you?

taerae would never do that. not to you. probably not to anyone.

then again, you’d never talked about whether what was going on between you was exclusive or not. and what it meant to you; what he meant to you. had you completely misinterpreted this whole situation?

“and the middle finger...” jinah trails off and the mental picture you have unfortunately painted in your head of the scene taking place is enough to make you gag.

“that one’s gonna reach as far up as possible,” taerae explains. if you had known your best friend was offering masturbation classes out of his dorm room, you probably would’ve been more careful about where you were sitting on his bed.

“i don’t think i can reach that far,” jinah huffs with a frustrated sigh. “it kind of hurts.”

“relax,” taerae soothes. “it’ll feel better if you relax.”

your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sound of the audible gasp that escapes you, but your elbow hitting the door blows your cover. you stand up quickly as taerae’s door swings open-- revealing you in the doorway to taerae and jinah.

... and revealing jinah sitting on taerae’s bed and holding a guitar (quite clumsily, if you may be so brazen) in her hands; taerae sitting next to her and seemingly offering some sort of instruction.

“you--...” you stutter, surprised and also incredibly relieved to find that the lessons taerae was giving were much more wholesome than you’d been forced to imagine for the past few minutes. “oh thank fuck holy shit.”

as the uncontrollable string of grateful curse words leaves your mouth, jinah clears her throat awkwardly and stands up; removing the guitar strap from around her neck and handing the instrument to its owner.

“sorry for interrupting,” you mumble, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth as taerae glares at you.

“no, it’s okay! i have to finish an essay for tomorrow anyway,” jinah replies, picking up her bag and walking towards the door. you step to the side for her to get by, awkwardly smiling as she calls behind her, “thank you, taerae! see you next week!”

jinah retreats down the hallway, leaving just you and taerae alone in a tense silence.

“what are you doing here?” taerae asks, rather unceremoniously. “it’s a thursday night. you have tutoring on thursday nights. that's why we have movie night on fridays.”

you nod, still leaning against the doorframe. “my last appointment cancelled so i--... i wanted to come talk to you.”

“oh,” taerae replies with a nod. “okay.”

you frown. “okay?”

“yeah,” he says, looking down at his guitar in his hands; starting to strum it lightly. “okay.”

your eyebrows raise in shock as your best friend seemingly shrugs you off. you walk over to him and snatch the guitar from his hands by its neck.

“HEY!” he protests as you bring the instrument over to its stand and place it there annoyedly (but carefully; you’re not an asshole). “i was playing that.”

“what the fuck is the matter with you!?” you snap, turning back around to face him. “you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks!”

taerae visibly gulps; eyes falling to the floor.

“and this is how you’re gonna act?” you scold, folding your arms across your chest. “after we...”

for some reason you’re unable to say it. taerae is silent-- seemingly holding his breath as he waits for you to continue. coward.

“i came here to talk to you about everything and--... and then i heard you through the door giving jinah a fucking guitar lesson,” you explain while rolling your eyes. “better than the lesson i thought you were giving her, but...”

taerae looks up at you now; brow furrowed as his head tilts to the side confusedly. “w--... what kind of a lesson did you think i was giving her?”

you blink back at him; unsure of whether to tell the truth or not. but taerae catches on before you can commit to a lie.

his jaw drops in shock. “you thought--... did you think--”

you look down at your feet: embarrassed, anxious, and just plain sad after the events of the last couple weeks. this mixture of emotions forms a lump in your throat that you are now hopelessly trying to suppress. “i’m really sorry for interrupting. and for listening a bit. i just don't know what happened. i thought we were--... i thought you felt the same way that i did, but... you just must be really upset with me and i don’t know what i did but i’m so sorry and i really miss you so i wanted to talk to you and i just was... i dunno, i thought--”

taerae cuts off your rambling by standing up and wrapping his arms around you tightly. against your neck, he soothes, “ssh, baby. it’s okay-- it’s all okay. i promise.”

“i like you,” you confess into taerae’s sweatshirt. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know this would happen. but i really like you, tae.”

"fuck-- i like you, too. of course i like you, too,” he says, pulling back to look at you. “and this is all my fault.”

you sniffle as you ask, “what did you do this time?”

“something really, really stupid,” he replies with a sad smile.

mirroring his expression, you quip, “what else is new?”

“yeah, yeah,” he accepts with a laugh. cupping your cheek in his hand, he runs his thumb across the skin sweetly. “i thought i was the one who fucked up... by falling for you.”

“... oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“oh is right,” he says, leaning in and kissing your lips gently. “i honestly wasn’t sure what to do about it. i didn’t want to hurt you and i thought maybe just... avoiding you for a bit would make it easier for me to stop having feelings for you. but it didn’t. it just hurt you and me more-- and it was really immature. i’m so sorry.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, having forgiven your idiot of a best friend before he even apologized. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you more,” taerae says, peppering your cheeks with kisses. you giggle; taerae grinning before attaching his lips to yours again.

“but, um,” you say quickly, pulling back to meet his gaze. “i’d love to put in a request for no more guitar lessons with the door closed, if the suggestion box is still open.”

“it is,” taerae says with a laugh. “suggestion accepted, approved and implemented.”

“and, uh, maybe they don’t have to take place on your bed,” you say, biting your bottom lip and hiding your face in his chest.

“i will have you know my conduct is strictly professional at all times,” taerae replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “but you’re completely right. not to mention, it was probably rude of me to let her sit on my bed... without telling her what it’s covered in.”

“TAERAE-YA!” you shout, hitting his chest as he pulls you toward his bed-- pushing you down gently onto the mattress and climbing between your legs with ease. “you do wash your sheets, don’t you?”

he just laughs.

“tae, that’s gross,” you reply, shaking your head as he cups your center over your jeans. your protesting starts to waiver as he applies more pressure to where you need him most. “you--... you really should--”

“enough, enough, baby-- of course i wash them,” he replies, hooking his fingers around the belt loops of your jeans and shimmying them along with your underwear down your legs before discarding them on the floor. then he smirks at you, adding, “but sometimes i do wonder what the point is when you’re just gonna get them dirty again.”

“fuck,” you whine as taerae admires you. he’s licking his lips like he hasn’t eaten in days-- and he hasn’t. you wonder how he’s survived this long without you.

“so,” he says, starting to circle your clit with two fingers. his rhythm isn’t steady though; it’s intoxicatingly teasing. “what did you think i was teaching in these ‘lessons’?”

you feel your face heat up again at the mention of your faux pas. “don’t make fun of me.”

“never, baby,” he says; a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “i’m just curious what you think i’m enough of an expert in to be qualified to teach.”

“i--... oh my god,” you say, shaking your head with embarrassment. “i thought you were teaching her how to finger herself!"

“hmm, i guess i can understand the confusion,” taerae runs his fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and painting it across your stomach. “since playing guitar requires so much skill with your fingers.”

“shut up,” you reply, pouting at him.

“no, really,” he insists with a nod. as he pushes his middle finger into you gently, you gasp at the sensation. “like, to play a chord; each of your fingers needs to hold down the correct string and in the correct spot. like, to play a d chord for example.”

taerae strokes up into your walls with his middle finger, causing you to whimper. “see this middle finger needs to be on that ‘high e’ string. and then the ring finger...”

plunging another finger into you, your hand reaches to grab onto taerae to steady yourself. he smiles at you, pressing both fingers firmly against your walls now. “will sit nicely on that ‘b’ string right here.”

as he works his fingers against your walls lazily, you whine-- desperate for more friction and soon. your prayers are answered when taerae inserts a third finger, stretching you carefully until he’s able to push it all the way in.

“and finally, the index finger is going to go...” he laughs lightly before pushing his index finger into the spongy, firm spot in your walls that only he has ever been able to find. as you cry out in pleasure, taerae presses kisses to your thighs. “you might’ve guessed, but that one’s on the ‘g’ string. and listen to that beautiful sound it's making.”

“did you--... did you plan that g-spot joke?” you ask breathlessly in between pleading moans as taerae picks up the pace of his fingers. “you’re the--*hic!*... worst person i know.”

the little hiccup from pleasure that separates your insult sends taerae reeling. “fucking perfect, huh? every inch of you.”

“baby, please,” you beg, self-control low after two weeks without taerae. “wanna cum. please, wanna cum for you.”

taerae moans and, from the way he’s looking at you, you know he’s just as desperate as you are. he falls to his stomach now between your legs as he says, “was gonna try to... keep my mouth off of you. show you i really like you. you-- not just your pussy but...”

“fuck it,” you both say at the same time.

lips attaching to your clit, taerae wastes no time in pushing you closer to the edge as he laps, sucks, eats at you-- one leg of yours hooked over his back as he continues to work you with his left hand.

“tae,” you whimper, hands in his hair as you grind your hips into his touch. “g’nna cum... please, gonna cum.”

taerae whines and, with the state you’re in, you don’t even notice how feverishly he’s grinding into the bed. he switches to sucking, lips tugging perfectly on your clit and it’s all over for you.

“fuck, i--... i--... m’cumming,” you moan, taerae’s name falling from your lips a few dozen times as you come down from your high. “oh my god.”

taerae is noticeably quiet; removing his fingers from inside of you, he laps at the juices that drip out of you with his eyes closed. you know he really likes you... but it’s very possible he likes your pussy just as much. you’re not complaining.

“tae,” you call sweetly, sitting up on your elbows. “baby? come here-- want you to fuck me.”

he opens his eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up a bit. “um... so, about that.”

his gaze trails down to the crotch of his jeans and you follow it to find a nice, big wet spot soaking through the denim.

“are you serious!?” you whine in frustration; sighing as taerae smiles at you sheepishly.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes with a cute little pout. “will you forgive me if i say it’s because you’re just too hot?”

you roll your eyes-- grinning at him. “i’ll consider it.”

“thank god, because i think i can probably make it up to you...” he says, sitting up and grabbing your jeans from the floor. “after some dinner.”

you laugh. “are you asking me out?”

“i totally am,” he answers with a smile.

“you’re sure you’re not too... full?” you joke, grabbing his hand in yours. “you did just eat.”

taerae shakes his head, smirking at you:

“trust me-- i’m never full when i’m with you.”

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throneofsmut · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day Twenty-Nine : Corruption Cassian x Female Reader

You were only 17 years old when you first went ‘Under the Mountain’. As the only daughter of Beron Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court and his youngest child, he believed you were weak.

Eris, your eldest brother was more of a father than Beron ever was. Everyone knew the High Lord of Autumn was a cruel sadistic bastard, especially your mother, siblings and you.

But a week before, Amarantha tricked all seven courts, you lost it. Eris had spies and he knew something bad was coming. He was trying to get you to the Spring Court where you’d be safe with Lucien. They were the only ones out of all your brothers that were kind to you.

The night before you were set to leave, your father found out and was going to punish Eris. Beron had barely lifted the whip in the air, Eris with his back out tied to the whipping post, as you burnt his guards to ash. And the whip in his hand while having a shield of fire around your brother.

You met Beron’s wrathful gaze, untying Eris from the post. Growling, “If you touch my brother, I will rip you apart.” Letting your immense power that you kept hidden roil off you in waves, daring him to try you.

He didn’t.

He didn’t speak to you again after that, let alone look at you. So when Amarantha was going to punish you for defending your mother, he did nothing. Yet the High Lord of the Night Court did.

Rhysand saved you and made a bargain with you, Eris was pissed but was relieved that you were safe now. Or as safe as one could be Under the Mountain. At first you and Rhys were suspicious of one another but throughout the years the both of you had gotten close, like siblings. It was nice.

At times it felt like all you had was each other.

After the events Under the Mountain, you went with Rhys to the Night Court. He trusted you with his life and with the City of Starlight. Velaris. You missed the Autumn Court sometimes but Velaris was your real home.

The inner circle was suspicious of you at first but once they saw how Rhys was with you they embraced you as part of their family. Which was why you were sitting in a booth at Rita’s with them, playing two truths and a lie.

It was your turn.

Looking down at your drink, rubbing your finger around the rim of the glass, you hummed, “Beron isn’t my father, I want to move back to the autumn court and I’ve never done anything with anyone. Sexually.” The last word brought a flush to your cheeks but you could blame it on the alcohol in your system.

You pointed at the inner circle for their answers starting with Azriel, “Easy. You’ve never done anything with anyone, sexually.” He answered, repeating what you said.

Then Cassian, “What he said.” But there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t place.

Next was Mor, “What Az said.”

Rhys agreed with them, “The last one.”

Finally Amren, bore her silver eyes into yours before saying, “The last one, girl.”

Looking all of them in the eye, before giving them a shit eating grin, “Wrong !” You howled in laughter.

All of them looked at you before simultaneously yelling, “Bullshit !” You shook your head, not being able to speak through the laughter.

Once you had stopped you looked at all of them, they all looked shocked, “Beron isn’t your father ?” Rhys whispered, looking around to see if anyone was listening.

“Nope,” you said popping the ‘p’ as you lifted your cup to your mouth before he pushed it back down.

“Who is ?” Azriel questioned.

You made them all promise not to tell anyone, once they agreed you felt the light stinging sensation - a bargain tattoo forming - on your right pinky finger. They all felt it too. All eyes were still on you as you uttered one name, “Helion.”

Az whispered yelled his shock, cassian only said three words - “What the fuck” - Rhys, Mor and Amren were just staring at you with wide eyes and jaws dropped. You couldn’t do anything else but laugh.

Later in the night after playing a couple more rounds of two truths and a lie, you all decided it was time to head back to the House of Wind where Azriel, Rhys, Mor, Cassian and you were staying. Amren was going back to stay at her apartment.

Last minute Mor decided to go to another place for drinks, trying to convince everyone to go with her but you were tired. “Y/n ! Please, please come !” She was practically begging you and you just giggled shaking your head. “Mor, i’m tired. I’ll go next time.”

“Are you sure ?” She stuck her bottom lip out faking a pout.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

She looked at you before relenting, “Fine, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Do you want me to fly you back ?” Rhys offered.

But before you could answer him Cassian’s voice cut you off, “I’ll take you, I-i’m tired too.” He stammered eyes on you.

Nodding your head, “Okay, Cass will take me,” - placing your hand on Rhys’s shoulder - “have fun.”

You and Cassian waved at them as they walked away before he lifted you in his arms and took off towards the House of Wind.

The flight was silent until he cleared his throat, getting your attention, “Yes, Cass ?”

His eyes were on yours but you didn’t miss the way his throat bobbed, “So you’ve really never done anything anyone ?” Moving the arm that was wrapped around his neck, so your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, lips curving up in a teasing smirk, “Why… You tryna fuck me or something ?”

The grip he had on your back and thighs tightened, fingers digging into the soft skin covered by your dress. “Don’t play with me right now,” his voice came out rougher than he wanted, the sound of it giving you goosebumps all over, "have you ?"

“No.” Your words were barely audible but he heard.

He opened his mouth but shut it - he had one shot not to ruin this - swallowing thickly. “Do you want… to ?”

Turning your head to glare at him, “Are you just saying this to get back at Eris ? Because I’m not some-“ He winced, cutting you off.

“No. No, gods no. I just want you to be comfortable for your first time.” He couldn’t just blurt out and tell you that as soon as he’d laid eyes on the most beautiful female he’d ever seen the mating bond snapped into place. But also he couldn’t stand the thought of you being with someone else. You looked at him trying to find any hint of a lie but found none. He was being sincere, vulnerable even.

“All I’m saying is if you want some help changing that… I could.” He met your gaze, trying to now show any signs of being nervous.

“Are you offering to help as a friend, Cass ?” Your voice coming out as a tease to ease the tension.

“I am.”

“Alright. I’m all yours tonight.”

His lust filled gaze roamed all over your face before settling on your lips, then back on your eyes. Lips parting slightly, pupils dilating as you took him in. He wore a cocky smirk on his lips, nostrils flaring as he scented your arousal. You were already blushing but now you were sure you were red as he scented the effect he had on you. Holding you tighter to his body, he beat his wings faster towards the house that was now coming into view. You couldn’t do anything else but roll your eyes and giggle at his antics.

As soon as you landed on one of the balconies, Cassian readjusted his hold on you, carrying you into the House of Wind bridal style. Throwing your head back in a laugh, “What are you doing, Cass ?” you asked in between laughs.

Looking down at you, giving you a sinful smirk, he answered, “Treating you the way you should be treated, Princess.”

“Oh gods, what did I get myself into ?” You mumbled against his chest.

You felt his reverberating chuckle, “You have no idea.” Without having to look up, you knew his eyes were on you.

Hearing a door open you lifted your head, assuming you’re in his room but you’re in yours. Brows furrowed as you looked at him, “Why my room ?”

His face is serious except for the sweet smile on his lips, “I want you to be comfortable.”

You simply nod your head at his words.

Before sitting on your bed, Cassian moved you as if you weighed nothing, to straddle his lap. Running his large calloused hands up and down your thighs, “Relax, princess. I’m not in any rush. We’ll go at your pace.” His words put you at ease along with his soothing touch.

You let out a soft sigh wiggling a bit, settling comfortably on his lap. Looking down at your hands that were between the two of you, avoiding his gaze. You don’t know how much time passed when suddenly he was talking, “What have you done ?”

Letting out a shuddering breath before you spoke, “Don’t laugh.” Rising on your knees to move but he only gripped your waist, stopping you. “Nothing.”

“Not even a kiss ?” He asked incredulously.

You huffed, hesitating whether you should tell him or not. “Yes and no.”

He tilted his head at you trying to look you in the eyes. “What does that mean ?”

Biting your bottom lip, finally meeting his gaze, “Under the Mountain, a male from Summer kissed me but I didn’t kiss him back because I didn’t want him. ”

He let out a growl, eyes darkening with the promise of violence.

Cassian felt your soft hands cupping his face, faintly hearing you call his name, but all he could imagine is some bastard trying to kiss what was his… his mate. “Cass, it's okay. It’s in the past.” Your voice made him refocus on what was in front of him.

You.

Then his throat bobbed, “Has anyone ever touched you ?”

“No.” You breathed, he silently thanked the mother.

“Have you ever touched yourself ?”

You nodded your head almost imperceptibly. “I need words, princess.”

You felt your cheeks heat, “Yes.” You whispered.

Cassian grunted at your confession, his hands moving over the curve of your ass, squeezing slightly, making you whimper. You felt him harden beneath you, instinctively grinding against him, “Fuck” he hissed lowly.

“Have you ever had an orgasm ?”

“No.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He groaned, pressing his forehead against yours.

Then he was moving his hands to cradle your face. His thumb rubbing over your bottom lip, his eyes on your plush lips, “Can I kiss you ?” He rasped out.

“Please.” You whispered breathlessly.

In an instant his lips were on yours, claiming them as his. Your lips were soft and plush moving in tandem with his. They parted in a moan and he took that as his chance to deepen the kiss. He groaned into your mouth as your clothed cunt brushed over his hard cock. Right then and there, he decided he was going to ruin you and love every second of it.

Pulling back, eyes half lidded with lust, you tugged at his shirt, “Take this off. I want to feel you.” Cassian did so immediately. Your eyes roved over his form hungrily, bottom lip between your teeth, looking at him for approval.

“How do you know how to kiss ?” He asked breathlessly.

“I read books.” You answered without hesitation. Nodding his head, you ran your hands over his tanned tattooed chest, down his torso, over the little scars that littered it before kissing him again.

Without breaking the kiss he stood up. Sliding your dress off your body, then your bra, and finally your panties, laying you down on the bed. Setting himself between your thighs. Pulling away his breath hitched as he took in your naked form. You moved your arm to cover up but he held them at your sides.

“Beautiful. You are so beautiful.” His voice rougher than you’ve ever heard it. Body shivering at his words.

Then he was looking at your soaked cunt, a feral smirk on his lips, “Touch yourself.” He commanded. Making your pupils dilate as you move your hands over your breasts, groping them, tugging at your peaked nipples. Trailing down your tummy and teasingly running two fingers between your wet folds before drawing light circles over your swollen clit.

Your eyes closed as you applied more pressure to your clit, lewd moans and whimpers escaping your lips. His eyes flickered between your face - taking in your expressions - and the way you touched yourself.

You opened your eyes, reaching for one of his large hands, putting two of his fingers in your mouth. Swirling your tongue around them. Pulling them out with a soft pop, he raised an eyebrow, “Books ?” Lowering his hand to your cunt, you nodded once, “Books.”

“Please, touch me, Cassian.” His name on your lips was a sound he’d never get tired of. But his restraint was thinning, he was trying to go at your pace yet it was taking everything in him not to take you the way he wanted. He ran his fingers between your folds before licking a single broad stroke, tongue flat, through them. Making you suck in a harsh breath as your back arched. Then sucking gently at your clit, you let out a shaking breath as he began to flick it. Feeling fire pooling in your tummy and then it began to spread throughout your whole body.

Your body going taut as it begged for release - that’s what this was - it felt like it was too much and yet not enough at the same time. You felt like you were on fire then you felt the coil inside of you beginning to snap.

“F-f-fuck Cass.” You stuttered. Legs starting to shake as his tongue sucked you clit again, harshly. “Please don’t - don’t stop !” You cried out, one hand fisted in his hair the other fisting the sheets. He hummed in response and at the same time you felt a long thick finger enter you. Hips bucking as Cassian curled his finger inside you.

Your walls clenching around his finger as you came undone. Cassian’s name a chant on your lips as you shatter under his touch. His finger and mouth, not stopping their assault on your sensitive cunt until you were a shaking, panting, mess.

Eyes meeting his, as you were trying to catch your breath, he couldn’t stop himself - sucking the taste of you off his fingers - he would never get enough of you.

At the sight of him, a golden thread lit up in your chest - in your soul - the mating bond sang out for the male before you. He looked at you, a playful smirk on his lips, “Can you go another round or are you too tired, princess ?”

“I want you to show me everything, mate.”

Something flickered in his eyes at your words, “I’m going to ruin you. You’re mine.”

The possessiveness in his words, making you shiver, goosebumps covering your body as you gave him a wicked smirk, “Please.”

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #cassian general #cassian lord of bloodshed #cassian fanfic #cassian smut #cassian x reader #lord of bloodshed fanfic #lord of bloodshed smut #lord of bloodshed x reader #cassian acotar

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wileys-russo · 5 months

Note

for a potential Ellie Carpenter blurb : maybe some domestic fluff where Ellie is exhausted from all that running around after a match-packed week and reader, her girlfriend, takes care of her.

(Any other details would be up to you)

roadrunner II e.carpenter

you crossed your arms tighter as the airport doors opened and a crisp breeze blew through, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you waited patiently.

bundled up in your girlfriends favorite hoodie she'd so kindly forgotten to pack, you definitely didn't hide it, you were engrossed in the smell of her perfume but it just wasn't the same as the real thing and these last two weeks you'd missed her terribly.

coming off the back of five back to back wins in the span of two weeks with lyon ellie had been called up to her national camp for pre world cup friendlies against new zealand.

she'd flown out from france on tuesday night, arrived in australia friday mornning and played the first game sunday afternoon. from the facetimes or phone calls she somehow managed to squeeze in among her action packed schedule you could see the jetlag was affecting her.

you'd never completely understand what she went through to play for club and country of course, whenever you were called back to england for national duty of your own it was a couple of hours on a plane and that was hardly comparable in the slightest.

however you'd warned her time and time again about burn out and listening to what her body was trying to tell her with the insane travel schedule she stuck to throughout the season going continent to continent.

but each time you tried the blonde would only wave you off making a sarcastic joke and often sending your head spinning with a feverish kiss in an attempt to change the subject, though by now you knew her games all too well.

you perked up as a crowd of tired looking passengers burst through the arrival gates standing on the tips of your toe to try and spot your girlfriend, a frown settling into your features as seemingly everyone headed their separate ways and there was no sign of ellie.

"not looking for someone are we?"

you spun around at the thick australian accent, a grin curling into your lips as the blonde stood behind you with a smile of her own. "how the hell did you get behind me? i was looking so carefully!" you laughed as the two of you pulled one another into a bone crushing hug.

"not carefully enough babe, i'm too good at being sneaky im like a ninja!" ellie pinched your sides teasingly as you pulled away with a roll of your eyes, pecking her lips a few times and grabbing her bags, ignoring her calls that she had them.

"shut up and tell me you missed me." you teased, the taller girl sighing dramatically and pausing as if to ponder her next words.

"need i remind darling that i am your ride home and i have the house keys?" you warned jingling them as the two of you made your way out of the airport and toward the car. "missed you so so so much." ellie wrapped her arms around your neck from behind and kissed your cheek repeatedly.

"much better." you complimented with a wink, smacking her hand away as she tried to grab one of the bags off you. "aren't you going to tell me you missed me?" ellie countered with a playful frown as the two of you neared the car.

"mmm but we promised not to lie to one another." you teased, clicking unlock on the car and squealing as ellie attempted to pick you up and spin you around, her bags falling to the floor as she stumbled and nearly dropped you down with them.

"okay! lets not forget you've just flown for two days." you laughed as you shoved her toward the passenger side and quickly loaded her bags into the back. "thats normally my job." the defender pouted as you opened the drivers door and slid inside.

"snooze you lose and you need a good snooze." you smiled softly, leaning over the middle console to kiss her properly and mumbling how much you missed her against her lips, gently grabbing her hands in yours as she tried to grip the back of your need to deepen the kiss.

"i meant it el, home and sleep." you cautioned firmly though not unkindly, the time nearing 8pm anyway. "food, home and sleep?" the australian asked hopefully as you nodded with an amused smile.

"how could i possibly forget that the way to your heart is through your stomach?"

only when you got home after grabbing takeout on the way back, ellie did not want to sleep. "el!" you groaned, dragging your hands down your face as the two of you finished dinner and she insisted on washing up, and then unpacking, and then doing her laundry.

"what? if i do it now then i save myself doing it tomorrow, or you doing it for me!" the blonde replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, the bags under her eyes growing darker and darker with each passing minute.

"ellie, my love." you moved your body to block the exit of your shared bedroom, your face softening as ellie sighed and placed down the basket of washing.

"you're racing around like a roadrunner and you've been on the go for weeks now. we have two days off before we're back to training and you need to rest." you reminded, hands falling to gently clasp her face.

"its nine at night and you've been flying since monday morning, you might feel awake but you look like shit and i can see in your eyes that you are fighting exhaustion. please let me look after you so you're looking after yourself baby." you requested, thumbs tracing the sharp curve of her jaw, bracing as suddenly the tall defender collapsed into you.

"do i really look like shit?" she mumbled into your shoulder making you chuckle, body sagging and melting into yours as you held her tightly and smiled.

"you always look beautiful but today lets just say you look a bit beautifully disheveled." you tangled a hand in her hair and moved to scratch at her scalp as she heavily exhaled and you shifted a little as more of her weight bore into you.

"okay. how about this-" you gently pushed her backward until she was sat on the edge of the bed, her arms moving to wrap around your waist as her head fell to your stomach with a hum.

"-you go and pick a movie, get comfortable. i'll pop your washing on and we can lay down together and watch something until you fall asleep, deal?" you bargained as ellie exhaled heavily but nodded in agreement.

"good." you tilted her head back with your finger and placed a tender kiss to her lips. breaking away you hurried to grab her basket of washing, darting off to the laudry as your girlfriends footsteps made their way toward the living room and you heard the gentle thud of her body slumping into the sofa.

returning a few minutes later you smiled to see her wrapped up in a blanket, blonde hair hidden beneath your favourite hoodie she'd taken with her. "swap." the australian called out as you arrived beside her, sitting up and starting to take it off.

"what?" you laughed as she rolled her eyes and huffed, tugging impatiently at the hem of your own hoodie and repeating herself. "alright alright, needy." you teased, tugging off the hoodie and trading with her, both of you pulling the material over your heads.

"this one smells much more like you." ellie mumbled happily, going to lay down again as you stopped her, slipping in behind her into her normal position of the big spoon. "do you want a drink or anything?" you whispered into her hair as she clicked play on the movie.

"no, just a tall glass of you." the australian replied charmingly with a smile, eyes drooping a little as she fought back a yawn. "always the charmer aren't you carpenter." you teased as she settled herself into you, flipping around onto her stomach as her head rested on your chest and her hands dug into the small of your back.

"oh els no come on!" you whined seeing which movie she'd selected, one of her favorites she'd watched to death and back, and one that you despised and she well knew.

"you'll fall asleep like ten minutes in and i'll be stuck." you complained, her hand moving over your mouth the only response you needed. unable to argue with the adorably tired smile sent your way you melted, pressing a kiss to her nose and grinning as she scrunched it up.

"go to sleep angel." you whispered watching as a few minutes in she was fighting to keep her eyes open, one hand sneaking up the back of her hoodie and the other messing with her hair, your nails raking up and down the toned and tanned skin of her back.

"mm that feels nice baby." the australian mumbled, eyes fluttering closed finally as her body relaxed and her breathing evened out. within a couple of minutes you bit your lip to stop from laughing as she let out a small snore, a tell tale sign that she was exhausted and out cold.

but you'd be sure to tease her for it once she was a little better rested tomorrow.

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #ellie carpenter x reader #ellie carpenter #woso fanfics #woso blurbs

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